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.

Katrina....Stop already with the "gifts"!

  Living on a bayou, one expects (or at least should expect) storms to roll in from the Gulf.  Most of these storms are not so severe that the damage is lasting but every so often one will ravage the area. Hurricane Camille was the "benchmark" storm for a long while.   It was the storm that made history.  For years, tales from those surviving the storm were regaled during front porch visits.  Although the farm where I grew up was not right on the water like the Little Bayou House, we did see a good bit of damage from that storm.  Then, along came Hurricane Katrina.  A new benchmark was set.  This was the storm that beat all storms.  It is one that will be in our lore for years to come.  Someone once said that Hurricane Camille killed more folks during Hurricane Katrina than it did when it hit the Coast.  People never expected a storm to be stronger than the one that they survived. I say...never trust a hurricane. (And, for the sake of argument, Katrina did hit here.  We did get the brunt of the winds and surge because we were in the northeast quadrant..the strongest part of any storm.  But we did not get the news coverage that other places did.  So be it.  We survived.)  Hurricane Katrina was one to reckon with and one to deal with even twelve years down the line. 

  Now, dealing with what Katrina left behind is becoming quite evident. The recent rains did not do us any favors.  During the month of June alone, our area received over 24 inches of rain.  Hmmm, that is more than some places see annually.  With the Little Bayou House sitting high on a hill overlooking the Bayou, we had little worries of flooding from these rains.  What did happen was that the torrential downpours washed dirt and sand down into the marsh.  While this is not too bad for the marsh, it is bad for the hillside.  Ruts have been washed wherever there was a lack of good sod.  These ruts now have exposed a previously unseen hazard.  Both of the aforementioned storms dumped tons of debris on our property.  A lot of this debris was covered over with several feet of sand that had been carried on the tidal surge all the way from the beach.  For over a decade now, stuff laid buried beneath the sand and presented no problems.  It would have been great if it had stayed that way.

  This afternoon, I made a quick hike around the hillside.  At one point, I noticed some broken glass in one of the washout places.  As I picked up glass, more became exposed.  Nigh on a gallon bucket of glass shards was in this one area.  I was a bit leery about being sliced by the shards so only those readily reachable were gathered.  Tomorrow, a rake, shovel and bucket will be put to use once again.  One thing that I have learned...it is smart to watch where you step.  Any one of these shards could have easily sliced right through my leather moccasin and punctured my foot.  Above is the first handful of shards that I retrieved on my walk.  I had to go back with a bucket to get more.

  Tomorrow's cleanup (over a decade after the fact) is in preparation of a special visitor to the Little Bayou House.  I will be fostering a dog while my son, daughter-in-law and grandbabies are away for an extended time.  I would hate to think that PJ might cut his foot while he is in my care.  I will have to keep a close watch where he runs....or maybe get him shoes!  Hmmm?  Now that is a thought!  Nah, a good scan of the lower part of the yard on a daily basis will solve the problem.