I've been finding a reason not to fish every weekend. Yesterday, i got a call from on old friend Sandy Allen of Allen's Marine/Boat service. She told me her husband Mike Allen, a fine man and superb boat motor mechanic. He loved outboard motor and putting his wife on crappie on Tuesdays when the shop was closed. Mike and Sandy treated me like an old friend. He would let me watch/help while he worked on my motor. He would teach me and tell me all the stuff to I needed to be doing to take care of my Evinrude.

Mike was a Army Veteran. He worked with his hands his whole life. Farming as a kid. His hands developed terrrible arthritis and fingers curled to where he could barely work. The V.A. didn't treat him as well as I think every veteran should be treated, but he eventually got surgery to free up his fingers on both hands. He returned to working for a while, but hands, back and lungs were bringing him down. He smoked like a chimney. I'd ask him if I should be worried as he would take carb bowls off my motor with a cig in his mouth. He would chuckle and tell me it ain't got him yet.

Like I said, my lazy butt had been wimping out every weekend and not going out. Sandy called me yesterday to tell me that Mike was under hospice care and cancer was taking him. Before we hung up, she told me to take the boat out. "Go when you can. We got old quick". So this morning, I hooked up and headed to the river. There was a search going on for a missing man from last night. Missing from Hericus park. I know the area well, so I decided to troll for a couple hours and watch my side scan. The tide had been thru 2 complete cycles since the man went under, so he could have been anywhere. I never marked anything. The Chesterfield Rescue found his body about noon. Maybe 200 yards from where he disappeared. RIP Mr. Carillo.

When I launched this morning, by myself, I did what I have done a hundred times. This is what happened.

Ranger morning oops at Dutch Gap - YouTube

Surprisingly I remained calm and it wasn't very long until some nice people came by and brought my baby back to me. After returning home, I got a text that Mike Allen had passed away this morning. I hope in my heart that it was him who popped my dock rope off the post, just to mess with me. If not, I hope he had a good laugh girl drifting away from me as I stood helpless.

I miss you Mike. Thanks for all that you taught me. Thanks for how you always treated me. Lord lay your healing hands on Sandy and the family, who are hurting today.

Dayton