Hazen Culley:
CLASS OF 1962
Mainland High SchoolClass of 1962
Daytona beach, FL
Hazen's Story
FISHING AT IT'S WORST OR BEST BUT STILL A BLAST
Yesterday was a most enjoyable day fishing or perhaps the worst, depending on
your viewpoint.
I decided about 2:PM to head out on the portage canal and see if I could knock
down a few more smallmouth bass. It was comfortable in the low 70's, slightly
overcast but a strong wind out of the SE.
After fishing for about an hour I got on the leeside of a point out of the
worse wind. Using a spinning rod with a top water Rapala I was casting towards
the shore and slow retrieving it back to the boat. I was near a dock that had
a picnic tent with a nylon top. When I casted along the side of the dock to
entice Mr. Bass out from under the wind caught the lure and blew it up on top
of the canopy and it hung there. I maneuvered the boat to the dock and with
one foot on the dock the other on the boat I reached up to retrieve the lure
only to have a barb of the treble hook securely snag my left ring finger. The
top was about 6' feet high so I could not see the lure. I tried to unhooked my
finger only to find the more I tried the worse it got. The wind was catching
the boat trying to blow it back to open water. Alas,all I could figure to do
was bite down hard and yank my hand away from the lure. The finger came loose
leave what felt like a pound of flesh still hung on the hook. Needless to say
it hurt like a SOB. The drugs I am on must have a blood thinner effect and
the finger tip was bleeding like a stuck pig. Blood was dripping down my hand
on to the deck, on my pants, and made the rod handle slippery. But being the
Sportsman I am I continued my quest of Mr. Smallmouth.
As 7:30 PM was approaching I motored back to a bank which I had previously had
a good day, and having snared only one nice sized bass in the process. I hung
another larger smallmouth giving me two for the day. Any normal person would
say hey, good day and head for the landing. But NO, the best is yet to come.
The wind had picked up more and the temperature had dropped to the low 60s as
the sun was starting to drop farther in the sky. It doesn't get dark here in
the UP (Upper Penn. Michigan) until 10:30 PM...Expand for more
, but the shadows were becoming longer.
As I worked up the bank and the wind caught my lure and it sailed into and
over hanging branch. The golfers playing in the British Open only thought they
had a hard time with the wind. The tree securely snagged the lure and would
not give it up. The only thing I could do was use the trolling motor to move
to the bank and retrieve the lure by cranking the lure to the very tip of the
rod and shaking it violently, the rod tip, until it came free. Which it did.
All this being said, the wind was blowing the boat towards the shore. I
figured I had only one way to get the boat back to deeper water where I could
use the trolling motor without tearing it up was to stand on the rocks on the
shoreline, and shove the boat back from the shore and jump in. I need to say
at this point, I had pulled the trolling motor back into its frame, but
unknowingly it had not locked. It was my intent to use the trolling motor
shaft to use as a handhold to hoist my ample frame back into the boat.
Here's where it gets good. I gave the boat a mighty shove, grabbed the
trolling motor shaft, only to have it disengage from it's mounting bracket and
come towards me to it's down position. Not expecting this to happen I lost my
balance, fell backwards into 3 feet of water and I was now completely
submerged. As I looked up from my watery vantage point I could see my hat
floating of with the tide and the boat following closely behind. The harder I
tried to stand up the slippery the underwater rocks seem to get. Do you start
to see a conspiracy among the fishing and water gods against me. I started to
pray saying that if the gods would extract me from my predicament I would
never again keep an undersize fish, regardless how hungry I was.
I finally caught up to the boat and grabbed my hat. As one last injustice, as
I hauled my thoroughly soaked carcass back on board I bent the handle of my
favorite reel.
But hey! I filleted two nice bass and they are in my freezer awaiting frying
with a nice pot of cheese grits.
The best part of the trip was a hot shower and the subsidence of Janie's
laughter.
Hazen
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