A Sinking Feeling

Brad and his family had driven down from Copperas Cove the night before and when Jim showed up we were almost ready to shove off. Layla and I had moved full time to Bayou Vista, and I had my twenty-two footer in the boat stall on the canal, so all that needed to be done was load up the ice, water, food and Jim’s tackle. Brad and Bradley were using mine. Shrimp were no problem since I had bought some the night before and kept them alive in a specially remanufactured, plastic, garbage can tied to the boat stall. Transferring them, using a long handled net only took a short time and then we were off.

My “party” wanted to fish Jones Lake to see if my bragging was correct and the fishing was as really as good as I had been saying. Since it was Friday, boat traffic was almost non-existent as we glided under the railroad bridge. The bridge’s clearance was almost seven feet at mid tide and the distance between the bridge supports was about eight feet and the channels had “outgoing: and “incoming”signs. A new bridge had been built several years before really opening up Bayou Vista’s access to West Galveston Bay.

Below is a picture of Highlands Bayou flowing under the new, Bayou Vista bridge. The old bridge had half of the clearance of the new one. The Bayou empties into Jones Lake and then on into West Galveston Bay.

When I took this shot, the tide was high and it was cloudy and threatening rain, the precursor of Tropical Storm Erin, that one week later caused serious flooding in Illinois, Wisconsin and Minnesota.

Sometimes you get lucky. Today was one of those days with the tide flowing in all morning, light winds from the southeast and nice, green, clear water. All we had to do now was find signs of baitfish or shrimp popping out of the water as predators chased them.

Cruising slowly towards Tiki Island, the boat seemed to handle a little sluggish to me, but I thought it was just the load of our food, water and equipment, plus the four big guys. We started our drift and began casting out our shrimp, under rattling popping corks, and soon, whamo, Jim was into a nice Speck, definitely a keeper, which when netted was unceremoniously pitched into the big cooler. Shortly Brad connected and we iced down another Speck. Bradley had one on, but it proved to be below the minimum length so back into the water it went. We iced down one more and seemed to have drifted out of the fish so we made a slow circle back, near to our original starting point.

The boat was sluggish, next move I will give it more gas. As we started our drift, Bradley cast out and was rewarded by his cork slowly going under. “Bradley, let it go under, slowly take up your slack, now hit him,” I instructed, and he was rewarded with a bowed rod and the fish, probably a nice Red, taking off and peeling line from his reel. Several years ago when Bradley hooked his first big Red, he was afraid it was going to pull him into the water. Not this time. He successfully brought the fish, a keeper Red, to the boat and it was added to the cooler. This spot slowed so we prepared to move to another proven spot about one half mile away.

Bringing the boat to plane, I was now certain something was wrong with the motor. It “bogged” down and barely got the boat on top, but we reached the new spot OK and started our drift. Soon we had boated three more keepers and as the fishing slowed we decided to circle back and drift through this spot again.

Attempting to start the motor, grind, grind, nothing happened. No ignition. Grind, grind again, nothing, as Jim says, “It seems like it’s broke. Do you have plenty of gas?” Looking at the gauge, I replied, “Three fourths.” Brad added, “Dad, does this boat always ride so low in the water?” “No,” I exclaimed, kneeling down and opening an inspection plate. I spied our problem. The entire bilge area was full of water. That’s why it was sluggish. Obviously the bilge pumps had shorted out but the motor should have started. Trying again, grind, grind, nothing.

Facing my “crew” I told them, “Boys, it looks like were stuck. Get on the life jackets and Jim tie a hankie onto the end of your rod and put it into the rear rod holder.” The “crew” complied with the order. We were less than two miles from my beach house, but the channels had some ten foot plus holes, so wading and pulling the boat back was out of the question, and swimming the boat through and under the railroad bridge was virtually impossible. We will have to sit and await a rescuer.

Now my story gets real strange. We had been the only boat on Jones Lake, but in the distance we spied one boat heading our way. It turned out to be a bay/offshore fishing boat, twenty-three feet long with a 225 horsepower motor, a nice rig, and nice to see him!

He pulled up to us and said, not even asking if we need help, “I’m here to pull you all in.” “That is fine with me.” I replied, as I tossed him a line. I added, “Getting under the bridge is going to present us some problems.” He said, “If all of you all can keep it from banging into the supports, I believe we can sneak through OK.”

We putted down Highlands Bayou and, with no damage, manhandled the boat through the bridge. It was riding low in the water, but the flotation was keeping it up. I asked the Good Samaritan if he would tow us on to Louis’ Bait Camp and then we could use the ramp and load up there. I called Layla on my cell phone and told her we had a problem and asked her to hook up the trailer to the Suburban and come on down to Louis’.

Once we were tied up to a pier at Louis”, I offered to pay the man for his help. “No,” he said, “I broke down two weeks ago and was pulled in from twenty miles offshore, and I’m returning the favor. I knew someone needed help and I’m more than glad to offer it.”
Wow! How did he know we needed help? Kinda’ spooky wasn’t it?

We loaded the boat onto the trailer, took it to the local boat shop, and two weeks and $720.00 later, it ran like new. The leak in the bilge area was caused by a worn water line going into the live well and a loose fitting had allowed the water into the gas tank. From then on I used the live well for storage and closed the valve to its water intake.

Having pulled in several boats, finding an empty boat and even saving 3 men from a sinking fishing boat, this was different, me getting pulled in, but it all ended well because we did have enough fish for a good fish fry that night!