Southern Louisiana Fishing Lesson
“I know it's hard when you're up to your armpits in alligators to remember you came here to drain the swamp.”—Ronald Reagan
As long and short calls of quails
turned into piping of crickets and frogs,
the stifling air cooled and wind whispered
through tall sugar cane grasses,
and the setting sun painted the pond pink,
featuring silhouettes of pecan trees,
Uncle Billy and I sat at the end of the pier
with an open tackle box at our feet.
From his wheelchair, his helpless arms in his lap,
his gravelly voice instructed me
on how to pierce the eye socket
of the bait fish with the barb of the hook,
while I squealed in disgust and protest.
While we waited with line in water,
he told me the story of Evangeline,
a fictional woman Longfellow immortalized
in an epic poem and became an icon
of Cajun culture. She lost her lover
during the Expulsion of the Acadians
in Canada. A gnarled oak in St. Martinville
bears a sign, “Evangeline Oak,”
the meeting place of the rumored
real couple, Emmeline and Luis.
And he told of the old alligator
that washed up into his pond
after Katrina. It took three of his friends,
a wire box trap and a raw chicken
to get him out and transfer him
to a home better suited in the swamp.
Which reminded him of his favorite quote,
“When you’re up to your armpits in alligators,
you forget about draining the swamp.”
Which led me to a quote of my own,
“When you’re up to your elbows in fish guts,
you forget about eating dinner.”
But I had to admit,
the trout, brim, and sackalay were quite tasty.
