Now, in the pre-dawn hour, is when my experience began to show. In the dark I was able to find and sit in the best possible place to catch fish and also to point the rookie into the best place to NOT interfere with me catching the most fish. As it turned out, he also lucked into some nice size fish, so he was very grateful for my experience as well. Sometimes, two high tides and the fishing gods smile on the rookies as well as those of us who paid their dues for many years and grew up appreciating the Gulf of Mexico’s gifts. The rookie had never had the pleasure of meeting a flounder, a sand trout, a golden croaker, a black drum, a speckled trout or red fish. He only met some of them as they came off my hook but it was still a great time for him. With some honesty, I can relate to you he was happy with all the action and the few fish we actually kept to eat at another time. He and I believed in the “catch and release” school of conservation. I must also admit it took some convincing on my part for him to accept it at first. The rookie became a true adherent when I reminded him of who would have to clean all those small fish, ALONE, he wanted to keep. He was quick to repent of his wasteful, wanton ways, and as the sun rose, to see the light. Rookies can be so easy at times.

The mornings toil was a very successful time. The rookie was properly ebullient and once again was properly respectful as I began to quickly clean some of the real “keepers” we had. Did I mention he was big and strong and quite capable of carry large amounts of equipment back to the car trunk from the lake shore? He also gained valuable knowledge as I sat back, while sipping a cold soft drink, and instructed him on the proper method for field cleaning the remaining fish in our basket. In retrospect the ice chest didn’t seem heavy at all when he picked it up, with all the cleaned fish in it, and carried it back to the car trunk.

It seemed almost unbelievable that five hours had gone by so quickly but that is what had happened. Further evidence of time passage was provided by the growling noise coming from our stomachs. The rookies economy of words was also fading as the hunger pangs became more frequent. Silly questions were now being frequently formed. Did I suppose there were any of those beans, fried potatoes and tortillas left? I assured him that if there was nothing for us to eat back at the house, then we had bigger problems then being hungry. The world had probably ended and no one told us because we were catching too many fish. My experience was once again invaluable as we arrived at the house and upon exiting the car, had a plethora of delicious aroma greet us. Lunch was hot and ready as the lady of of the house put it on the table and I ate heartily as the rookie unloaded the car trunk. I informed him gently, “you got to pay your dues if you want to sing the blues.” He said “OK, I understand but remember, this afternoon we hunt doves at my place and you will be the rookie.”

I paused only slightly at the thought because in my world, I was never the Rookie. Never the less, I may one day tell you of the rest of that days experiences and the hunt that followed and maybe you will further understand the true meaning of “Every dog has his day”. I will allow one thing and it has to do with a whole box of shells being shot with only four birds to show at the end. 4 for 25 is close to being a rookie. Did I mention it was very windy that afternoon, the sun was in my eyes and I was very tired from catching so many fish that morning?