The two of them took a small fishing boat that had a decrepit old 5hp motor on it, up the Mississippi River a few miles from where they had parked the car and embarked on their fishing outing.
Hattie was a 'bare bones' fisherman..(excuse me... fisherperson)....her equipment consisted of a long old cane pole, huge feathered treble hooks, and a wad of nightcrawlers for bait. (For anyone who isn't familiar with the term 'nightcrawler', it's a large earthworm... something between the size of a normal earthworm, and an Anaconda..... *smiles*... well, you get the idea.. they are a good sized worm.
Anyway, getting back to the story... Hattie needed no more than that equipment to land the big ones.
She had done it before.
She would do it again.

Hattie was positioned in the front of the old flat bottomed boat, hubby in the back, manning the motor. They found a place, dropped the anchor, and commenced to fish. Hattie clutched the old cane pole with both hands, swung it backward over her head, and let fly with all the force in her!
Hmmm.... must have caught a branch.... Hattie pulled, trying to free the hooks.
She tightened her grip, and yanked the pole again.
The hooks were still firmly planted.
Suddenly.... the line pulled back... almost pulling the pole from Hattie's hands, but she held a firm grip as she turned to see what she had snagged.
Her cast had snagged hubby right throught the cartilage of his nose.
Not good.
And........
with the final yank, the hooks had positioned themselves in such a way, that the feathers were at a rakish angle on top of hubby's nose, and the 'crawlers' were trying to find refuge... wriggling up the nearest opening they could find.
Of course, he had not had the foresight to carry a mirror in the tacklebox, nor a pair of cutters...so, after removing the crawlers from the hooks, they headed back down river....
putt...
putt...
putt...
Feathers wafting gently in the breeze.

After what seemed like hours, they finally got back home, and to the doctor, who was able to cut the hooks and remove the barb of the hook, which was embedded deeply in his nose....
OUCH!!!

That was the last time Hattie went fishing with hubby....and after the news of the escapade, no one else was ever brave enough to take her fishing in a boat again.
Her fishing was done thereafter from dry land...with escorts giving her very wide berth!

Hubby now carries two pairs of cutters, and almost a surgical suite of tools in the tacklebox.... (just in case)
and I'm not too sure he doesn't have a mirror stashed away in there too.

So... when you hear that old saying....
The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of work....
You might want to remember this story, and smile.

Copyright 1999-2001
Janet Nix

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