Bubba Jones Locker Part 2

When we last saw our Heroes, they were fishing in the Bayou of Doom and having a great day! Let's see how they're doing now...


Captain Jack and I were having a great day fishing. We'd had some promising bites and a few lip outs, but our spirits were high. Suddenly however, things went sour. I started snagging on hidden logs. We'd ease the boat over and my snagged bait was magically hanging limp in the water. Captain Jack began getting wind knots in his braided line with no wind blowing. Our once perfect casts were now catching limbs, getting caught in the stems of lilly pads and rigging into Spanish moss causing them to clump into the water and being brought to the boat on our retrieves. This went on for hours.
Captain Jack looked at me and stated flatly that he was done. He'd just pilot our craft and enjoy the boat ride. This shook my soul to the core. Captain Jack hanging up the hook for the day? His internal warning alarm had obviously gone off and he picked up on it. Me? Nope. Not one sound, alarm, bell or whistle. I held up my best fishing weapon, squared my shoulders and defiantly cried out, "Not me!" Yep. I've never been the sharpest saw in the shed.


Captain Jack positioned the boat further back into the bayou and I became a fiend. I was casting at every stump, clump, and log I saw. I was on a mission! I could not or would not be defeated! How wrong I was.  The next few minutes are chiseled into my heart. A horror I will never forget. Captain Jack was standing on the fore deck watching me and making supportive comments. At one of these I looked at him to reply something. As I was opening my mouth I was also making an off hand cast. I'd done this a million times. No big deal. Then as if pulled or rather being snatched from my hand, my best and most prized fishing weapon launched itself into the air! It flew 5 or 6 feet from the boat! I froze. I couldn't speak or think. The rod landed on top of the water and hung there a second, a minute, a lifetime. But I was powerless to move.


After staring at the dark murky water for 5 minutes without saying a word, I sat down. I'd been defeated. Whooped. My fishing heart laid open for the world to poke at. Captain Jack started the boat, eased back to the channel and we began the ride out. Bouncing on the water I looked back over my shoulder into the bayou and for a moment, just a brief glimmer of time, I saw a ragged arm cold and dead holding my rod high in the air. I whispered to myself, "Bubba Jones."

- JD