Search for the Missing Whiting

A message from the Texas Tropics

Today, Edd Alexander, Luther Potts and I resumed our search for the missing Whiting.  We went over to Arroyo City and searched there via rod, reel, hook and squid.  We searched the length of the Arroyo and still no Whiting!  However we did find that the Steel Head Catfish had not left the bay.  We caught plenty of the things, but weren’t too excited about cleaning them….so they were safe!

This whole area called the Valley is the delta for the Rio Grande River.  Over time the river has switched channels and meandered all over the plain known as the valley.  Everywhere are abandoned meanders from the old channels of the Rio Grande.  The farmers in this area use the abandoned meanders for storage of irrigation water.  Irrigation water is purchased from the various water districts that get water from the Colorado and Rio Grande Rivers.  The water is moved downhill and stored for irrigation use.  Since this whole area is a desert getting less than ten inches of rainfall per year, nothing grows without irrigation. 

All kinds of citrus fruit, cabbages, broccoli, beans, pineapple, cucumbers and everything imaginable are grown here.  This area is literally the vegetable basket of the nation….all grown courtesy of the old channels of the Rio Grande River.

When we finished our fishing today, we set the “Sue Sea” on a course for the boat ramp.  On the way back, Edd Alexander became excited and exclaimed something about us barely missing a swimming deer.  We turned the Sue Sea around and returned to see!  It turned out to be nothing more than a grungy, unkept coyote crossing the bayou and now swimming as fast as he could.  We had encountered swimming animals before such as moose, bear, snakes, otters, beavers and chalets.  The Coyote was as rough looking character as we have met.  He swam to the shore and quickly disappeared into the Chaparral.  I do believe he must have been an illegal immigrant because no self-respecting U. S. coyote would have dressed as badly as this one nor would he have been that proficient in swimming!

Here is a picture of our missing Whiting.  If you spot our missing fish, call our hotline at 1-800-got-fish and explain to the operator where they are located!  We’ll be right there!

Southern Kingfish (Whiting)

After returning to South Padre Island, I looked up my wife who was at the Market Fest---the Island’s weekend long arts and crafts festival (glorified flea market).  Since I was away with the boat and the truck, she walked the 2.5 miles to get there. Some people are a bit crazy about going to an Arts and Crafts show.  She also saw a first--the new commodes at the Convention Center have automatic seat covers.  You push a button and the seat is covered with a tube of clear plastic.  Instructions tell you to push the button before using. Instructions also tell to throw all tissue in the commode…not on the floor!  Crazy that people have to be told that part.  Oh Well! Then I rushed back to write this story.  This is the first story in three days because during that time our life has been….boring!

Dove hunting with Son In Law

It was Saturday Morning and it was Dove Season! Son In Law David and Grandson Trey and I went Dove hunting at an obsecure pond. We mostly sat around the pond all morning watching the dove who were sitting on the high line and fences watching us.

About an hour into the hunt, a lone coyote loped over a rise in the adjoining wheat field and seemed to ignore our presence. Both David an I quietly said to Grandson Trey "Do you see that coyote?" Trey didn't see the coyote! David described exactly where the animal was and Trey acknowledged!

It was just as if David had said breakfast is ready! The Coyote wheeled around and made short work of covering the 200 yards of ground, making a "B" line right for David! About that time my pulse and David's pulse was beating at 120 BPM!

I'm sure the coyote only wanted a drink from the pond we were guarding from the doves.
Within ten yards of David, the coyote realized the error in his ways! The Coyote jumped about 6 feet high. Son in law, David also jumped six feet in the air! Both landed, just not wanting to be in each other's company! The coyote skedadled!

Trey and I both laughed about the scene and decided we had never seen anything like that in coyote behavior.

Concluding the Dove were not going to fly, we loaded the picup and went home.
The coyote had made our failed dove hunt a memorable one!

Lake Superior Trip

Lake Superior Story
Or…”The Next Adventure” won’t be lost

This is to document happenings on Lake Superior Beginning on August 14, 2009 when Wayne McCoy and Jim Clifton took the 26’ sloop “Next Adventure” for a sail out of Bayfield, WI.

Arrived at Bayfield about 5:00 PM, Looked for RV park, park was full. We often used our sailboat as an RV because it had all of the same amenities. We decided to launch the boat and stay on it. All went well, watched the Movie "Holes" and went to bed.

8:00 am Saturday. Began sail to Stockton Island, wind was poor, sailed all day long. Stopped at Quarry harbor to spend night. Cooked up a bunch of stew and had a great dinner. Settled down to watch a movie and the battery was dead....no movie. Alternator on our outboard was bad, causing the battery to go dead.

The “Next Adventure” on Lake Superior
(Notice Main Sail line is missing)

The flies were really bad. During the night we had a storm with rain, thunder wind and lightening. The boat tossed all night long, rubbing the dock occasionally.

Sunday Morning.... found the storm had blown the main sail rope out of fitting and along side of the boat....this means that it was pulled from it's pulley on top of the mast. We made a bad decision....to sail in with the jib only as the rope for it was still in place. It would have been prudent to drop the mast and fix the rope while at the dock. However, we jumped our dead battery to our spare battery and motored out of the bay and raised our only jib sail.

Somewhere near Basswood Island, a wind storm came up with wind close to 50 mph. It was strong enough to break the jib rope. Once again we jumped the battery and started the engine and motored to a calm place in the wind shadow of Oak Island. We dropped the mast and re-threaded the line to the main sail.

Sailing out into the bay, we encountered winds stronger than ever! We tacked across the bay twice, and then as we approached a rock bluff with no friendly shore line, a mast fitting broke in the horrible wind! With a sharp crack, the mast dropped into the cockpit where I was steering the boat. Wayne didn't know what had happened, except he couldn't see me!
He kept calling "Jim are you all right?" Finally I answered him and said he needed to get some of the sail off of me so I could get off of the floor! The twenty eight foot mast had dropped across my left arm. I was saved from injury by the high stern deck that stopped the large aluminum extrusion from breaking my arm.

With no time to waste should the boat be dashed to bits on the rocks, I told Wayne to jump the battery so we could start the engine. Just in time, we avoided the calamity of disaster on the rocks. Steering the boat with my arm under the mast was a problem and so were all of the cables and ropes tangled everywhere from the fall of the mast! Glancing up bay from us were two larger sloops swooping down to help us, as if they knew exactly what happened and seeing us under power and avoiding the rocks, they changed course and sailed away.

Now there was a different problem. We were low on fuel and in a storm. Luckily just a quarter mile from us was a quiet inlet with a boat anchorage. Reaching the safety of the inlet, we met three fishermen who thought the mess on our boat deck was normal for sailors! At first we told them that we needed gas, then we told them about the calamity with the mast.
That was when one of them decided to help us. Making the trek uphill in his pickup, he purchased a tank of gasoline for us and returned. During his trip to the gas station, we cleaned up our mess as good as possible and made the boat usable.

Under power and a full tank of gasoline on board, we headed for the Bayfield Harbor. It was six miles upwind and across waves that would make a land lubber nervous. On the way we passed the remains of a shipwreck, the "Fedora", a 285' steamer that had gone down after a fire and a storm in 1901. It's ribs protruded above the surface of the water. It was a ghostly sight and reminded us how we could have been unmercifully dashed on the rocks. We thought The Fedora’s Captain Fick valiant and bold to have placed his ship near shore so the crew could escape. We praised God that he had allowed us to escape unhurt, in one piece and under power as we made it to Bayfield Harbor.

Later at the launching ramp, we talked to a local boatwright who told us about the wind in the narrow channel where we avoided disaster. He said the islands and land masses around there were so tall that the winds are funneled down the channel in a brutal manner. Also the wind funnel has enough cross winds to prevent big waves from developing.

We had experienced Lake Superior, seen it nasty temperament and lived to tell about it. Had our fear of the lake been satisfied? No, just a little respect and knowledge added to a healthy understanding of life on Lake Superior and knowledge of how so many ship wrecks became reality.
Jim Clifton