Roughly 25 years after the Uncle Richard and Dad photo, at about the same point in my life...another fishy picture. At this time in my life, I was the Ranger in residence at Fort Matanzas National Monument. One of the benefits of living in a park is when the park closes...it's yours. So I could fish off the Park Service dock in the evening.
The flounder loved to lie beneath the dock ambushing fish as they flowed in or out with the tide.
I loved to stand on the dock at night ambushing the flounder.
14 comments:
Where is all of your hair?
Pablo
Roundrockjournal.com
P.S. Blogger seems to hate me.
I am loving your posts! I come over and play catch up 4 or 5 days at a time. So now- thank you for the great Wood Storks, algae and Bill's door. And the fishing story of your dad and uncle is wonderful. Flounder? They are so bizarre. Like Halibut in Alaska. Do you think if we stayed in bed ALL the time one eye would migrate around our face? Weird.
Pablo,
Maturity?
Thing,
Yes, I love dogs ...too much. It's not a great picture of "Ben"...as dogs do, he wandered into the picture. I couldn't quite crop his shoulders out without losing a flounder and I hate to lose a fish!
Ben will get his own post in the near future. He was one of the nicer things I have done...
Vicki,
Thanks for the kind words. As for eyes changing position...in my job I need one to migrate to the back of my head!
Heh, men have remarkable memories about their fishing experiences. Whenever we paddle the pond I hear at least one recounting of a fish story..."In March of '78 I caught a really nice speckle right by that stump -- no, not that one, look a little to your left..."
He even remembers my fish stories. He is particularly fond of recounting the story of the flyer I caught while "trolling" from our canoe. I was nine months pregnant at the time and my back was tired. I sat in the bottom of the canoe with my back against the seat and my feet resting up on the gunwales to either side of the bow deck plate. It was quite a surprise when a fish struck my lure :) And yes, I did land the fish.
Oh, sorry, "speckle" in these parts refers to black crappie, and "flyer" should be spelled "flier." There, I feel better now -- must be the former school teacher in me coming out :)
Swamp,
We remember the important stuff! Those fish names translate the same down here, but the flier is really a rare catch...at least for me. I have only caught one and had to go look him up (not something I have to do with fish very often).
I can relate to the spelling thing... I cringe when I click and then there it is ... a mispelled word for the whole world to see.
I cannot look at a fish without thinking about eating it...except for Nemo. How do you cook those things and what do they taste like...catfish maybe?
I am such a rube.
PS. I would like to know what Pablo did to be so hated by Blogger. Then I can avoid having my identity erased.
Your catch looks rather puny compared to your father's and your uncle's. Maybe he can still teach you a thing or two.
Hick,
Maybe blogger prefers square rocks. Pablo has obviously offended blogger and is paying the price.
Farmer,
LOL! It's true! He doesn't fish anymore, but I still haven't caught up with him.
boy, that musta been some real good eatin'!
Laura,
The best!
Nice door mat your holding.I'm still trying to learn to catch them on rod and reel,of course at night with lights gigging them is my favorive way.
Rick,
I'm with you on that. I was really proud of that doormat and showed it to your dad the next morning before I cleaned it. He had gone floundering that night and pulled an even larger one from his ice chest. I still remember that.
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