Saltwater Fishing By A Freshwater Fisherman | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Saltwater Fishing By A Freshwater Fisherman | Previous Challenge Entry
By Mariane Holbrook
09/08/22
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Bringing our mountain friend, Kermit, to the beach was like bringing Jeb Clampett to Hollywood. A retired farmer, Kermit fished often for catfish in the pond behind his house. He was a pleasant homebody, a widower who had never seen the ocean. But we finally persuaded him to visit us at our beach house.

Though the community fishing pier was only a block from our house at the beach, surf fishing on the beach quickly became Kermit's favorite pastime. He used the same tackle in the ocean that he used back home, resisting the fresh shrimp that most fishermen use as bait in the salt water. The fish turned up their noses at his preference of plastic lures over fresh bait.

That night my husband, John, spread a gill net out in the ocean and left it overnight. Very early the next morning, he took Kermit to the Ocean View Diner for their "Fishermen's Whopping Breakfast" of shrimp and grits, fried apples, eggs, biscuits and coffee.

Arriving at the gill net, they found it so full of fish that it required extraordinary strength to pull it in. Kermit was thrilled with all the flounder, whitings, and spots he extracted from the bulging 100-yard net. He was proud of the 3 buckets he had filled to the brim and overflowing. There was just one problem; the big buckets Kermit had filled belonged to total strangers who were fishing beside us.

Running out of ideas, we finally persuaded Kermit to at least try pier fishing. The next day John was busy so I escorted Kermit out on the pier during one of the biggest runs of spots I'd ever seen. Fishermen were lined up two deep on both sides of the pier. Spots were routinely being brought up two at a time and slammed onto the pier floor. It was hectic, it was havoc, it was a huge hassle. But to the fishermen, it was heaven on earth. That is until Kermit arrived.

I finally found a spot for Kermit on the north side of the pier and helped him set up. I convinced him that only fresh shrimp were used as bait for Spots so I threaded a small shrimp onto his hook. I cast out a couple of times to show him where to aim when he cast, straight out from the pier. Taking the rod confidently from me, he cast his long fishing line sideways across the lines of more than 20 very irate fishermen. I couldn't believe it. Grabbing his fishing pole, I began apologizing to everyone who was screaming in our direction.

Kermit scratched his head. "Since you've got this under control, I'll just slip into the pier shop for some coffee." He sauntered off leaving me to face angry, bearded men who take fall fishing more seriously than open-heart surgery. Finally, I cut the line and let Kermit's tackle fall into the sea. Well, I didn't actually cut the line; the burley, unshaven, wild man next to me yanked out his saber-sized fishing knife and sort of did it for me.

We didn't return to the pier after that disaster. I was afraid we'd see a "Wanted" poster bearing Kermit's picture, signed by a hundred irate, apoplectic fishermen.

On his last day with us, we put him on an all-day fishing head boat with about 40 other fishermen, headed for the Gulf Stream. Kermit was seasick the entire day and lost his breakfast. But he did catch one large fish. The boat captain persuaded Kermit to have it cleaned, filleted, and put on ice, for a rather generous fee, of course. Kermit brought the fillets home for me to cook for dinner. Pouring the fillet onto the kitchen counter, he said, "The captain said it was an Amberjack.”

I gasped. NO ONE eats Amberjack because they're full of small white worms. Kermit had been had. We quickly hatched a plan that Kermit would never know about.

While Kermit showered and rested, John buried the Amberjack in the woods near us and hurried to the fish market to buy several pounds of Grouper fillets at $12.50 a pound. John had also invited some neighbors to have dinner with us and meet Kermit.

While I was deep-frying the Grouper fillets, Kermit walked into the kitchen and said, "Did I say the fish I caught was an Amberjack? I meant to say Grouper. We're having Grouper tonight!"

When was the last time you saw your husband cry?

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True story.

Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." (Matt. 4:19) KJV

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