A Feathery Fish Story

It is well known to those around me, and a few others, that I love to fish.


Yes! I love to fish.  Preferably with a fly rod, however being in Florida at the present I am a total stranger to saltwater fly fishing so I leave that segment alone even though our motor home is only yards away from the water, I am not tempted to show my lack of knowledge to that segment of the sport.  It is, of course, a perfect place to use live bait on a drop sinker with a floater line above holding a hook for bait which in this case will be live shrimp.


Where we are staying is just across the Sky-way Bridge connecting St. Petersburg peninsula with the mainland south towards Bradenton.  Between the bridge and Bradenton there is a town called Palmetto.  Check it out on Google Earth when you have a chance.  Palmetto is just a dot in the interconnecting dots that are towns running the Gulf coast from Tarpon Springs all the way down to the Everglades south of Ft Meyers.  If you don't leave the main highways of I75 or US 41 you never know when you leave one town and enter another.


But back to the fish story.

Yesterday, January 4th, it warmed up to 73, or so and in the afternoon around 3 o'clock, I decided to try fishing off of the man made spit of land running due west and out into the back bay that all but surrounds this park and is only a block from our rental postage stamp of ground.


Fishing was planned ahead, as having purchased only a single dozen of live shrimp from the local bait shop earlier in the day in preparation. Twelve prawn sized beauties almost transparent in color, swimming around inside the blue and white live bait bucket with a red latching access cover in the middle of the top.


The sun was warm on my face as I loaded my two rods, one heavy deep sea spinning, and one medium, open faced spinning rod.  My small tackle box, and the live bait bucket all in two handful's as I walked the one hundred yards out to the fishing spot.  The heavier of the two fishing rods was set up for live shrimp and a big red bober which floated over the sinker and had the hook tied half way in between.

Arriving at the end of land.  The tip of the spit of land reaching out into the clear blue waters of the gulf, I attached a flipping, live shrimp.  This ensemble was cast north, far out into the flats looking for speckled trout.  Then, using the middle weight rod, started casting a shiny mirror lure again to the north to the left and right of the floating bober.


I want to make mention here and repeat the fact that I am facing north.  Earlier, Upon arrival to the fishing spot, I had set down the tackle box and the blue, and white live bait bucket to the south side of the opening under some scrub trees.


A beautiful view of the inland waters with small green dotted islands all around, I fished, and fished not caring if I really caught anything or not.  Just enjoying the sun and the warm breeze from the East.

I was brought to reality instantly by a loud crash and thrashing in the tree above me.  Looking up, I saw feathers and stretching around could see the pointed beak and blue markings of a great blue harron .


"Nuts", I thought.  The good camera is back at the motor home.


"Cell Phone", was the next thought and reaching and stepping back to get a better view of the birds perch, he, or she, swooped to the ground not 10 feet from me.


Well, fishing went to the back burner and photography now came into play cause I am a better photographer than I am a fisherman to be honest.   We viewed each other for a good minute as I readied the cell phone to capture this beautiful bird. Click, Click, Click!  several images made, we still stood less than a first down marker apart.


"Sure wish I had the Nikon", I thought almost out loud


 Spotty sun and shade did not make for a great images, but felt proud to be able to capture this bird at such close range.  I was making friends with a bird that if I where  on my knees, would look me straight in the eye.  Tall and proud this bird stood, pacing to and fro, watching me watch him.

After a few minutes of making images of this four foot tall bird, I turned and resumed watching the red bober, and throwing the shiny plug.  First, throwing to the West, and then to the East, and back again dissecting the 180 degree arch in front of me. I would look occasionally back at the bird standing now less than eight feet behind me.  Fishing, bird.  Bird, fishing.  Then fishing, fishing fishing.


Then, for some reason, I turned and look back over my shoulder just in time to see the feathery blue head dive into the bait bucket and gulp down a couple of shrimp.


"Get out of there" I hollered.  "you *#*$(*#, scram and leave my shrimp alone."


By the time I took the three paces back to the tackle area, the great bird back away the same short distance.  Looking somewhat disturbed that I would change his supper arrangements.


Looking inside the eight inch diameter bait can, with its red lid laid open and back,  I could only see three swimming shapes.  Yes, he had eaten all but three of my one dozen shrimp in less time that it takes you to read this story.


Of course I eagerly latched the lid securely this time with the plastic clasp on the edge and laughed at myself as I visualized the past scenes as one would watch a replay on tv.  Again and again I created the vision of the that big bird bent over with his head in my bait bucket.  The more I reviewed, the bigger my smile got.
And,"closing the door after the horses got out" as my mother would say.  I just had to chuckle out loud at the situation.


For the next half hour, I fished & watched the bird.  He stood at a distance of 6 feet and watched me, looking occasionally at the bait bucket, then back at me like a street urchin looking for a hand out.   I kept a continued look out, and he kept inching in when I turned away, and inching back when I turned my head in his direction.   So I assumed this was not "his first rodeo" with a dumb fisherman that left the bait bucket unlatched,


 The thought sprang up, "the next time I go fishing in that location I will take the good camera with me, and if he shows up again I will also have a few extra shrimp to pay for his modeling fees.


But for the moments that followed  we just kept staring at each other.  Him watching me hoping that I would be kept distracted by fishing, and me watching him to not eat my three remaining baits.


"Pretty Smart, you dumb bird", I thought to myself.  "You out-foxed me once but not again."
But no sooner thought than it seemed as if it read my thoughts.
Spreading those five foot wings, he  rose straight up and flew directly over my head.


In a great "whoosh" of wings, and  with his head turned sideways, eye down,  I could have sworn I saw that yellow eye wink at me saying "thanks"!