A Brand Spankin' New Boat

A Brand Spankin’ New Boat

 

 

 

            While on my first deployment to Iraq I found a wonderful thing that I never really knew existed. Buying fishing equipment on the internet! A good friend of mine helped me set up an email account (I had only had a cell phone for a month before I deployed) and poked fun at me for not knowing how to use the internet. “You can look at anything on here. Just type something on that search bar.” I typed in ‘fishing poles.’ I was blown away. There was way more fishing poles online then I would ever find at Wal-Mart! It was amazing! That is when I found Bass Pro Shops online and any thought of saving money while deployed went out the window. Every pay check went towards new fishing poles, reels, lures, hats, whatever I could find, I bought it. Even though I knew that I would not see this stuff for at least another six months, I didn’t care. I was buying all the things I ever wanted. Then I went all out. I bought a boat.

            I know my mother was not pleased with my spending; she was the one handling my bills back home. Which, come to think of it, if my mom can improve my credit even though I was spending money on fishing gear and boats then they should hire her to get the government through this fiscal cliff thing. Anyway, I called home right before I got to leave Iraq on two weeks R&R, and told her I had bought me a boat and I could pick it up in St. Louis when I got home. She said Woohoo but I could hear the undertones in her voice that was saying, ‘Boy, if you were home I would slap you upside the head.’ Dad was excited anyway.

            My brother and I were the first to use this magical craft. Both of us were as giddy as a boy with his first red wagon. We chose to hit Wappapello for our first of many fishing adventures in my new Bass Tracker 175 because I would be able to use the big motor and get to really open her up. After launching the boat, parking the truck, and now sitting idle in the water we did some quick checks.

Fishin’ poles? Check.

Tackle boxes? Check.

Cooler? Uh…well we have the cooler but forgot to get anything to put in it. OK, check.

Life vest? Check.

We are ready.

I should note that at this time, I had never driven a boat. I had seen plenty of fishing shows and I had seen that the driver had slammed down the throttle and went skimming down the water like Wile E. Coyote on an Acme rocket. So that is what I did, we put our hats on backwards because that is what you do in a boat, and slammed down the accelerator. The boat roared to life with the nose pointed straight at the sky, water rushing in behind us in the boat, nearly sinking us, and we shot down the river. Both of us let out or own rebel yells as we tore thru the No Wake zone ( I didn’t know what that meant at the time and was the only time I broke that law) cheering and hollering with our nose standing straight up like we were popping wheelies on the water until my brother yelled, “Man this is awesome! I can’t even see where we are going!” I started laughing and yelled back, “Me either!” and kept laughing as shock fell on my brothers face. Apparently it was awesome if he couldn’t see but not if the driver couldn’t. We stopped the boat and played with the trim until I got the boat to run like it was supposed to down the river. We played for nearly two hours before we realized that time was slipping away from us and we were losing precious fishing time. That is about the time my brother also remembered he was supposed to be at work.

            He pulled out his cell phone and told me to be quiet he was going to call in sick. I told him ok as jet boats tore across the water around us and pitched a Texas rigged rubber worm along some brush.
“Serious. Be quiet for a second.” I smiled and said ok.

“Hey, yeah it’s Steve. Yeah, I ain’t feeling too good.” He paused for a second. I got a strike, a good strike. “Yeah, I think it is that stomach bug going around.” The bucket mouth struck again. I set the hook. I had him. “FISH ON!! IT’S A BIGGIN’!” I screamed. “GET THE NET STEVE!” He did not find this funny and said he would be at work the next day and got off the phone. Somehow the fish that I thought was on the other end of my line vanished but I hoped to get a shot at him again. Maybe when Steve called back to see if he still had a job the bass would hit again.

            Besides the big one that got away, we didn’t get anymore bites where we were at and decided to troll to the other side of the cove we were on. “Hey! Look at that big cotton mouth” Steve said. It was a big one. The problem with being brothers is a lot of times we do things that are not too smart. This was one of those times. I started laughing and trolled the boat alongside this 20 foot cotton mouth. (I am not exaggerating the size of this snake. We think that it was part boa constrictor or python or something) I don’t remember which one of us struck first but we began flogging this snake with paddles trying to rid the world of such a nasty evil creature but the snake launched a counter attack, trying to climb into our boat and striking wildly. Us being the brave men we were screamed like terrified five year old girls when the playground bully shoves a worm in their face. We then began to beat the sides of my new boat with whatever we could get our hands on trying to fight off the cotton constrictor. Finally the snake gave up on his attacks because he was well over matched by our abilities to defend our vessel and headed back into the cove…straight for a pontoon boat full of girls in bikinis and buff dudes swimming. They had been watching us, laughing at the two idiots in overalls and their hats on backwards fighting a snake in open water. They were not laughing now thou, our angry python had noticed the weak target and was making a beeline for their position.

            That was about the time we decided we had had enough fun for the day and made our way back to the boat ramp to load our chariot. That was in 2006 and I still have that boat. It has been a good rig for me, my dad and brother and am sure we are going to have plenty of more stories that revolve around it. I just hope it is the only one that involves a 20 foot cotton mouthed boa constrictor.