| v> | | | | I paddled back to camp with an air of success having |
| It has been almost 40 years since I first sailed a | | | | caught, and released, a huge shark. Well, so the story |
| canoe, and now is the time to share the experience. | | | | went. |
| I’ll ask the reader to do the same when the | | | | The next day we headed home. As we broke camp, |
| time is right, especially if it’s a good story. | | | | I noted the wind was in just the right direction. |
| I was with my Boy Scout troop out of Miami. We | | | | Having sailed a little on my Uncle Carl’s boat I |
| went for a canoe trip into the 10,000 Islands area of | | | | had a little familiarity with the whys and wherefores |
| Florida, a place where the land and sea fight for | | | | of sailing. Not much, mind you, but it was that little bit |
| preeminence over the very southern tip of the state. | | | | of knowledge that engendered the |
| We paddled a mélange of canoes out to an island, | | | | ideasaildon’t paddle. I convinced my |
| maybe just a couple three miles or so. We made | | | | tent mate (smaller than me) that this was the way |
| camp on ground barely above the high water mark, | | | | to go. We lashed two sticksprobably two tent |
| scattered with coral and transient soil. Plants | | | | polestogether, square-rigged, and tied to them an |
| consisted mostly of sea grape and whatever weedy | | | | Army poncho. We lashed the mast to the forward |
| stuff grows in such inhospitable conditions good only | | | | thwart and he would have to act as the step to |
| for crabs, mosquitoes and the ubiquitous sand fleas. | | | | keep it vertical. |
| By that age I had pretty much reached the point | | | | With steering paddle in hand, (now, I’d never |
| where I was too independent to be a Scout | | | | seen this before, only surmised it) we left the beach, |
| anymore and this would prove to be my last trip | | | | hell-bent for leather. Well, not right away. For awhile |
| hanging off the umbilical of a Scout Master, especially | | | | we sailed while others paddled ahead of us. They |
| one who (in my youthfully arrogant thinking) was | | | | laughed. I knew better. Tentmate/mast step |
| better off sitting in front of the tube watching a | | | | complained that we’d get in trouble. I assured |
| Dolphins game than trying to lead a hardened | | | | him we were being good Scouts and told him to stop |
| outdoorsman like myself. I had already spent many | | | | bawling and just hang on. |
| days in the Everglades and practically lived in the | | | | Then
we got wind
. |
| drained-swamp pine barrens surrounding our southern | | | | It wasn’t much, but we started accelerating, |
| Dade County home by then. (Within a couple years | | | | leaving the paddlers behind. He held on for dear life, I |
| of this trip I would find myself held by the foot by | | | | held onto the paddle and steered. |
| trap in alligator-infested, chest-deep water in the Big | | | | Wow. |
| Cypress Swamp; but that’s another story.) | | | | The flapping poncho filled and tightened as the wind |
| During one of the many lulls in the camp action, I | | | | picked up. The sound of water rushing over tin and |
| took off with the canoe assigned to me and my tent | | | | rivets increased as the mast step got louder in his |
| mate, a Grumman, if memory serves; aluminum, for | | | | complaints. We were leaving a wake...the paddlers fell |
| sure. Packing a spinning rod and a mullet gig, I went in | | | | behind. I heard not a word from Scout Master, who |
| search of adventure, and maybe some fresh fish for | | | | was probably aghast at the site of two of his young |
| dinner. After sticking myself a black mullet and baiting | | | | troops showing him up in such an obvious (and plainly |
| a hook, I settled down in the bottom of the canoe in | | | | heroic) manner. |
| my usual repose: horizontalnapping. After a bit, I | | | | I guess we beat the rest of the Troop by close to |
| had a strike. Shark! It pulled hard and began | | | | an hour. Tentmate was scared we’d be in |
| swimming to deeper water with a tin canoe and | | | | trouble and he complained about being held hostage |
| teenager attached. I hung on and adjusted my rod | | | | and I reminded him he wasn’t a hostage, but |
| angle so the boat would stay inline with the fish, | | | | Pressed, like the British did to American sailors, and |
| knowing a broach would be uncalled for when a | | | | should be proud he was part of a grand adventure. |
| shark is on the line. | | | | Scout Master was mad we’d left the others |
| He pulled. I | | | | behind and castigated me for being irresponsible and |
| pulled.He pulled | | | | what would have happened if we wrecked and all I |
| harder. I hung | | | | could think was he was better off living indoors with |
| on, (harder). | | | | others of his kind and he was red in the face and I |
| And then the line parted, but not until after he pulled | | | | was sure it was because he was shown up by a boy |
| me and the canoe into open water. (Could I see | | | | not yet old enough to drive who was twice, |
| Cuba from here?) | | | | nothricethe outdoorsman he’d ever be. |
| How cool. | | | | |