Sharing the Wealth

   Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, (also known as a rescued cat or somebody's throwaway pet) came to the Bayou by way of my son-in-law.  Robbie found the poor, pathetic kitten after someone abandoned it at his place of business.  He promptly brought the forlorn critter here with the promise of it being a temporary thing.  That was almost four years ago and the cat is still here.  This is home.  Here, the cat is welcome, cared for and much loved.  He returns the love and....returns the favor of being fed by often bringing his "catches" as gifts.  More oft than naught, his prey is simply released unharmed with the promise of a treat.  Occasionally, however, Bat makes short work of a critter.  Rats and squirrels stand no chance!  Then...then there are the times that he brings us something quite out of the ordinary.

  Mark and Son were busy digging a new drainage ditch down the back side of the hill while I cut some of the leaves that are a foot deep after our intense freeze last month.  Yardwork is never complete around here.  At one point, Son and I both saw Mr. Bat race up from near the pier.  Oh, goodness.  What was that goofy cat dragging this time.  Neither of us stopped work to investigate leaving the cat to his own business. Mark soon discovered just what Bat was dragging.  The cat presented Mark with a fine mullet!  Yep, Bat had caught a fish!  How?  How?  The wet, muddied cat was not telling his secrets!  He did receive a treat for trying to feed us...and, in a way, he will, at some point.  The 10 inch long mullet was not to be wasted.  The fresh fish was plopped into the shed freezer to be used as crab bait once the weather warms a bit more.  The crabs will be enjoyed by us!  Good cat!!  

  Once this story made its rounds with our friends, several put in requests for Mr. Bat to catch some fish for them!  Not many folks can claim they have "fishing" cats!  Oh, Mr. Bat, you are something else!

Hurricanes, Shrimp, Gars and Childhood Memories

   Since Son has completed the repairs on the pier, fishing, shrimping and crabbing have resumed.  It is almost unheard of to have so much activity going on in the Bay and Bayou...at least, in recent years.  The last time that I recall catching this many shrimp from a pier was way back in the late '60s.  Right before Hurricane Camille hit when I was just a kid, Pop was bringing home buckets and buckets of shrimp that he caught with his net.  Then...along came the hurricane and we were in a fine fix.  This was before the handy-dandy generators that are so popular today.  Pop rigged up a homemade "generator" of sorts from an old lawnmower engine to run our pump but it did not supply enough energy to keep the freezers going.  What was Mom to do with a freezer full of quickly thawing shrimp?  Of course...feed the linemen that were trying their best to restore the electricity to our house!  Pop built a makeshift outdoor burner (wood fired) and brought out the huge canning pots to boil shrimp.  Living on a farm, we had plenty of potatoes and eggs to make potato salad and supply other veggies as sides.  Word got out that we had homecooked meals and the hungry workers were soon feasting.  Mom and Pop both said that those were the "best parties" they ever hosted!  Plus, the hundreds of pounds of shrimp did not go to waste!

  Memories of the shrimp feasts came tumbling from the brain as I casted the net for yet more shrimp the other morning.  Our freezers are full.  Our kids' freezers are (or will be once they come) full.  We have supplied our elderly friends with enough peeled shrimp to give them multiple meals.  Plus, extended family members have received their shares.  Still...I catch.  Mark catches.  We both head and peel the shrimp and feed the needs of so many.  It is a good feeling.

  Along with those pounds and pounds of shrimp, the fish are biting so I always throw out a line as I am shrimping.  Mark usually heads out in the little skiff but I stay back on the pier.  While he is catching redfish and trout, I catch nothing but gars!  It seems that young gars are following the schools of shrimp so the other fish are staying a bit further out.  I kept seeing huge breaks in the water just at the shoreline so I figured perhaps the redfish were dining on shrimp.  Nope...gars.  Just gars.  Do I want a gar for anything?  Nope...not at all, so they get released back into the Bay.

  Those gars even brought back a memory of a "fishing trip" with two of my brothers.  They had found a scuttled boat and tried to make repairs.  Well, those repairs were not the best since they were done by two kids.  Still, I was game to go along with the adventure when they asked.  I was plum happy to be going with my big brothers ANYWHERE!  Little did I know we were going gar fishing on the other side of the Bayou.  They had seen some huge gars there and thought it might be fun to wrestle in one.  Also, little did I know that I was to be designated as "chief bailer".  After paddling to their fishing spot, I was handed a coffee can and told to bail out the water that was steadily seeping into the boat.  Ummm...a little girl with a tin can is not much defense against a myriad of leaks in a boat but I was too scared of the huge gars they were hooking to do anything but bail!  Obviously, there was a good reason that boat had been scuttled!  Oh, the things kids used to be able to do.  Back in the day, we were kids.  We had adventures.  We had childhoods. 

  It is pretty funny how certain things can pull memories out of the cobwebs in the corners of our brains.  When you are doing something repetitively like throwing the net, the mind wanders and recalls delightful things from the past...or, more likely, I am just getting old and wishing for times past.  Either way, the fish, shrimp and crabs are plentiful and I plan on catching and sharing as many as I can.  Perhaps along the way, I can share a few happy memories, as well.

Fish....Brain Food!

   I was reading not too long ago where there are folks in Canada doing research on seafood and its effect on the brain.  The tests are mainly concerning whether seagulls eating garbage (and French fries from handouts) in the large cities are as smart as their counterparts along the coastal areas with their seafood diets.  On "intelligence" tests involving several methods of retrieving food, the coastal seagulls scored immensely higher than their citified cousins.  These studies are, of course, limited with sketchy results but could be compared (at least in theory) to the of studies of healthier diets in humans.  I guess the old sayings of "You are what you eat." and "Fish is brain food."  Seafood, barring that high in mercury, really helps in the long run.  Most cognitive tests run on humans are suggesting that diet has a lot to do with our brainpower.

  I was pondering that while on the pier the other morning.  A beautiful, healthy-looking seagull came to visit.  Here, it has been duly noted that the seagulls are cunning and can survive under the most dire situations.  They are a resilient sort and can outwit most of the other critters here.  They, along with the other fish-eating birds, have sharp minds.  It does not take any of these birds long to figure out how to open closed bait buckets or work together to attain a free meal from even would be predators.  

  After watching the seagulls and studying their habits, I figure the next time someone refers to me as a "birdbrain", I shall take it as a compliment, especially if my mental abilities are compared to those of a seagull.  So...folks...eat more seafood and fewer French fries!  

Just A Cousin

    Sometimes, extended family can be the closest friends you can have...sometimes.  Sometimes, those same family members can be the very ones that will throw you under the bus if ever a chance occurs.  It all boils down to that old adage of "It is better to have an honest enemy than a fake family."  When things come to light, there oftentimes comes a need to purge...family or not. Seriously, though, family is (in most cases) exactly what is needed to make life livable.  The closeness, the love, the laughter...that...THAT is pure bliss.

  This morning, I found a cousin...not of mine but a cousin to another critter.  Most folks are keenly aware of the adorable seahorses that are found the warmer waters of the world. These fine fish are found near coral reefs and in seagrass beds where they have protection from larger predators.  (Yes, they are fish.)  Here, we have an abundance of pipefish.  Pipefish are the sweet cousins of the seahorses!  Like their cousins they tend to hide among the underwater plants as they go about eating tiny plankton.  I occasionally catch one when I am throwing the net for mullet or bait fish.  I marvel at the beauty and then carefully release the tiny critters.

  It is easy to see the "family resemblance" if you ever take the time to really observe the pipefish.  Their heads and "snouts" are so much like that of the seahorses.  These snouts are specialized to capture small prey that other fish overlook.  Also, like their cousins, pipefish are extremely camouflaged and can go unseen in a bed of seagrass.  This helps them avoid being eaten and also helps them to capture food.  Another way they are like their cousins, is the male pipefish gives birth not the female.  He has a specialized brood pouch which can hold up to dozens of eggs or tiny pipefish!  

  So...there you have it!  Cousins...seahorses and pipefish!  Oh...let us not forget their other cousins...the sea dragons but they are way over in Australia not around my Bayou!

Tree Fish!

   I have a friend who is one of the most amazing photographers.  His eye for beauty and his ability to capture the moment is uncanny.  We have never met in person but share an interest in preserving nature and recording what is there before it is gone forever.  I stand in awe of his ability.  He is also highly interested in "seeing" things in his photographs.  He introduced me to the word..."pareidolia" which is a fancy word for seeing faces (or other objects) where there are none.  While David taught me the word, my granddad had long before taught me how to see the things hidden in plain sight.  I really had no idea there was even a name given to this.

  Yesterday morning, I found the perfect spot to photograph the eastern horizon.  From where I stood, the skyline was perfectly framed by trees.  The contrast between the pitch black area under the trees to the softly illuminated opposite shore was nothing less than enchanting.  All sorts of things flew around in the brain.  There were stories to be told about the Bayou simply from this point of view! 

  It was not until I viewed the photographs a bit later that my eye caught the "fish" in the trees!  The leaves of the hickory tree were quite eaten by caterpillars but it was the placement of the holes that was intriguing.  A lot of the leaves resembled fish!  I had a whole school of little fishies in the treetops!  Yep, this pareidolia is contagious!

  Just a little background here.  Years and years ago, seeing faces (or other objects) where there were none was actually thought to be a symptom of psychosis.  In other words, if you went around seeing things that were not there, people thought you had lost touch with reality.  Then, it was found that it was a pretty normal thing and became widely accepted as just human nature.  Since I am one who sees a lot of things that others do not, I am glad to hear that it is pretty normal.  (It may be the only normal thing about me!)  Anyway, I am glad to know that I am not the only one that does this and I am glad to know it has a name.  I am also glad the caterpillars ate the hickory tree and not my cabbage plants!

Distracted by life

   Late this afternoon, I had to escape the confines of the Little Bayou House.  I am good with being inside for a while but then I have to heed the calls of the Bayou.  Not all of us are bemoaning the social distancing recommendations.  Some of us were born to be that way so solitude suits us.  We find adventure where it falls and do not depend on others to create our happiness.  That said, I did, indeed, escape.  For a few hours, I wandered the hillside, woods and creek bed.  I was tempted to go to the far side of the creek and spend time there but got distracted by Friend Osprey.

 The shriek of the osprey drew my attention upward to the top of the barren gum trees.  The bird was perched with something held tightly in its talons.  The osprey had made a catch and it appeared to be quite large.  At first, the bird eyed me.  I suppose I was no threat as soon it started ripping shreds of meat from the fish.  I stood in awe as I watched the bird eat.  Holding onto the tree limb with one foot and grasping the fish in the talons of the other, the bird was able to maneuver its meal to its advantage.  The large, curved beak easily tore long strips from the fish's side.  Then, throwing its head upward, the osprey swallowed the tidbit.  Nary a piece was dropped.  

  Once it stripped the fish clean, it dropped the carcass to the ground. The osprey will sleep well this chilly night with its belly full.  Some other critter, perhaps a raccoon, will finish off the remains of the fish.  It, too, will sleep well.  That one fish satisfied at least two animals.  Life goes on for those adept at survival.

Catching Mullet

  During this time of year, it is a common thing to see boats dotting the bay with someone in the front throwing a net.  Mullet school as they are heavy with roe and are heading off shore to spawn.  Each female can lay one to seven million round eggs on the sandy bottom.  Many of the eggs are eaten by other fish but after about thirty-six hours the rest hatch.  The little ones are also fair game for larger fish and even birds.  Many do not make it past their first week of life but those that do, head back to the shallows of the bays and bayous.  There they feed and grow to produce another generation.

  The mullet run occurs in late October and goes on through November. This is the time that local fisherman can catch a literal boatload of the fish.  While a lot of uppity folks claim they would never eat a mullet the fish has pulled a lot of folks through hard times.  Down here in the Deep South, we are grateful for what we have and never pretend we are too highfalutin to eat a mullet.  We know how to clean and fry a mullet so that they are actually delicious!  Its a Southern thing, folks, get over it.

  Mark has been catching his share of the fish, lately.  Since we know that mullet are best eaten the same day they are caught, very few will make it to the freezer.  Most of the fish he catches are cleaned and given to a bunch of our elderly friends.  They appreciate the time and effort that Mark takes to provide them with fresh fish.  Most of them have memories of doing just what he does.  

  The net-throwing takes a bit of skill in itself but when throwing from a boat, you had better have good balance, as well. A small skiff like we use to go "mulleting" (I am not referring to a hairstyle here but a way of catching fish) can shift out from under you in a heartbeat!  Let that boat get full of flippity-floppity fish and it gets a bit slippery so wearing a good pair of non-slip shoes is also a requirement!  Mark has this task down pat and comes home with buckets full of the fish.  An hour later, the fish are cleaned, fried and eaten or delivered to our friends!  Life on the Bayou is good.

Wow! Just Wow!

  This morning, Mark and I headed to the pier.  It was a beautiful day and he just knew the fish would be biting.  He threw out several baits (all we could catch) then picked up the net to catch a mess of mullet.  If you can't catch fish one way, there is always an alternate method!  After catching about twenty mullet, he started to clean the fish.  I headed back to the Little Bayou House to fetch the minnow trap to catch bait. While I was gone, he caught the "Big One"!  

  He knew he had caught a catfish but without looking at what kind it was, he made the comment that it was "the biggest catfish I have ever caught!"  We are accustomed to catching hardhead catfish from the pier.  These are deemed useless for anything except crab bait.  We usually cut the fish and fill the bait boxes of the crab traps but I am sure glad he refrained from cutting this one!  I looked over to see that he caught a huge freshwater catfish!  In fact, the fish was twenty-eight inches long and weighed in just a tad under ten pounds! While this may not be a record-breaking fish by most standards, it is surely the largest freshwater catfish taken from our pier!  What a great catch!

  Mark cleaned the catfish then caught another three dozen or so mullet.  All in all, it was a good day for fishing.  We had a nice lunch of fried fish, gave my brother a full plate of fried fish to take home with him and brought enough fish for two meals to our elderly friends.  We have always felt that sharing the catch assures that our blessings will be repeated in the future and catching fat fish like this one sure makes it easy to have enough to bestow upon others.   

Free Food Is Good!

  Mark and I usually head to the pier early in the morn to catch our lunch.  With crabs and fish plentiful right now, it does not take too long before we have a meal in hand.  It appears that in a few weeks, we will be able to add shrimp to that menu, as well.  Each morning, Mark throws the net to catch bait and mullet.  I sit and fish for whatever will bite.

  This morning while throwing the net, Mark caught several small white trout.  These were about 5 inches in length so they got a reprieve!  As I slipped the small fish back into the water, I pondered several things.  What was the true name of the fish and how long before they will be large enough to eat!  Most of the white trout we catch are about 14 inches long so these two have a long ways to go before they wind up on my plate.  As for the true name, the fish are known as sand seatrout with white trout being a local term.  We call them that simply because they lack the specks that their cousins the spotted seatrout  (speckled trout) have.  These fish are mostly white with golden fins.  After their first year, they get a lavender sheen down their backs.  The lavender looks so pretty with the golden fins.  It is almost a shame to clean the fish for food!  Nah.  Free food is good and I gotta eat!

Something fishy about those teeth!

  For a long time now, I have been trying to get a photograph of the teeth of a sheepshead.  Either I forget when one is caught or the fish is too small to really show the teeth.  Why, may you ask, do I wish to get a picture of a fish's teeth?  Well, it is simply this.  Sheepsheads have weird teeth and I am all about weird things!  What makes this fish's teeth odd is the fact that they have front teeth that look a lot like human teeth and that freaks folks out a bit when they first notice it.  In a large fish, it appears that the fish is wearing dentures!   But the weirdness does not end there!  Once you open the mouth of the fish, you find a whole slew of other teeth just waiting to crush a finger!  Just a thought here...keep your fingers out of a sheepshead's mouth!  Well, it would probably be a good idea to keep the fingers out of any fish's mouth...so just do it.  The entire inner part of the mouth and down the throat a bit are lined with flat teeth that are used to crush shells.  The fish feeds a lot on shellfish and crabs so it needs a way to get past the hard part.  The shell is cracked and the inner soft part is devoured while the shell remnants are discarded  That should give you an idea of the power involved in the workings of this mouth!  Those blunt front teeth are used to snip barnacles off of pilings and such.  

  Mark caught a sheepshead in the net this morning so it gave me the perfect opportunity to photograph the teeth.  He was patient enough to hold the fish for me and even got the mouth open so I could attempt an "inside" shot.  This was really awkward as the fish has fins that are sharp spines.  Come to think about it, the sheepshead is a pretty well armed fish!  Lots of stabby, pointy spines and a mouth full of shell-crushing teeth.  

Wearing the Stripes

  Nowadays, it is hard to tell just who you can trust.  People are often all sweet to your face but will turn against you given a half of chance.  (Notice, I said "people" and not folks.  Folks are honest.  People, on the other hand, tend to get on my nerves.)  To me, those being sneaky and underhanded, while being sugar-coated in your presence are lower than low.  I am a pretty easy-going person and like to give people the benefit of the doubt but, when that "doubt" is blatantly obvious, something has to be done.  Life would be easier if the "cheats" all had to wear prison stripes so they can be easily identified.

  
  In the critter world, there is a fish that is known to be a thief.  In fact, it even wears those prison stripes to proclaim itself as a crook and bears a nickname of Convict Fish.   The Sheepshead can steal a bait sooner than you can shake a stick making fishing problematic, at times.  You are not going to catch supper with an empty hook.  Occasionally, however, the fish is caught and the tables are turned.  Its thieving ways are over and it must pay the price.  Karma is served up on a big platter.  It is amazing how fishing can be related to all things in life.  Keeping that in mind, it is easier to sit on the pier and while away the hours than deal with people.  Go fishing.  It clears the mind.

 

 

Fish Bait?

  I was pondering the lowly fish that locals around here only think of as bait.  It must be a sad day in your life when you realize that your major role is to be used to catch something bigger and better.  What does that say?  Then again, maybe it is a sad day in their lives anyway as they are caught so it really does not matter what the end result is unless they are returned to the water intact.  But still....

  That thinking got the wheels in my brain a-turning and I had to find out more about our bait of choice, Menhaden.  I have to admit, the little fish are excellent bait but that is not as far as their worth goes according to the human rating system.  The fish are used for far more things than I ever imagined.  The largest use is as fish oil.  Billions (yes, billions) of pounds each year are caught and the oil is extracted.  This oil is used in dietary supplements, in human food, in pet food and...get this...as an additive to fish food.  (The fish are caught to feed other fish?)  After the oil is removed, the rest of the fish is dried and ground into fish meal which is also added to animal food. A bit of further investigation also revealed that these little fishies are big money to those folks who create makeup and lipstick.  That shimmer and glimmer in many makeup products and lipsticks is due to added fish scales.  The Menhaden scales actually do resemble glitter! (So the next time you wear some glittery makeup, think fish.)

  The fishing for the pogies goes back a long way.  For centuries, the tiny fish were caught and used as fertilizer on farms and as food for hogs.  As fertilizer, the fish decay quickly making the soil much richer and promoting rapid growth of the plants.  Farmers of old used the fish instead of chemicals that are now dumped into the soil.  While some folks would decry that this is unsanitary, it was a far safer mode of fertilizing plants than that of today.  I have tried it...it works.  The garden did well with only a few flies in the ointment...literally.  While that saying usually means "problems", I actually had flies...coons, birds, cats, dogs, coyotes, turtles and a myriad of other critters digging up my fishy fertilizer.  So...if you try this, make sure to not use it in a garden near the house.  Once critters dig up your fishies, the stench gets pretty bad.  Also, bury them deep!  Very deep.  And wait a week or two before digging around in there.  You really do not want to dig up any surprises.  Other than that, as a fertilizer, the fish did well.  I had some of the best tomatoes that year!  

  So, in thinking about these little fish and their many, many uses, it seems to me that Menhaden need to be recognized as more important than just a fish bait.  Think of how many things revolve around their very existence and with the billions of pounds harvested each year, be thankful for that female that can produce up to 300,000 eggs per year!  She keeps things running like a well-oiled machine.  (Yeah, I went there...sorry.)  

Fishing for memories!

  For the past several days, the Bayou has seen its share of stormy weather.  Nothing terrible but just enough to keep us inside.  Mark and I make short (quick) trips to the pier to check the small skiff but usually get chased in by the rain.  Not only has there been copious rainfall, the wind has been churning up the Bay.  This is all good by me but has Mark a bit antsy.  He wanted to go fishing!  It is a no-go, however, as the skiff bounces around like a toy boat in a whirlpool!  It just is not safe.

  This morning, that desire to fish got the best of him.  While on the pier, he threw the net a few times  "just to see if there is anything out there".  Well, there was not much.  He caught one small croaker and that was it!  The croaker was photographed then released.  It happily swam away unscathed.  That croaker got me thinking of days passed when my cousin and I would paddle out in (of all things, a molded plastic lifeboat that we called "The Bathtub").  We were young...probably too young to be out in the middle of the Bay by ourselves but times were different then.  We never felt that we were in danger and I am sure my aunt kept a watchful eye on us from her kitchen window. 

  Croakers were the prize we were set to catch.  They were quick to bite and easy to hook.  Just about anything could be used as bait as they were not picky.  It was our goal to catch as many as we could in the short time we were allowed to fish.  Usually, we were told to be home before noon as the fish had to be cleaned for lunch.  Neither of us had a watch so our "alarm" was Aunt Marie letting out a yell for us to come home.  Her voice would carry across the open Bay with no problems.  We, then, would paddle back home with our catch.  The fish were cleaned and Aunt Marie would fry them.  It was then our job to get back in that little boat and paddle down the shoreline to my uncle's place.  He was building a house there and had little time to cook lunch.  We toted it to him.  Croakers were on the menu quite often.

  It is funny how seeing the pretty, little fish with its golden scales started the flood of memories.  Those were good times...happy, carefree times.  Margie and I had no worries, no fears.  Unlike kids today, we spent our summers outside not cooped up inside glued to some electronic device.  We played, roamed the woods, fished in the Bay and generally were just being kids.  I miss those days.

Another Tempest

  With the way things look at the moment, the Gulf of Mexico has received another slap in the face.  Just nine years ago, we had to endure the oil spill that, not only killed off so many marine creatures, it also killed off so many lifelines of the Coastal families.  We are a seafood based industry down here.  Fishing is a way life.  The shrimpers, oystermen, fishermen, crabbers, seafood factories, charterboat captains...you name it...were all out of jobs.  Their boats and gear lay idle while the oil killed most everything within its reach.  Many lost their boats.  Others lost their homes.  All lost their way of life.  It was a hard time for the Coast.  It was years before things began to return to any semblance of normality.  Finally, the seafood returned and was deemed fit to eat.   It took years after that for the industry to return to its profitable self but many folks had already moved on to be able to support their families.

  Now, the Gulf of Mexico faces another tempest.  While all Coastians are ready and eager to help those in the flooded zones of the country, opening the spillways has, once again, created a mess for the fishermen. The marine creatures are dying at a great rate.  Countless dead dolphins, sea turtles and fish are washing ashore.  Entire oyster reefs have died.  Crabs have literally suffocated.  Shorebirds are not to be found. Schools of fish and shrimp have moved further out in an attempt to escape the water pouring into the Gulf. Many folks do not seem to see the harm in what has been done.  "It is just fresh river water so it cannot be doing any harm." is said over and over again.  Sorry, that fresh river water wreaks havoc on saltwater marine life.  They do not have time to acclimate before it kills them.  That "fresh" river water is also polluted from runoff.  Whatever has been flooded up north of us has now spilled into the Gulf.  Fertilizer, sewage, any number of chemicals and...yes...oil is making a mess down here.  

  Don't get me wrong.  We are not blaming anyone.  We are not pointing fingers.  We are not begrudging those who are trying to save their places and livelihoods that are flooded.  We understand THAT whole scenario as we are subjected to hurricanes that flood our area and we are sympathetic to those that are suffering.  We understand that something had to be done to provide some relief.  However, there has to be another answer.  Opening the spillways has done nothing but spread the devastation to another area.  

  All of that said, the fishermen down here are working frenetically to catch what they can before the waters get any worse.  The boats are going out further to make catches of "clean" shrimp and fish.  (The crabbers and oystermen do not have that option.)  This plan is working as far as catches but puts a new strain on the fishermen.  Fuel prices, boat upkeep and extra time spent are making it a struggle to "stay afloat".  The fact stands that the wages they earn has not kept up with the current state of affairs.   Many cannot afford to keep running as their expense outweigh their profits.  It is a sad situation.  

  Mark and I were able to get shrimp today from one of our longtime suppliers.  This shrimper had to go outside of the "dirty" zone to get a good catch.  The shrimp are beautiful and we are thankful he made the decision to keep trying.  It is our plan to buy as many pounds of shrimp as we can to help those struggling.  We have been there and done that ourselves.  It is also our plan to stock up on the seafood so that, if worse comes to worse, we will have a good supply on hand to ride us over until the Gulf cleanses itself.  Our freezers will be filled to capacity within the next few weeks.  To those in the flooded zones and to those struggling with the situation in the Gulf, we hope and pray that this is soon over for all of us.  To those with the ability to help any in need, please do.  There are so many out there that have been affected that need help.  We are all in this together.

 

Poor Old Pup

  Yesterday, the old dog nigh on refused to budge off his bed.  He was not about to go out in the rain for any reason.  All attempts to coax him out were soon aborted and I just let him be.  He snoozed away the day and had no problems throughout the night.  (Which was a good thing because I snoozed away the night and would not have heard him.)  This old dog does not like rain or water of any sort.  

  This morning was a different story altogether.  He was ready and eager to trot about the  hillside and actually made it to the end of the pier with little or no urging.  He was blissful just to be in the sunshine and watch the mullet jump in the Bay.  So blissful, in fact, that he was oblivious to all activity around him.

  At one point, Mark threw the net for minnows and caught a rather large mullet.  The fish was tossed on the pier where it flippity-flopped.  Mr. PJ was far too interested in the fish leaping out of the water to notice that one of those same fish was about to whop him.  I figured I had better do something with that fish before it scared the bejeebies out of the unsuspecting dog!

  I am sure that at some point, age will put a nix on the trips to the pier for Mr. PJ but, for now, we go as often as his old legs will take him.  The pier is one of the old dog's favorite places to be.  There he can soak up a bit of sunshine, feel the breeze on his face AND get whopped by a bouncing fish!

Is That Bait?

  The other day, Mark and I were fishing on the pier.  While we were in hopes to catch a few fish for our lunch, we were also trying to catch "trash" fish to use as crab bait.  The crab pots were empty and, well, to catch crabs, you have to entice them to go into the traps in the first place.  So any fish we caught would be put to good use.  The first few bites we got were pointless nibbles.  The small fish would hit and miss.  Small nips were taken but not the good "run with it" type bites that result in a setting of the hook.  It appeared that it was to be a slow day fishing.

  Then, my line started going out at a nice pace.  This looked better!  I set the hook and landed a nice sized hard-head catfish.  This was not good for our lunch but the crabs would at least dine well!  After a bit. Mark caught a fish.  I had to tease him a bit because his was a tiny gaff-topsail fish.  "Is that your bait?" I ragged him.  Laughing, he agreed that the tidbit of a fish could very well be used as bait.  After a few photographs, the tiny tot was tossed back into the water and told to grow a bit before coming back!

  It seems that the Bay is full of these tiny gaff-topsails and tiny catfish.  It makes you wonder just how these little ones survive out there with no protection from adult fish.  We humans are so protective of our little ones that it is hard to fathom how other creatures have no maternal/paternal feelings whatsoever for their offspring.  In the wild, there are a lot of critters that would dine upon their own young if given the chance.  The recognition of offspring is just not there.  It is especially so with fish and reptiles.  Those little ones had better move along when it comes to meeting the folks.  

Bayou Secrets!

  It seems as if the Bayou is full of the most interesting things.  At least, I find them interesting.  Others probably do not but then, again, Son says I am easily amused...maybe?   The most recent find is, not only interesting, but also weird!  To be totally honest, I am not sure what it is!  Yes, I realize it is a skeleton but...

  While on the pier, I nearly stepped on what appeared at first glance to be some strange bug.  I quickly picked up my foot to realize that this was not a living creature (was one but no longer).  It was a skeleton of something rather "fishy".  It made sense that this is a fish skeleton of some sort but what was it doing on the pier and what type fish had these bones?  I have no clue to either question.  Being only about three inches long, the thing greatly resembled a creepy bug!  The (what I am assuming were) ribs splayed out in strange positions.  Whether this was how the fish actually was formed or whether this was due to my almost squishing the skeleton remains unknown as well. Each rib was awfully pointy, however and the foremost two were brought forward to make them almost appear to be pincers.  Now, no fish that I have ever seen around here has pincers so that is likely another misconception on my part or a bit of warped imagination coming in strong.  Both are a high possibility!

  The mystery skeleton was flipped back into the water whence it came.  The earth-shaking questions of its original form sank to the muddy bottom to be hidden from sight forever!  The Bayou sometimes does not tell its secrets!

Greed Gets You Every Time!

  Greed is not a pretty thing.  It causes a lot of pain in more ways than one and, in the end, will come back to bite us in the butt.  This is not only true from the human aspect but also with the critters of the world.  Let a predator attack something a little too large and old karma is just liable to strike back.  The primal urge of greed becomes the ultimate downfall.  

  This morning, that primal urge was working at its best.  Mark and I had settled into fishing from the pier this morning.  A few mornings ago, I had caught four red drums and we were in hopes of a few more.  The ones this morning were to be cleaned and shared with our sweet elderly friends.  We were using little mullet for bait.  These were between three and four inches in length and would offer any red fish a delightful mouthful.  It was not long before I saw my line lift. Ok!  I had a bite.  I waited then set the hook.  Well, where was my fish?  Nothing was pulling back on the line.  Something was sorely amiss.  I wound in the line to check my bait when I realized that I did, indeed, have a fish on that hook but what a mess!

  A small croaker, not much larger than my bait, had decided to take a nibble and wound up getting hooked....and tangled!  Once the hook was embedded in the fish, the live mullet literally hog-tied the croaker!  Now. both dangled from the line!  The croaker was both hooked and ensnared.  That fish should have kept to smaller morsels for his breakfast.  Attacking a mullet of this size was too much for the small croaker and it became his downfall.  Greed has a way of coming back to bite those who practice it.  Best keep your mouth shut, Mr. Croaker!  You are in a fine fix now!

In Search of Algae!

  Mark and  I often use little mullet as bait for the trout, red drums and flounders that we catch from the pier.  Right now, the Bay is full of schools of the mullet.  Thousands upon thousands of the tiny, three inch long fish swim by the pier each day.  When the tide is falling, the fish are usually headed west.  When it is rising, they make the trip back east.   This twice daily migration is rather curious!  Why were they traveling in these directions with the tide changes.  It is simple.

  The main part of the Bayou lies on the east side of our pier.  To the west, the waters gradually deepen.  During the high tide eastward migration, the mullet are headed to the Big Draw (an old time name for the Bayou).   School after school of the fish pass by the pier and it is all for one reason.  Mullet do not feed like other fish.  They, like catfish, are bottom feeders.  They sift through the mud finding tiny pieces of plant material.  Once they are in the Bayou, they feast upon algae and can be seen actually sucking the stuff from the surface of the water.  The brackish, almost stagnant water of the Bayou holds literally tons of algae making it the perfect feeding ground for the baby mullet.  The abundance of food coupled with the protection that shallow waters provide, is quite desirable for the fish.  Mystery solved!

  

Had To Call On The Experts Again

  Living around the water all my life, it is only natural that I have picked up some of the local names for fish. If there is one thing I have learned lately, it is that some of those local names are not too correct.  If you really get into looking at the taxonomy of sea critters, it can get a tad confusing when what you have always called a "cigar fish" is actually a goby and that name applies to a whole different species.  The same with our "sardines".  They are not the sardines that you find in the can but are menhaden.  That said, I am now taking the time to at least learn some of the proper names of the fish that I see just about on a daily basis.  A nice, young man named Andre works for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration or NOAA and is an expert in fish identification.  While I do not know the young man personally, he has taken the time on many occasions to give me the proper name of a critter.  This evening, he came to my rescue once again with loads of information.  Not only did he identify the fish, he told of a study that involves one of my questionable species.  It is nice to know there are still helpful people in this old world.

  This evening as I was out catching mullet for Moe, the heron, I also caught two lovely fish that did not make it to his dinner platter.  A goby and a lizard fish were photographed then released.  While I had an inkling about each of these, I had questions.  First the IDs were established.  Yep, instead of what I had been told by others, my goby is a "Naked Goby" (Gobiosoma bosca).  It is very common in the northern parts of the Gulf of Mexico and, obviously, the Bayou.  Andre answered a question that has been puzzling me for a bit.  Why do gobies have blue sparkles in their mouth?  Andre explained that this was to attract prey.  Smaller fish literally swim into the mouth of the goby.  Well, that makes sense to me.  I guess every critter has to have some secret to survive.

  The Inshore Lizard Fish (Synodus foetens) is also rather common in the northern part of the Gulf but usually stays more in the waters with sandy bottoms and rarely makes an appearance in the muddy bottoms of places like the Bayou.  I asked if this fish would literally take a hunk out of my hand as it seems to be a bit aggressive and has lots (LOTS) of teeth.  The answer..."You would be advised to keep the fingers clear of the mouth area."  Enough said.  Obviously, the lizard fish might just snap at me!  This is the fish that the biologists at NOAA are studying at the moment.  The scientists are tracking the fish, examining the contents of the stomachs and observing the overall health of the lizard fish.  Andre said he appreciated me letting him know that one was caught and released all the way up in the Bayou.  Maybe my little lizard fish will make mention in some big study now!  Thanks to Andre, I now can feel somewhat better about these two fish!