
That particular evening, the first anchor drop produced very few bites at the edge of my favorite fishing hole. So, I made a few drifts across Buzzard Island Bar to get a feel for the wind and tide interplay. Still, few bites. So, we pulled up lines and headed north to the power plant at Chalk Point.
I reached over the starboard side to check the water temperature at the mouth of the discharge canal. The water must have been 95 degrees, too hot for fishing. I moved out into the river and anchored just beyond the warm water just to see if there might be catfish hanging nearby.
After ten minutes without a bite, I fired up the inboard engine and slowly moved downriver. Only a few seconds later, I realized that I had not drifted the last spot but anchored. As I quickly threw the shift lever into neutral, a clank came through the boat from the propeller.
“What happened?” exclaimed Jackie.
I calmly said, “I wrapped my line and anchor around the propeller shaft. Never done that before, duh.”
“What are we going to do?” she said.
“Well, I don’t know what we are going to do, but I am going under the boat to unwrap the anchor line.” I said as I kicked off my shoes and eased off the stern dive platform.
With the line unwrapped, we headed back downriver. While the sun was setting, we anchored up at our first spot. The tide was moving better.
Under the dim anchor light, it was hard to see what monster Jackie had caught till I netted the really big eel and swung it into the boat. What a mess! Now, I keep a separate cooler with a thick layer of salt on the bottom just for eels.
That trip was a fine learning experience about persistence and patience as well as remembering to pull the anchor and charge the sealed beam flashlight. The outcome was a September smorgasbord of seafood for myself, friends, and neighbors.
This November, please make sure to enjoy your fishing adventures but put your casting pole aside for a few minutes and cast your important vote at the polls on November 3rd in the General Elections. Thank you.