Writer's Monthly Tips!
Subscribe!
Beach Seining, Propellers, and the Beach Cleanup
This photo shows the lumber and already chipped lumber the NPS is already stockpiling at the 15 mile marker.
Been a long time since I shared an old-fashioned adventure story with y'all and since this one is among my all-time favorites it'd be a shame not to share it with you before I croak.
I am a natural born adrenalin addict and have lived my life more on the fringes of society than ever being a part of it. I've done almost every type of work a man can do in coastal Texas to be on the water and not punch a time clock.
In 1978 I decided to try my hand at beach seining. Didn't know anything about it but it was the beach and the surf and fish; I'd figure the rest of it out as I went. I bought 1,680 feet of 4.5 inch webbing 6 foot deep, and hand-tied the float and lead lines myself. I bought a 10 foot inflatable boat and a trailer to haul it all on.
Found me a scarred up ol' scooter tramp from Phoenix and talked him into working the seine with me on shares. Ron had done several tours in Vietnam with an Army Recon outfit and was as bad in need of an adrenalin fix as I was.
Learning how to place the net functionally took some trial and error but we figured it out. We'd back up to the surf, unhook the trailer, tie one end of the net to the back of the truck and put the inflatable loaded with the net in the water. The net was in folds; I swam backwards using swim fins and pulling the boat. Ron hung off the stern, pushing and keeping the net from hanging up as it paid out. We swam offshore at an angle into the current which helped keep the net billowed out nicely behind us.
When we had almost half the net out, we started turning gradually back toward the beach. We normally worked to the outside of the second gut. Upon reaching shore we pulled it all in by hand.
Our fingers would turn red and burn like fire, cramping like claws. We'd have to stop and stand on the net while we worked our fingers open and got the circulation flowing. Our catch consisted mostly of black drum although we'd hit an occasional lick on pompano or trout.
Then July came and our catches dwindled. The solution was as obvious as it was insane. If it was too hot for the surf fish during the day then we needed to start running the seine at night.
I've done a lot of really interesting work in my life but I've never done anything that tested the mettle of a man like swimming that net in the open sea at night. On calm nights we could see the dorsal fins of large sharks coming toward us and on several occasions I have actually heard the swish of their fins cutting the water. I remember the overwhelming exhilaration that followed when they went on by and left us unscathed.
It was as if we were cheating death itself and glorying in it. As time went on the experience began to have a narcotic effect on me and I impatiently waited through the days and I lived to walk out into the sea at night to feel her warm caress as all fear went away. I was no longer a land dweller, only another sea creature, moving in the darkness. The shark encounters increased and finally Ron had enough and drug up on me.
I was in the final stages of a failing marriage, nearing divorce. My wife had wanted to swim the seine with Ron and me for months. So when Ron quit I told her if she wanted to swim the net, now was the time. She was a Carolina female who didn't back down from much and she agreed.
About 11:00pm on a clear, full moon night, we were on the back side of the second gut laying out the seine. It was calm and the surface looked like a sheet of mercury when I saw this huge dorsal fin coming up behind her. The fin was so large I knew it was a greater hammerhead of 12 feet or more.
She saw my fixed stare and turned to look. There was a splash and a "bloop" and she disappeared. I pulled myself onto the inflatable to keep from being hit next. Nothing else I could do. Heck, it was her idea, and would save me the hassle of a divorce.
Then her head popped back up. She caught her breath and said, "My God, did you see that hammerhead?"
I calmly said, "Sure, how come it didn't eat you?"
"You wish it did is what you mean," she replied. "When I saw it right on top of me I threw my legs forward and floated up against the bottom of the boat and it couldn't find me."
I always admired her quick thinking and level headedness that night and when the judge gave her 50% I kinda' figured she had earned it.
What a grand memory. As I write this I can see it all in my mind. I can taste the salt, hear the swish of the fins, and feel the quickened beating of my heart. There's always going to be good times and hard times, just make sure you take time out to make some memories. You'll have them long after everything else is gone.
Winter's low tides make us wary when navigating local bays, but I didn't get that far. I dinged my propeller on the bottom at a public boat ramp that was never designed with such low water levels in mind. Took it over to Cris Ortis at Coastal Propeller and Services knowing it would come back in tip-top shape. It occurred to me it is a service to local readers to let them know we have a high-quality prop shop in Corpus Christi. Cris has been making custom props for 24 years and learned from his dad, Roy, who has been at it since 1958. They are a pleasure to do business with and go the extra mile to insure you have the prop that will give you maximum performance from your boat and motor. Call Cris at 361-888-8036.
Hope to see y'all at the Big Shell Beach Cleanup on Saturday March 14. Meet at the Malaquite pavilion by 7:00 am. Needs are working volunteers, 4WD trucks and trailers. NPS personnel will be working hand in hand with volunteers this year. We will be stockpiling all trash at the 15-mile beach and hauling it to the landfill after the event.
NPS personnel and I will continue the effort on Sunday March 15. Any and all who wish to join for Saturday and/or Sunday are welcome to do so. Anyone wishing to make financial contributions to help rent equipment can do so by sending donations to Friends of Padre, Inc. P.O. Box 1420 Round Rock TX. 78680.
Sandifer's rule on beach litter: If we don't leave any there won't be any.
I am a natural born adrenalin addict and have lived my life more on the fringes of society than ever being a part of it. I've done almost every type of work a man can do in coastal Texas to be on the water and not punch a time clock.
In 1978 I decided to try my hand at beach seining. Didn't know anything about it but it was the beach and the surf and fish; I'd figure the rest of it out as I went. I bought 1,680 feet of 4.5 inch webbing 6 foot deep, and hand-tied the float and lead lines myself. I bought a 10 foot inflatable boat and a trailer to haul it all on.
Found me a scarred up ol' scooter tramp from Phoenix and talked him into working the seine with me on shares. Ron had done several tours in Vietnam with an Army Recon outfit and was as bad in need of an adrenalin fix as I was.
Learning how to place the net functionally took some trial and error but we figured it out. We'd back up to the surf, unhook the trailer, tie one end of the net to the back of the truck and put the inflatable loaded with the net in the water. The net was in folds; I swam backwards using swim fins and pulling the boat. Ron hung off the stern, pushing and keeping the net from hanging up as it paid out. We swam offshore at an angle into the current which helped keep the net billowed out nicely behind us.
When we had almost half the net out, we started turning gradually back toward the beach. We normally worked to the outside of the second gut. Upon reaching shore we pulled it all in by hand.
Our fingers would turn red and burn like fire, cramping like claws. We'd have to stop and stand on the net while we worked our fingers open and got the circulation flowing. Our catch consisted mostly of black drum although we'd hit an occasional lick on pompano or trout.
Then July came and our catches dwindled. The solution was as obvious as it was insane. If it was too hot for the surf fish during the day then we needed to start running the seine at night.
I've done a lot of really interesting work in my life but I've never done anything that tested the mettle of a man like swimming that net in the open sea at night. On calm nights we could see the dorsal fins of large sharks coming toward us and on several occasions I have actually heard the swish of their fins cutting the water. I remember the overwhelming exhilaration that followed when they went on by and left us unscathed.
It was as if we were cheating death itself and glorying in it. As time went on the experience began to have a narcotic effect on me and I impatiently waited through the days and I lived to walk out into the sea at night to feel her warm caress as all fear went away. I was no longer a land dweller, only another sea creature, moving in the darkness. The shark encounters increased and finally Ron had enough and drug up on me.
I was in the final stages of a failing marriage, nearing divorce. My wife had wanted to swim the seine with Ron and me for months. So when Ron quit I told her if she wanted to swim the net, now was the time. She was a Carolina female who didn't back down from much and she agreed.
About 11:00pm on a clear, full moon night, we were on the back side of the second gut laying out the seine. It was calm and the surface looked like a sheet of mercury when I saw this huge dorsal fin coming up behind her. The fin was so large I knew it was a greater hammerhead of 12 feet or more.
She saw my fixed stare and turned to look. There was a splash and a "bloop" and she disappeared. I pulled myself onto the inflatable to keep from being hit next. Nothing else I could do. Heck, it was her idea, and would save me the hassle of a divorce.
Then her head popped back up. She caught her breath and said, "My God, did you see that hammerhead?"
I calmly said, "Sure, how come it didn't eat you?"
"You wish it did is what you mean," she replied. "When I saw it right on top of me I threw my legs forward and floated up against the bottom of the boat and it couldn't find me."
I always admired her quick thinking and level headedness that night and when the judge gave her 50% I kinda' figured she had earned it.
What a grand memory. As I write this I can see it all in my mind. I can taste the salt, hear the swish of the fins, and feel the quickened beating of my heart. There's always going to be good times and hard times, just make sure you take time out to make some memories. You'll have them long after everything else is gone.
Winter's low tides make us wary when navigating local bays, but I didn't get that far. I dinged my propeller on the bottom at a public boat ramp that was never designed with such low water levels in mind. Took it over to Cris Ortis at Coastal Propeller and Services knowing it would come back in tip-top shape. It occurred to me it is a service to local readers to let them know we have a high-quality prop shop in Corpus Christi. Cris has been making custom props for 24 years and learned from his dad, Roy, who has been at it since 1958. They are a pleasure to do business with and go the extra mile to insure you have the prop that will give you maximum performance from your boat and motor. Call Cris at 361-888-8036.
Hope to see y'all at the Big Shell Beach Cleanup on Saturday March 14. Meet at the Malaquite pavilion by 7:00 am. Needs are working volunteers, 4WD trucks and trailers. NPS personnel will be working hand in hand with volunteers this year. We will be stockpiling all trash at the 15-mile beach and hauling it to the landfill after the event.
NPS personnel and I will continue the effort on Sunday March 15. Any and all who wish to join for Saturday and/or Sunday are welcome to do so. Anyone wishing to make financial contributions to help rent equipment can do so by sending donations to Friends of Padre, Inc. P.O. Box 1420 Round Rock TX. 78680.
Sandifer's rule on beach litter: If we don't leave any there won't be any.