February 7, 2010
Surprise! A Box Of Chocolates
It was early August and the ideal time to set trot-lines for big catfish. With my cousin John, a fifty hook set and 10 dozen large minnows, I headed for the Flint River dam in southwest Georgia.
The water backed up by the dam was as calm as glass, air temperature was in the mid 80’s and the deep blue sky was barely visible through the “cotton like” clouds. All things considered, an absolutely perfect day to load up with “Big Cats”.
Unloading the boat at the ramp, I quickly guided it to the far shore of the basin and tied the marker jug at the end of the line to a tree stump close to the shore.
As John backed the boat, keeping the line taunt, I baited each hook and watched as they vanished into the depths of the darkly stained water.
When all the hooks were baited and the line was tight the marker float, weighted with (2) concrete blocks, was lowered into the water. Now having a little time on our hands, before checking the line, we set out for some much anticipated rod fishing.
After about an hour of fishing, (with only seven, 8” bluegill in the live well) we returned to the main event (the trot-line). Upon reaching the float closest to the shore, John lowered the paddle and, with a swift slicing action deep within the water, located and raised the end of the trot-line.
Pulling the line with a hand over hand action moved the boat with ease along the set. Exposing the first hook, the shiner could be seen flashing and flipping in the murky abyss. Returning it to the darkened depths we moved on to the next couple of hooks which were empty. Re-baiting and returning them to the water, the line pulsed with movement from further down the set.
Moving quickly down the line, the next several hooks produced “Yellow Cats” ranging between 7 and 23 pounds. With over half of the line remaining to be checked we anticipated that this could be one of the best fishing days of our lives.
Dragging the boat along the line, we approached the next hook set. But, pulling with great force, I couldn’t even budge it from its lodging place.
After a short debate, we surmised that a large catfish had tangled our line around a submerged log and (not feeling any movement) possibly freed itself. To free the tight line enough pressure would have to be applied so as to straighten the hook, thus dislodging it from the log.
So, with that in mind, placing one hand on each side of the hook set, with both feet placed firmly on the left gunnel of the boat, John pulled with tremendous force.
The snag seemed to come free of the bottom and then settle heavily back to its original resting place. With the knowledge of having moved this object, he made one final attempt before having to cut the line and move on (a very expensive move).
Mustering every ounce of strength he could find, he resumed his previous position on the boat gunnel, regained his grip and applied massive pressure to free the line.
With his eyes clinched as tightly as his hand on the line, his face reddening with bulging veins and his arms and legs quivering from exertion, he began to lift the obstruction from the bottom.
As the snag neared the water’s surface it offered little resistance to the pressure being applied and rocketed to within a foot or so of Johns face. Having his eyes closed during most of this ordeal, John was totally unaware that what emerged from the water, on the end of the line, was the head of a Snapping Turtle (as big around as my thigh).
In horror, I muttered a few loud explicits causing him to immediately open his eyes. Frozen in that position, (eye to eye with the devil himself) while his eyes focused, the creature made a loud hiss, spraying John’s face with water trapped in its throat.
Startled and yelling, John released his grip, and in an attempt to be clear of this monster, jumped backward clearing the other side of the boat and violently entered water “spread eagle” on his back.
With absolutely no desire to meet with this “Mossy Backed Monster” in its own world, John, in one motion, vaulted himself, returning to the boat’s floor.
Looking much like a drenched rat, sprawled out, he laid there, chest heaving and clothes dripping as he calmed his nerves. Upon regaining his composure, and after a lengthy discussion, it was decided that this “Granddaddy of all Snapping turtles” had to be boated and added to our creel.
The bragging rights alone would be spoken of for years and the soup would taste delicious for some time to come. So we set forth with the task of boating this behemoth.
Stumbling to his position, with the grace of an elephant, John attempted to hoist the treacherous terrapin into the boat. As the monstrous head broke the water’s surface, its sharp “trap like” jaws opened and snapped shut repeatedly in an effort to free itself from the line. In an attempt to assist with landing this prehistoric beast, I took up a position next to John, evidently spooking the giant.
A tremendous webbed foot, with claws that “Freddy Kruger” would be proud of, erupted from the water, and with the sound of nails dragging across a chalk board, pressed forcibly against the side of the boat.
Due to the slashing jaw, massive weight and hydraulic jack like pressure of the leg pushing on the boat, the line severed, slipping the leathery neck and head back to its muddy domain.
Totally exhausted, with daylight dimming, and no further need for excitement, we withdrew our empty trot-line and headed home.
In summation, setting a trot-line is like Forrest Gump says about life…”Life is like a box of chocolates, Ya never know what yu’re gonna get”.
While setting my many trot-lines I’ve caught many different oddities; alligators, bass, pike, musky, gar, turtles, seagulls, water moccasins, and raccoons; all of which, with a little finesse, were released unharmed and in better shape than me and John after this endeavor.
ELKII
.
