Don’t Watch Shark Week Then Go Wade Fishing

Get your stuff. The surfs laid down and theyre hammering big trout.

I begin to stutter a little, h-ha-have you been watching sh-shark week bro? youre out of your mind.

Before I realize whats going on my wife is shooing me out the garage with a I paid the insurance premiums last week, go have fun with your silly friends. Waitwhat?

Next thing I know were on the shallowsport heading out of the basin. Captain hits the gas and I lose my hat. Our grand exit clouded in amateurism. Get my hat and try again. Were off and soon careening out the cut and headed down the shoreline. What the boys are looking for is beyond me. Im searching for fins and putting my stormtrooper-lookin wading booties on. We find a spot (looks like any other spot to me), drop anchor and start letting line out to set us on the second bar.

About that time I notice a smell. my dang wife rubbed yesterdays chicken on my shortsnow the insurance comment makes sense. Thats the last time I let her pack my bags!

One of the boys points out that the cooler musta popped open going thru the pass and lunch (chicken salad) came out and I sat in some that spilled. Great. We lost some lunch. And Im going to get eaten. Least I know my wife isnt trying to exchange me for life insurance dollars. Probably.

Jump off the boat and somehow perfectly time the landing into thigh deep water on the bar. how bout them apples? I didnt drown! nobodys watching. theyre all fishing already.

A gull overhead squawks and I give the wassup nod keep an eye on the water for ole toothy and give a holler to a brother if you see something. He squawks again, flies immediately to shore and gets tangled up in a piece of shrimp net that had washed up. Perfect. My spotter is now useless.

Start my shuffle and almost immediately feel my stringer pull tight and spin me around. In an instant I think jaws has grabbed me and Im going for a ride offshore. Quickly I realize the floatie on the stringer is stuck under a cleat on the boat. And I havent strung any fish. Duh. I must have screamed like a girl cuz now everyone is looking. (of course) straighten my gear and get to fishing. Rapidly Im starting to get hits. Then a hookset. BAM! Im on and hollerin like donkey kong boys! theyre not looking. (figures) probably because pretty much everyone has strung fish already and is either presently hooked up or stringing something. Cuz Im slow like that. Bring in my trophy, double check the length on my rod and string dinner. Nice!

And so it goes for a while. Fairly steady fishing with me and the boys loading up the stringers. Eventually Im kinda on auto pilot. Not because Im so good, but because my ADD is kicking bad and everything distracts me. Birds, mullet, waves, etc till suddenly a fin pokes up and runs a bit on the next gut out. Before my heat soaked brain can process what it is, my stringer pulls tight on me. This causes me to go into a complete panic because Im certain Im standing in the middle of a school of sharks. I turn and run for shore. Forget shuffling, Im sprinting (looks like a moving, waterlogged cross between the robot and a seizure).

I step off the bar into the first gut and fall headfirst into the water, doing my best to hold my rod out of the water. Which means its more of a bellyflop like you see in the redneck games. Im up like a flash (ok, two flashes) and sputtering towards shore arms out wide, soaked and dripping like a seaweed covered swamp thing. Quick pat down and Im intact. Kiss my finger and point to the sky with a big nod, then down on one knee for a quick tebow (thank you baby Jesus). Thats when I hear it. The laughing of the other guys.

One of them is doubled over alternating his finger pointing between me and the small pod of porpoise that came in to terrorize the trout I was on. Seems a wave rolled over perfectly onto my stringer (fish now high and dry on the beach) and pushed the stringer away from me. There was no shark. I sit down and silently sign to my boys theyre #1. The adrenaline has now left me and I feel like the backend of a sugar high. Reach for the water bottle on my belt. Gone. Everything on me is soaked so I cant clean my glasses. The gull stuck in the shrimp net is cackling at me, even the little sand crab that runs up appears to be mocking me.

I suddenly realize I never reeled my line in and theres something tugging. screw you guys, I still catch fish! I holler. Reel in my redemption and hoist it high. A foul hooked hardhead. Sometimes things just go from bad to worse.

Apparently Id been sitting there a while because what comes to check on me? A freaking pack of pelicans. Guess theyd seen my stringer of fish on dry land and thought theyd have a snack. Shoo them away with my rod and a yeeyeeyee! the turtleman would have been proud of. One of the pelicans departing gift was left on my leg. Im utterly grossed out and almost throw up due to the smell. Gagging like the captain does when were at the ranch cleaning gut shot deer (a whole other adventure).

Trudge back to the water and rinse. Repeat. Gag a little. Rinse some more. Go back to the boat to unload my stringer and get a fresh bottle of water. Notice a fish lost his tail to a shark attack in the last 4 minutes. I didnt even know. I quit for the rest of the day. Those losers still hauling in fish can be dessert, Im done.

Came away from the trip with a big sack of filets and a new rule around my house. No shark week. Ever. Cuz at this point, Im not sure I can even get in my swimming pool.