Fishin' the Honey Hole

Fishin’ the “Honey Hole”

One summer day in 1989, my brother Tom and I decided to slip down to a little sixteen-acre lake we call “Little Hurricane.” We had caught some monster bass out of that place, dating back to when we were just kids. The bass were beautiful, healthy and richly colored as only God himself could do.

The lake had a few drawbacks though, to the average fisherman, that is: First, it was very mossy, especially in the summer months. Secondly, it was gin-clear all the time, making it very hard to fish. Finally, over the years, the land around it had been completely developed, limiting access almost completely. We did manage to buy an old junker flat-bottomed boat to leave there…and we did manage to befriend one of the old-time land owners, which guaranteed us access. Nevertheless it was a tough place to launch because of the undergrowth. If a man wanted to fish Little Hurricane, he had to work at it.

Well, this particular day, I got there first, and as usual, Tom was late. As I launched, a foot-long water snake dropped off into the back end of the boat. He was harmless so I just left him be. I took to the front of the boat and sculled 200 yards to the other side. I tied up and was getting comfortable and wouldn’t you know it? Guess who I saw making his way coming to the lake on the (now) far bank? Right, my little brother. I sighed, reeled in and paddled back across the lake. The thought hit me, “I’ll fix him for bein’ late and making me paddle back across this lake and loosing good fishin’ time.” So, rather than come into the bank with the front of the boat, I awkwardly turned the transom to the bank and headed in to a very brushy area. The boat grounded two feet from dry land though—the best I could do, don’t you know.

Tom was fightin’ briars and limbs with two fishin’ rods and a tackle box in his hands, and was concentrating on making a slick, all-in-one motion jump into the boat. Oh! He did great on the execution. With the grace of a gazelle, he took to the air. In mid-flight he spied the snake fully exposed in the bottom of the boat (tsk, tsk) in his end. Somehow I think he levitated just for a moment and with a tyrade of nonrepatable adjectives about the snake and my ancestry, landed spraddle-legged, one foot on the bench seat and one on the floor of the boat, snake bein’ in between. He immediately took to the bench seat entirely! The snake, being confused from the ruckous, managed to crawl under the bench seat via one of the ‘V’ grooves in the boat floor, safely out of sight and momentarily out of mind.

I said, “Tom, it’s just a little ole’ water snake—can’t hurt anyone. All God’s creatures gotta have a place to live, you know.” After he got his breath and began to forget about the snake, he began to fish—first with a bit of timidity and then intently, concentrating on each retrieve—as always.

We fished for a couple of hours without incident. He began to get one or two bass up on me and then he hooked a really good bass! As he was fighting the fish, trying not to get tangled in the moss or brush, He stepped up on the bench seat, where he normally sat. He had his back to me, concentrating very hard attempting to steer the fish toward the back of the boat.

Now mind you, I had a 7-foot rod I was fishin’ with—and we had a 12-foot boat. So I decided in the heat of (his) “battle” to just lean toward him quietly, and extend my rod tip to just outside his right ankle. With the eloquence of a conductor, I tapped my “baton” three or four times in rapid succession. At that point, he immediately forgot about the fish and remembered that stowaway snake! He all but threw his rod down and commenced to dancin’ and huffin’ all over the bench seat, side and back of the boat. I tried to stabilize the boat best I could, but, baby, she was rockin’ and rollin’. I don’t see how he stayed in the boat. He gyrated and hyperventilated all over the back end of that boat for ten seconds or so! I laughed so hard as he finally gathered his composure and just seared a look at me that could kill. I finally convinced him to talk to me as I offered a rather half-hearted apology. I was grinnin’ like a jackass eatin’ briars’ as I apologized. Not only did it negate my apology, it just made it worse for a time. I wished I had a Frostie root beer and Hostess Cupcake to offer him. (That combination almost always worked when we were kids.)

I can’t remember who caught the most fish that day (that probably means he did) but I do know that I reeled my little brother in—big time. Come to think of it, I don’t recall ole’ Tom ever bein’ late for another launch either. Can you imagine that? Thanks for comin' along. <><

aj

Thats was funny.
Your lucky he didnt beat your @$$ lmfao

Great story and memory. Thanks for sharing!

To this day, he rarely lets me forget it. He STILL does not see the humor in it. I don't understand. lol

Arkie, great story,got a good chuckle out of me. today's been a little rough at work, I needed to pick-me-up.

Glad to be of assistance--at my brother's expense!!!

I wrote a bunch of these stories down several years ago and will be sharing them along the way. I'm honored that you liked the story. It happened just that way. Tom is eight years my junior and has been taking my flack for a long, long time. lol

Just for funnies, we are fishing the Arkansas Big Bass Bonanza Tournament this week-end with the possibility of winning a slick hundred grand for the biggest fish. I am no tournament fisherman and as a river fisherman (it's gonna be on the Arkansas River), I pretty-much suck. But we are goin' to give it a good shot and will no doubt--have a great time.

I really can't wait to get back on Lake Ouachita and do a little drift fishin' for the specks at night.

So glad you enjoyed the story and perhaps it lightened your load a bit. Remember that the bad days make you appreciate the good ones, bud. <><

aj

good story, well told.

Good to you & your brother this weekend in the tx.

Funny story, aj.

Great story, makes me remember fishing with my big brother. enjoyed reading your story thanks ,arkie john