Old buddy Codwrinkle and I set off at the crack of noon to see if all these buttercups blooming really did mean the shellcrackers are bedding. Well, kinda sorta.
I got the feeling ol' Cod was just humoring me today, or maybe he just wanted out of the house, 'cause he didn't seem too excited today. He even agreed to go in MY boat for a change, or maybe he didn't want all that worm dirt in his boat.
We made a few quick stops for late crappie, and at our fourth stop, we caught two. One was a nice 13" but it was skinny and we figured they were played out for this season, so I zoomed around some shallows and spotted what appeared to be a couple of shellcracker beds. The first place was a bust, but the second one paid off with maybe 15-18 bream, a mix of 'crackers and bluegills. Cod had a big time with his 10ft crappie pole, and caught 3 studs that were near a pound apiece. He told me later that he had never actually targeted shellcrackers before, so he had fun.
At the ramp, he insisted on driving my boat onto the trailer. All went well until he tried to get out of the boat. My center console is waaay off the ground when it's on the trailer, and I said, "How are we gonna get your fat ass out of the boat?"
For once, he didn't have an answer. I'm five years younger than him, and I play hell getting out sometimes. I told him to think about it while I walked our trash to the garbage can nearby. I hear grunting behind me and turn to see his 73 year old ass hanging by one foot and one arm off the bow of the boat, a good five feet off the ground! I dropped the trash and dashed to catch him, and made it just in time! I grabbed him around the waist and he turned loose as I got there.
Landed on his feet. This will be funny next week, but I assure you it was dead serious today.
"You ok, you crazy old bastard?"
"I think I busted my ball bag."
"Well, when you can move again, get your old ass in the truck."
I got the feeling ol' Cod was just humoring me today, or maybe he just wanted out of the house, 'cause he didn't seem too excited today. He even agreed to go in MY boat for a change, or maybe he didn't want all that worm dirt in his boat.
We made a few quick stops for late crappie, and at our fourth stop, we caught two. One was a nice 13" but it was skinny and we figured they were played out for this season, so I zoomed around some shallows and spotted what appeared to be a couple of shellcracker beds. The first place was a bust, but the second one paid off with maybe 15-18 bream, a mix of 'crackers and bluegills. Cod had a big time with his 10ft crappie pole, and caught 3 studs that were near a pound apiece. He told me later that he had never actually targeted shellcrackers before, so he had fun.
At the ramp, he insisted on driving my boat onto the trailer. All went well until he tried to get out of the boat. My center console is waaay off the ground when it's on the trailer, and I said, "How are we gonna get your fat ass out of the boat?"
For once, he didn't have an answer. I'm five years younger than him, and I play hell getting out sometimes. I told him to think about it while I walked our trash to the garbage can nearby. I hear grunting behind me and turn to see his 73 year old ass hanging by one foot and one arm off the bow of the boat, a good five feet off the ground! I dropped the trash and dashed to catch him, and made it just in time! I grabbed him around the waist and he turned loose as I got there.
Landed on his feet. This will be funny next week, but I assure you it was dead serious today.
"You ok, you crazy old bastard?"
"I think I busted my ball bag."
"Well, when you can move again, get your old ass in the truck."