Slow Fishing But We Managed a Few...

The American White Pelican nests as far north as Alaska and the Northwest Territories of Canada. Some go south in winter to Costa Rico like my friend U.S. Tico but a big bunch of them can usually be found on the lakes of East Texas through the winter. They eat about four pounds of fish a day and I usually see them moving and feeding on deep open waters for shad and minnows. Yesterday we spotted this group of birds and laid up in the warm sun on a little nub of an exposed sandbar instead of fishing and it proved what we found out. The fish were not biting, at least not at that moment in time.     

Our old friend Jongy was with us on this trip. He's going to catch one sooner or later if we keep taking him out because he did get a bite but his luck is not much worse than Cathy's total of one fish. The last trip Cathy invited people to the fish fry before we left for the lake and like most people who work well under pressure was able to back all that up with some fat blue cats landed in the boat. No pressure on this trip she claimed.  

Matt took the most fish this time out. We caught zero fishing deep which was where they had been last trip and found the catfish about 4' deep under slip corks. The lake was up after the rain but there are reports that it will go down again. There's work being done on the dam rip rap. When flows on the Neches River slow going into B.A. Steinhagen Lake the water from Sam Rayburn Lake which goes down the Angelina River to join the Neches out of Rayburn will be released for the work to continue.   

Note in these photos that after all the rain water color is about like how I like my coffee. 

I took big fish honors. Two big fillets off this fish worth $8 a pound. The smallest 8 fish probably worth $40 at the grocery headed, skint and sold bone in. 

Despite the slow action the total was 11 fish and they were decent size. That's 56 fish for the month of January. Things will probably slow in February because of non fishing plans but March is a solid slip cork meat in the boat month. 

 

Preserve the Voice...

Cathy used to now and then catch me off guard with the question, "and how many guitars do you have?" I'm sure she means to include in that count anything which has one to eight strings though some may question the merits of a turtle string with an axe handle affixed as a guitar. Of course when asking this question she does make it known that she has one guitar which certainly serves her well but over the years I think she has softened a bit as I have proven that for my creative purposes all those stringed instruments do something different and it's something I usually make good use of eventually. I guess I should count myself fortunate that there have been no challenges to the two tubas, the baritone, the tenor horn or the trombone. Most of those I don't play as well as I do the turtle shell with the axe handle affixed but I did mention good use, eventually. 

Some instruments I have bought because it's what I wanted, some like a stray cat have found me, some were rescued from junk no one wanted and of course there are ones I have made. Whatever the case I do like to get the instrument's voice on video or audio for the record so to speak even if it's a weird thing buried in a thick sonic mix that some nerd will use an AI program to isolate long after I'm gone just like they did to find out what television show John Lennon was watching while he wrote songs and recorded them on cassette while sitting at his kitchen table.

Most people know my cigar box guitars and other primitive instruments I've made and I'm sure a few readers own one. I could never sell this Elvis Christmas Tin guitar. I thought Elvis, people love him but like the two tubas, the baritone, the tenor horn and the trombone I have often misjudged what's going to be the next big thing in the music business. The Elvis Tin never sold. It was more kind of an art piece because the long box of the body kind of threw the scale off so it did not play as well as most of my inventions. 

Luckily in Nacogdoches there is a place, an old church turned into a listening room where local artists have their art hanging and fortunately for me they love Elvis and I donated the guitar to the residents and owners of The Love Oak Listening Room, Jerry and Patty. Jerry strikes a mean pose and the guitar fits the décor.   

Of course I recorded it to preserve the voice. Maybe a little more Arthur Big Boy Crudup than Elvis but as they say, that's alright. 

Oh yeah, never trust a man with out a guitar, a trombone, a turtle shell or two tubas in his house. Let the voice be heard. 

 

    

  

Catfish Holding Deep after the Rain...

I heard Cathy on the phone a couple of times before we headed to the lake, "yes, headed to the lake, fish fry tonight." This is before the boat was even hooked up. The only way you can guarantee worse luck on a fishing trip is to pump the live well full of water before you make the first cast. Fortunately Cathy brought her game as things cooled off for me and Matt had a good day as grandkids Coraline and Warren took winter break from school to join us.  

Me and Matt had a slow start on the last trip out and were under the gun for a promised fish fry. We finally found the fish shallow that day and caught mostly fat blue cat. This trip we started in the shallows but in the past week there as been low temps of 13 degrees and after that 7" to 10" of rain fell around the area. Shallow water was up and runoff had stained it and we caught nothing in am area that had been holding cats 5' deep. We moved out deep and when a couple of reliable spots fail to produce we again found fat blue cat holding right on the rive channel 32' deep.    

As our guest sometimes find out a catfish bite can be light and takes some finesse to recognize and without practice the kids had trouble hooking a fish. I only did marginally better. They did serve as net and reel up helpers for old grandma.  

Ok, you get to eat. 

Blue cats definitely on the prowl. We had at least 10 fat ones, maybe not as big as the last trip but they were enough to feed all these fishermen, the Zamora clan, and take a bag of fillets to my mother in law Geneva today. 

Boat lunch was summer sausage, sardines, smoked oysters, cheese and homemade cookies. 

Pretty much all that was required of me was to drive the boat to the lake and back the trailer up. Yeah I did fry fish but I think there's enough room for everyone to do the part they like.  

 That's 22 fish and about 10 fat blue cats. A quick internet check has HEB selling farm raised catfish $4.41 for a half pound fillet or $8.81 a pound. I did not weight the fillets which most were big enough that I cut into long finger strips for cooking. I did fry one small whole cat and a few crispy backs for grandma and Coraline to knaw. I say $46 to $65 worth of fresh fish here. We are on track for a 400-500 catfish year. 

My Lures Don't Cost Enough and it's Hurting the Economy...

The other day I fished a local pond that had been stocked by Texas Parks and Wildlife with put and take hatchery rainbow trout. I did not catch any but I have great memories of benefiting from this program while I fished with my dad, my kids and now I'm making memories of fishing for trout with my grandkids. 

Par the course there were quite a few fishermen lining the banks of the pond and I could not help but notice one young man, all done up in camo like a true outdoorsman as he walked around the bank from us, unlimbered his rod and reared back for mighty cast only to hang his lure in an overhead tree, never reaching the water. I don't know what kind of lure he was using but I thought about all the times I had stood in a fishing store and carefully picked out a bait probably more designed to catch the fisherman than the fish using the consideration of all the knowledge of wind, tide, weather and water in my possession only to hang the careful purchase on the first cast and lose it. As they say about fishing, "tie any knot you want. It's going to break."      

I reflect on this because of two things. One, a New York Times article that says by all signs the economy is not bad, "but many Americians are not feeling it." The other thing is a website selling fishing lures, some of which cost $260 including one lure that is promoted as "showing up like a searchlight on forward facing sonar." It does mention this lure is not for everyone and checking the prices of FFS you will need to spend close to $7000 to be able to use this to it's best effectiveness. I judge that Americans buying these products do not feel bad about the economy.

Now I know that modern fishing lines, unlike the old cheap monofilament my dad bought are practically unbreakable but still I think throwing a $260 fishing lure out into what might be a watery grave would make me have about the same feeling that I would have if I paid that money to a Nigerian Prince to unlock the bank account containing my inheritance. 

Like old cheap mono line the economy is breakable. It can be broken by greedy men who want more which is the reason I suspect someone might buy a 4260 fishing lure. 

I don't know what kind of lure the young man hung in the tree. I'd guess a cheap one. That's all you need in a park pond. I was using a hook, a weight and a piece of canned corn and as I say times were bad. I did not catch anything but as I remembered those old trout trips through the years it was ok.  

            

 

There's Treasure in Them Thar Hills and Also on the Lake Bottom...

I had spent a real nice day in Houston visiting old friends, telling lots of stories, touring a museum, looking art and having a meal at a funky restaurant. With real life stimulation I had kept my phone in my pocket with the sound turned down all day and with all this fun I had avoided piddling away in the electronic way. On the way home I checked for messages, notifications and such. I rarely get calls and texts but of course with this day of avoidance my phone was blown up with calls and texts. Seems that a wallet I dropped in the lake back in 2018 had been found.     

I remember the day well and it is documented at this link. We had a good fishing trip, launching at Shirly Creek Marina but on my return home I did not have my wallet. I searched the boat, the truck, the house, drove back to the boat ramp and never found it. The credit cards were never used so that seemed to indicate lost and not stolen and I went on assembling my documentation back in order. 

A man hunting arrowheads exposed by wave action along  the 7 foot below lake pool shore found my wallet at the edge of the water, posted a photo on the Sam Rayburn Fishing Report Facebook Page and from there people that knew me, Ray in particular saw it and someone even screen shot the post to my son Morgan in Nacogdoches and they all contacted me. The man Brent, contacted me by phone, we set up a meeting and he brought the wallet to my house. Of course every thing in there was canceled or expired and I can't remember any money I had that day. The bills rotted into a unidentifiable mess. Brent, a very nice man refused any reward.  

I remember that wallet. I think I bought it in Chicago at one of those fancy art shops where the craftsman gets all the profit from the items they made. This wallet was of recycled materials and had a bit of an East Asian motif going on. It held up well during it's submersion. I think a run through the washing machine and it's good to go again.    

There's all kind of stuff here. DL, my professional license, insurance and credit cards, boat registrations, CTA pass, CPR card and something called a Jazzy Pass which must have been for mass transit in some exciting city I visited that was not Cleveland. 

As I mentioned the lake being 7' low was the reason it was found and on the day I lost it we had launched at Shirley Creek which the only reason I would have launched there is because the lake was too high and my usual launch spot was closed. I often fish here so no doubt I have been right over this wallet many times since 2018.

Back in 2008 we had another wallet loss when my father in law, the late Bill Cooney or Pop as we called him let his overalls, which he had taken off to swim (swim suit underneath) blew out of the boat and sank before we could turn around and fetch them.  He lost keys to car, the camper which was in the park at Hanks, phone, wallet, pocket knife and everything. Here's a link to that blog post. The credit card company declined to cancel the cards since they were reported sank and one year later some one used the card for gas in Zavalla, Tx.

That's an interesting blog link because not only is there the overall story but it has the Pop jumping off the boat photo and a photo of Mary and Miguel as children.

All this caused my daughter Katie to reflect that there might be all kind of treasure on the lake bottom. I think were are going to need a bigger boat. Maybe some magnet fishing?  

Thanks again to Brent for being a nice guy! 

 

 

A Visit With Old Friends...

 We spend a great day yesterday in Houston with friends Scott and Ellen. We had a lunch line real Cajun meal at a little café and spent the afternoon looking around the Menil Collection. Scott and Ellen recently retired to Santa Fe and built a house with a view and this was our first visit with them since then. 

Cathy thinks she met Scott and Ellen around 1977 when they were neighbors living on South Pecan in Nacogdoches.. Scott and Ellen moved out to the area near Lake Tonkawa when it was still a place hippies snuck into so they could swim naked and advised Cathy of a cheap house she could rent next-door. I can place my meeting of Scott and Ellen at the old Press Road House probably no later than 1980ish but maybe earlier.

Of course all this is in the hazy past with lots of water over the falls since then so I welcome any and all corrections to this possible timeline in the name of accuracy and protection of the innocent. 

As I say the visit was great. Plans are laid for a travel trailer trip to Santa Fe this summer. Go see your oldest friends. There's no one else like them. 

And just for the record I'm not saying anyone swam naked in Tonkawa or anything like that but again I welcome any corrections to the record and the memories.       

The Wallace Christmas Gathering or is it Over Yet?...

I think someone told me the other day, "Christmas, it's over, it's just over." Well I guess they have never played in a band called Drum and Tuba Christmas or they never tried to herd all these cats, cool cats that is to get them under one roof to have a Christmas, a late winter gathering or some other such event. Success was only medium as the Texas kids, in-laws and grandkids made it ahead of the winter weather but for the Tulloch family they got stuck in Chicago because Southwest Airlines canceled all flights.   

Santa came anyway. the Tullochs will come at a less icy time or get theirs shipped, all that's beyond my paygrade but if they want a scary man Santa I will make one.  

We had a big Saturday night dinner at the new Napoli's in Lufkin in the basement of the old Perry building. Spaghetti and pizza pleased all appetites although I know some people's spaghetti has been critiqued "not as good as grandma's.    

Firepits, plenty of firewood and propane fishcookers made for a good warm porch as the temps were not too bad ahead of the front but today I am happy to play inside in front of an indoor fire.   

Katie was supposed to come and practice her fish frying skills to keep sharp. With their trip canceled I passed the torch on frying fish to the handiest people. Morgan and Cullen picked it up while I made the broiled fish and crème sauce served over noodles and egg plant.   

A plate of fried fish with my new mustard dressing and the broiled fish. There was some discussion of bottling and selling the cream sauce but I aint working anymore unless it involves a tuba. 

Everyone liked their Christmas gifts and some played to hard they got hot and took off clothes. 

Warren and Mary split firewood and Ezra and Parker raked leaves. I wish I would have had them mound it up to keep the wind out from under the trailer. 

A good time, which can be hard to have with such a large group was truly had by all.  

 

First Fishing Trip of the Year and the 10 year Log...

It started out a tough day on the lake this past Thursday. A little windy, from the West, not dangerously so but brother in law Matt and I stayed up to the north rather than head south to bigger waters. It was where we had the best bite last time out but it was slow going. It might have been because we felt a little under the gun since my daughter Katie was planning on coming from Chicago this weekend and wanted to practice her fish frying skills and we needed fish bad. 

Nothing is so inspirational as being in a bind like this and our deep water holes along the old river channel were just not giving up the fish. We were working a few out and by keeping everything were slowly building a meal. Then we decided to give the shallows a try and sure enough the fat blue cat and big channels were feeding up before the polar vortex that's expected in a few days.   

Last hour of the day was the magic hour as we found the cats about 5' deep under slip corks in the inlet we call "Old Ginormus Cove" in honor of the biggest catfish we ever caught which weighed 32 pounds there.   

Matt with a nice blue. 

This bird, a limpkin shuffled in the shallows all the while we fished the area and paid us no mind. I have seen a bunch of these lately, on the lake at at the Big Slough Wilderness Area also. They are mussel eaters. So are blue cats. I've gathered the freshwater mussels during times of low water like this, shelled them and baited trot lines for good catches of catfish.   

All those bass fishermen pay big money live scope these days. He has it built in 

Look over my shoulder to the right and see the hump and the dark spot in the woods. That's the spot Cathy calls "the horseshoe" because of the shape the trees make as they follow the edge of the water when the lake is up. Usually a good 5' deep against those trees Cathy has pulled 10 pounders out of there. Check the left of the photo at the log horizontal close to the bank. 

I think that log is the same one where I photographed these nutria rats  sometime about 25 to 30 years ago during another period of low water. It has about rotted away and only shows it's self about every 10 years when we have a good drought. Comparing the photos Mother Nature has made some other changes to the area but the fish still follow these old creek channels looking for their supper which feed out to the deeper nearby submerged Angelina River channel. 

I originally had that nutria rat picture on an early internet photo hosting site where one day I noticed it had something like 9000 views. Go figure. I think I also have hard copies of other photos from this day of the rats up close that I may have to dig out and scan.  

Another good blue. You can see the nutria log laying horizontal on your right. That's an osprey nest on the left behind me.  

Final total was 23 good fish. I culled some of the first small ones we kept throwing back at least 5 fish. Katie, Peter and kids got snowed in with all flights out of Chicago canceled due to blizzard. I saved about 6 big fillets for broiled catfish and cream sauce and bagged a big ziplock of frying pieces. 

Good work under pressure if you can get it. The catfish count is off to a good start but I'm tucking it in for a few days. 

 

When You Should Pick Up the Guitar But Don't....

 My resonator guitar was leaning on a stand in it's spot in the living room. Cathy's guitar also has a spot in the living room on a stand. The idea is that when creativity strikes instruments are handy and you grab one up and create. It's not always that smooth a process because I played a gig in October using this guitar and had not picked it up since. I played other guitars plenty. I played electric guitar in my room, bass guitar at church for services, a couple of funerals and weddings and of course tuba for a civic band concert, and several Drum and Tuba Christmas gigs. Yesterday I picked the resonator from it's stand, removed the stick on pickup and cord I use when needing to electrify it and said to myself, "self, you need to play something on this." I didn't and then that night I had this dream. 

In the dream I rode a bicycle on an East Texas farm road or isolated state highway shaded by tall pines. I turned on a dirt driveway and went through a cattle pasture gate and followed a rutted track to a small white frame house. I was expecting a party but there were no cars signaling the presence of people and I wondered where everyone was. I entered the house to find a room full of people sleeping on mattresses on the floor. Men and women slept together and some people slept on singles by themselves. I thought to leave but they invited me in and everyone rose from bed. They were all hippies, men with beards and shaggy hair, barefoot women with waist length straight hair, long dresses and plain cotton tops. 

As they got around neighbors, men, women and children from a house next door walked across an open field to join us. On a small rise of ground my late friend Gary, a bandana around his head sat playing his drums. As I think about it there may have been other deceased friends in the dream, all gone about the time cell phones began their rise to prominence and before Standley cups were such a thing.   

Here's Gary at the drums.       

In the living room of the old house people began setting up to play music. I expected Gary to bring in the drums but some other guy brought in a child sized set and put it up in a corner. While people were deciding who would stand where I sat down on my amp which had magically appeared but I did not have a guitar. I thought if I leave now on the bicycle I can go get my guitar and return by automobile but if I stay for the jam I'll be riding the bike home in the dark. 

This situation never concluded because I woke up to a windy storm. The power was out. I could hear high gusts of wind dancing the chimes on the porch. Those chimes are tuned to an E Major chord which is the very heart of rock and roll. Mother Nature played random never to be repeated arpeggios with the notes on the chimes and I though I heard snippets of "Rumble," "Smokestack Lightening," and "That's All Right Mama." Rain spattered across the metal roof of my house saying, "Wake Up Little Susie!" Get that guitar off the stand!  

  

Boats and Blessings...

Everyday is something and that's what keeps me busy. Today is the blessing of the chalk. It's an Epiphany Tradition, more well known in Europe where I made this photo on a visit in 2016 than in the U.S.A. The C, M, and B stand for the three Kings, always one of my favorite stories so you have old Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar, the plus is the cross and usually you have numbers representing the year before and after the letters. It's a witness of faith and a protection from evil for your home and you can't just write it up there in sharpie because the chalk represents that old dust to dust thing. You know 9 to the universe and that day you look forward to where you don't have to think about finding a sharpie when you need it because that's an irritating thing that also sometimes keeps me busy.  

One time I had a priest friend out to the house. It's been a long time ago. Probably we had dinner but I don't remember what was on the menu and I certainty don't remember any topics of conversation from the evening but as we began our goodbyes and all trooped to the door he said, "I should bless your house," and produced a bottle of Holy Water, began a Sprinkling Rite with blessing and our exit turned into a little procession on into the garage. 

In the garage was where we kept our old pontoon boat in those days. It was a bit smaller than the current pontoon boat and we had not yet hit those prime earning years where we could built a detached boat garage so that old boat was always right there in the middle of everything and as out priest led procession wound out the door I noticed drops of Holy Water hitting everything everywhere including the boat. 

Later I told Cathy, "the boat has been blessed. We are really going to catch some fish now." She replied that's not what the blessing was for. "It's to keep your happy ass from falling out of it" she said. 

That blessing worked. I never fell out of the boat. A few other people did but I was always there to pull them back in so I guess the blessing worked for them also. Actually as I think about that old boat and that blessing and how I might not have been very far down the path of spirituality, faith or enlightenment or whatever you want to call it I recall that the priest never asked what it was I was going to do in that house or use that boat for. It was unconditional. It was looking to the future.           

I dug around and could not locate a photo of that old boat. None have been digitalized. I did have a photo of this older boat with me in it and as I think about it I never fell out of it either. I probably should have as at the time I was about 10 feet tall and bullet proof but they say, "the Lord works in mysterious ways." Another priest friend told me once that, "you never know what she's thinking." 

Some years after the blessing of the boat Cathy was passing a boat show and whipped in and traded that old boat on a new one. They accepted the trade in sight unseen but they did ask what condition it was in and I was honest saying, "I have hit every stump in Sam Rayburn lake with that boat." They offered a good price. I forgot to mention it had been blessed. 

What I call the new boat is almost 20 years old. I haven't had it blessed. I haven't fell out of it either. That old boat was mostly aluminum and is probably long scrapped. Hopefully it was recycled into something useful and is still a blessing for others.  

Though we live half a country apart I'm still friends with that priest and I occasionally get a text or social media blessing from him. I'll get some chalk later today at church.   

 

A Walk in the Big Slough Wilderness Area and the Year End Catfish Count...

After Cathy fried up wood duck breast, made gravy and served it over jasmine rice with some left over egg plant casserole on the side it was so good that she gave me permission to duck hunt all that I want to for the rest of the season which ends on Jan. 30th. I did not rise and exactly shine today but I made it over to the Big Slough Wilderness Area about noon or so figuring that there are going to be ducks on the slough somewhere. There were not.    

I did see a couple of deer driving in and once in the woods the owls were quite busy. I took a good long walk for a fat old guy in hip waders down the slough but never heard a wood duck, saw any flying or jumped any up. Previous trips to the slough there had been enouh ducks moving around to make it interesting.  

I did see one hooded merganser duck. His white head stuck out like a sore thumb in the dull brown winter woods.  A good duck if you are looking for a pretty specimen to mount but this duck is a meat eater, dining on small fish and crustaceans and I was able leisurely watch him go about diving duck business while I googled suitability for the table. Reportedly if cleaned quickly, soaked in salt water and cooked rare this duck is "not too terrible for the table." I let him pass.    

I think those deer I saw were someone's pets. I don't know anything about when deer season starts or ends but I do know that sometimes it helps to take a lawyer with you hunting. 

Here's that fried duck. I have people tell me they hate the taste of duck. Try it chicken fried. If it aint fried it aint food. Speaking of food the catfish count for 2023 is tallied and since it's a little low this year we counted bass, bream, rainbow trout, gaspergou and everything. Final count is 202 fish. I did not count skiing and tubing trips or all the canoe trips but it was about 14 pontoon boat or bank fishing trips that produced this catch.  Usually we manage between 300 and 500 but we traveled and camped a bit more dividing our time and I assure you 202 fish fed us very well.   

I think I have one small package of fillets that I plan on using for a courtbullion soup and a few small whole catfish that we will knaw down to the bones for an old school supper one night but the rest of those all got ate. If we do better than this in 2024 that will be very, very good.