Dads and Fishing

I loved your comment lifeisamazing. By your comment about a Native American lake can I assume you live out west somewhere? I will be posting my stories soon but at this moment I don't have the time to put into it because of an appointment. I shall return.

Here's another one if you're interested: When I became an adult I visited my dad near Homestead, FL. He was not as strong and spry as he was in the last story I wrote. Dad had a secret place near Marathon where he loved to fish for small barracuda (the small ones are great to eat). Being anxious to show me this spot, he got me up early one warm and humid morning and we drove to a spot along a dirt road. The road finally opened up on a clearing near a cove. It became obvious that this clearing was actually a grave yard of old, rusty barges scattered around the landscape; some of them partially submerged in the cove. The moment we opened the car door we were the target of some of hungriest mosquitos the world has ever seen. They were very small but drank blood like full grown vampires. Fortunately though, we just happened to have some good repellant with us and we quickly remedied that situation The spot from which Dad chose to fish was off one of those rusty barges. Instead of barracuda, we caught blue crabs, sometimes two at a time. Now, blue crabs are noted for their ugly disposition besides being great eating, but we kept fishing and shaking them off the bait into an ice chest. Dad decided he was going to try another part of the barge where he thought he would have a better chance of catching a barracuda. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it happen. I watched him as he disappeared through the rusty hull of that barge right into the water. Before I even heard the splash, I had already decided what kind of first-aid I was going to give him, the route I was going to take to the hospital, and even what doctor he was going to see, because I knew he was going to be badly injured. When I got to the hole, I literally saw my Dad seem to fly up out of that hole just like Superman. I still don't know, to this day, how he did that. I guess, when you have a fear of being eaten, alive by blue crabs you can do marvelous things. All he ended up with were a few scratches. That night we ate boiled crabs, crab cakes, crab gumbo, but no barracuda.

That's great jer31558. Thanks for your nostalgic response.