Not all my memorable experiences at Wargo were life threatening. Once Sport and I were asleep in our tent, with only a very small hole in our almost zipped up doorway remaining. The thing about small holes, though, is that it sorta negates being enclosed in a tent in the first place. In the middle of the night, Sport roused me from my catfish dreams with an elbow in the ribs. “Pat,” he said, “We are not alone.” I switched on my light. The prettiest, most bushy tailed skunk I had ever seen was sitting in the middle of sport's sleeping bag! We quietly slid out that hole, in only our whitey-tighties, and waited, shivering. Fifteen minutes later the skunk strolled out and off, never having left his calling card.
The thing about a family, chock full of pretty girls, is that sooner or later, a whole herd of son-in-laws will fill the old home place on holidays. Especially my mother-inlaw, Verla Mae Dunnahoe's house. She seldom spoke, but when she did, it was law. We were all there for Christmas.
The thing about men, especially young men, is that they are chock full of testosterone. They are driven to seek excitement, in one or more of its forms, daily. It's a requirement of life.
We in-laws once were sitting around at the Dunnahoe farm, relaxing after a big Christmas dinner. Someone mentioned the river, and I woke up. I always slept through all those long discussions about farming. They bored me to death. “The river is really rolling, right now,” someone said. “Let's go see it,” someone else chimed in. “Why don't we take the boat?” We loaded up the boat and headed for the river.
As I think about it, forty plus years removed, I realize only an irrational crave for excitement, or absolute insanity, could have brought about what happened that cold winter day.
So, me and my in-laws loaded into the boat, and headed up river. The boat was far too small for that crowd. Not a life jacket in sight. Sport was the only one old enough to have better sense, but there was just no way, I mean no way, Sport would ever let himself be left out when a river adventure beckoned. Not even up to the day he died. The twenty horse motor pushed us up the rolling river. A rock levee extended well out into the river ahead. J. D. pushed the boat toward the levee end.
The thing about rolling river water is, when it hits the end of a rock levee, a huge whirlpool can develop, sucking anything that enters down, down. J. D. steered around the end of the levee.. Suddenly we went down. Down into the heart of the whirlpool. All around us, even above our heads, was a tornado of water. Time to say our prayers. J. D. opened up the motor, full throttle. The motor strained. We whirled with the water. Ever so slowly, the motor pushed us toward the side of the whirlpool, then even more slowly, we climbed. As we finally pulled out, we were all ready to go back to that warm living room, ready to be bored for the rest of the day. Our appetite for excitement was sated, for that day.
We once were camped, fishing, on the Arkansas river a mile below the last dam. The lines were producing well. We had 40 nice cats in J. D.'s brand new, custom made, metal fish box. The guys, Sport, J. D., and another in- law or two, wanted to go run the lines again at midnight. I chose to stay at the tent, well up on a sand bar, in my bag. The boat was overloaded anyway.
The thing about loud horns, when fishing below a dam, is, sit up and pay attention. Well, this one sounded like a river boat over on the mighty Missisip', only a couple of miles away, I told myself as I dozed off. I was soon awakened by water sloshing at the tent. The dam had turned the water loose, and we had been warned. By the time I pulled the tent to higher ground, J. D.'s brand new fish box, and our forty nice cat, had disappeared. Finally, the guys in the boat struggled to shore, being pushed down river fast. The lines were now too deep to ever find that night, and the new box was never to be seen again. All we could do for the rest of that night, and until the current receded some the next day, was to keep pulling the tent to higher, and higher, ground.
Continued next post
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