Nature's Christmas Bonus
It was a week before Christmas and not hardly a dime in the house. We had just spent
the last of the paycheck on groceries, formula and a visit to the doctor. The babies were sick and we
are hoping it’s not the flu. There wouldn’t be another job starting until after the new-year and things
were looking grim. It is before day light and I’m pulling the boat to Sabine Pass to try my hand at sea
bobs. Sea bobs are a small shrimp that show up in the winter and are used for dried shrimp and some
canned shrimp.
As I get to the boat launch at Texas Bayou the sky is starting to lighten. It is going to be a cold gray
day with the wind out of the north. I put the boat in and pay Mr. Bossley. Heading out you have to duck
as you go under a low bridge to get to the ship channel. I turn and head towards the jetties passing
Mobley’s shrimp house that at one time served as the Coast Guard station. I can see the start of the
granite block jetties and the pilot station. The pilot station is at the end of the road and sits on
pilings just inside the jetty wall. This is where the pilots can rest and wait on ships coming into
port. Tied to the jetties is the pilot boat. I wave to the crew as I pass and head to the Louisiana side
of the channel looking for the small boat pass which is actually a break in the jetty wall wide enough,
if you are careful, for a small boat to go thru. Getting to the pass I adjust the throttle , catch the
surge and gun my way thru the pass into the open gulf.
With the north wind the ground swell is not too bad and the surf is almost flat. My plan is to swing
wide and head into the shore and fish the pocket where the jetty runs into the beach. When I think I’m
in the third gut I turn back to the jetty and put out the trawl. The trawl is 25 foot wide made from
surplus menhaden purse seine netting, legal in Louisiana but not in Texas, attached to two 2x4 foot
trawl doors with about 200 feet of nylon tow rope. With this done I pour my first cup of Seaport coffee
and adjust my course. In my sub-conscious I’m listening to the motor (something I still do to this day)
as I hear it start to labor and look back to see the tow ropes closing on each other. “D--- the net is
hung up.” Putting the motor in neutral I begin hauling in the tow ropes. I’m actually pulling the boat
to the net. I pull in the trawl doors and set them inside boat I can see shrimp jumping out of the net.
What has happen is the net has so many shrimp in it that the trawl doors and motor cannot keep the net
open. Working my way down the chain and float lines from the door I close up the mouth of the net and
tie it off to the boat. At this time I need to get into deeper water and away from the beach. I still
have all of the net in the water and there is no way I’m going to get it in the boat. I can see the tail
buoy floating out away from the boat so I grab my hook and heaving line, those Alaskan boys don’t have
anything new, and snag the buoy. Pulling in the tail of the net I can see the bag bulging with shrimp,
what a mess, so I tie it off to the boat and ease the boat out into deeper water moving like a crab in
the water.
Now is the time to start getting the catch into the boat. About halfway up the bag, the bag or pocket or
cod end what you want to call it is made of a section of heavy netting to take the abrasion of dragging
on the bottom and the strain of collecting the catch, there are sewn a series of metal rings with a rope
or strap ran thru them and tied in a loop. Using the davit and hand winch I am able to lift small
portions of the catch into the boat by hooking onto the strap in the rings and lifting. As the net is
lifted the bag comes up filled with shrimp and the excess falling back into the net. I swing the bag
filled over the side and pull the rope tied to the end of bag tied in a chain knot releasing the shrimp
into the bottom of the boat. Retying the net closed I drop it over the side allowing the shrimp to
refill the bag, repeating the process over and over again. In order to keep the catch from shifting
around in the boat and causing it to capsize I had prepared the boat the day before by taking everything
out of the boat except net and installed a series of plywood panels cut to fit across the boat attached
to the frames and some pre-notched panels that slide into the cross panels creating compartments to hold
the catch in place.
By now I’m standing knee deep in shrimp and the boat is sitting lower and lower in
the water. It’s time for common sense to take over or let greed prevail. You guessed it, I keep on
loading the boat until the net is in the boat and it’s time to head to the buy house I had passed
earlier. The boat is way overloaded and at risk of sinking at each passing wave. I think there is a life
jacket stuffed under the bow by the fuel tank--probably never get it out anyway. I can see the buy house
now and there are no boats there which means I can start unloading quickly. I tie up at their dock that
is exposed to the open channel and the wake of any passing ships . A man on the dock lowers a wire fish
basket on a cable with a grain scoop to me and I start filling the basket. When it is full they lift it
and dump it in a hopper with water and a conveyor. The shrimp are washed and transferred back under the
building and deposited in wooden crates. The crates are weighted, iced and stacked to one side. When the
boat is unloaded I take the ticket upstairs where I trade it for a roll of bills.
I’m back out where I first started this morning , but the shrimp are scattered now
and I have to make a number of drags to get a load. When I’m loaded I head back and repeat the process
again. It’s getting late , I’ve been at this all day and I’m tired, wet and getting cold as I load the
boat on the trailer and head into Sabine Pass and a pay phone to call home. I’ve had a good day and
figure I have somewhere around $2500 jammed down in my jeans. My happiness about today’s catch soon
disappears as a tearful, frantic voice answers and I am soon to learn a fishing lesson I’ll never
forget.
PS: Forty something years later and we still don’t talk about this trip.
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