St. Lawrence River to make the attack on the "fresh water barracuda",
more commonly known as the Muskellunge, the grandaddy of the
pike family that many seek, but few are able to land.
Now, I alone......., CODY DOUGLAS, was brave (?) enough to travel
150 miles on Interstate 81 with the likes of Slim, Corncob and the
infamous, but rarely boring, Skeezik McCoy.
As I drove the van I looked over at Skeezik sort of daydreaming away.
"Don't git no better 'n this, does it Cody?" he said.
"Nope." I replied. "It sure don't."
Finishing his can of beer he tossed it into the back of the van. THUD!!
"Hey! Watch it, ya lamebrained idiot!" yelled Slim.
"Ya just bounced that can off the side o' my head. I told ya we
oughta left that half-wit home for a change, Cody. Havin' that low
IQ' along makes about as much sense as takin' a Rhode Island Red
to the swimmin' hole."
"Yeah!" hollered Corncob. "Not ta mention that I caught all the backwash
up side o' my face."
"Oh sure," Skeezik replied. "like I'm the one that's stupid. If you think
I'm stupid you oughta see my brother, he's bent way over.
Besides, if you guys had any brains you'd realize that was all planned
ahead o' time. I was aimin' to ricochet off ol' Slim's head into that box.
Figured it was a good 'nuff shot too.
The backwash in yer face, Corncob, wasn't planned. It was the good Lord's
way of gettin' some o' that dirt off yer face so he could recognize ya."
Skeezik laughed while he opened another beer and the boys fumed.
Now as Corncob leaped forward to choke the life out of Skeezik he
bumped into my shoulder and made me veer to the side, almost in
front of a passing car.
"Hey! Sit down before ya git us all killed!" I yelled.
"Ok." answered Corncob. "But, when we git there I'm gonna wash
Skeezik's face about eight inches under the river, and it won't take only
about an hour or so under water to have yer face nice and white."
An hour or so later and a couple more beers and everyone was happy
again as we arrived and began to unload our gear. Before long we
had the boat loaded and were leaving the dock for mid- river.
"Well," Skeezik said. "I understand it takes the amateur about 100 hours
to git a Musky. That means I should have one in the boat in about four
or five minutes."
"Yeah, right." Corncob laughed. "That means you should have one in
the boat in about four or five months. Ah ha ha!"
"Shut up, crayfish fingers, you don't even know which way
to crank the reel." Skeezik taunted.
"Clam up Skeezik and take this rod." Slim ordered. "It's down about 70
feet with a large minnow lure. I gotta fix this other rod fer Corncob."
"Well, ya better, " replied Skeezik. "He's apt to put a piece of that stale
Cornbeef sandwich on the hook and kill every fish in the river clear on
up to Nova Scotia."
"Yer right about one thing," I said. "....it don't git no better 'n drivin' a
boat and listenin' to you two three-watts hecklin' away all the time.
Just then Skeezik gave a yank. "I got one! Man I can tell by the feel this
is a monster."
"Go it easy, fool!" yelled Slim.
"I guess yer forgettin' I'm the one that taught you how to
catch King Salmon." Skeezik torted.
"You mush-brained termite," Slim squawked. "you couldn't teach a toy
duck to float in the bathtub."
"BULL!" cried Skeezik as he reeled and pulled. "Mine floated in my tub as
soon as I put it in."
Corncob laughed and almost choked on his cornbeef.
"Grab the net!" Skeezik yelled. "The first Musky is about to come
on the boat."
"Ain't no Musky." Slim said. "You only been a- fightin' fer five
or six minutes."
"May not be a giant, and it's comin' in heavy, but light on the fight, but it's a
Musky, I can tell."
Soon it was alongside the boat and ol' Slim reached over and boated
it with little effort and he and Corncob were patting each other on
the back in hysteric laughter.
"Look, Cody!" Slim laughed. "The half-wit caught hisself a set of swim
fins and mask someone lost off their boat. HA! What a top notch angler
if ever I knowed one."
"Shuttup, Rappala face. Maybe you otta wear this mask so somebody
could concentrate on fishin'."
Just then the live bait rod went crazy and Corncob grabbed it away
from Slim.
"Gimme that." Corncob yelled. "I need ta catch me a new pair
of hip boots."
"You idiot," Slim replied. "You better not lose it or I'll use your left ear
for bait on the next one."
Well for a minute it seemed like bottom, then that line took off at about
the rate of 3,527.8 feet per second.
"Run you barracuda-faced line stealer. I got ya!"
That's when Corncob took one step backwards and tripped on the beer
cooler and landed flat on his back as Skeezik, in the same instant,
snatched the rod from his hand.
"Go ahead and take a nap, Corncob." Skeezik chuckled. "I'll take this
devil awhile."
The fight went on for 15 or 20 minutes then the big fish headed straight
back for the boat. Skeezik walked the rod around the back end of the
boat and skidded on the remains of Corncobs greasy sandwich.
Both arms went in the air as Slim caught hold of the rod and, yes,
poor ol' Skeezik went right on overboard.
"Grab this Skeezik!" Corncob yelled as he tossed over the life-saver.
"We'll come back for you tomorrow. HA! HA!"
"Swing to the left, Cody." Slim hollered.
"He's headed back around and he's a fighter." "Hang on Skeezik." yelled
Corncob. "We're comin' around."
Well that fish was definitely making a big swing. Soon we were out wide
and the fish was headed straight for Skeezik. Although, how deep he was
we didn't know for sure.
"Keep an eye out, Skeezik!" yelled Slim. "I think he's headed yer way."
Well that was enough to scare Skeezik half to death. To me there's
nothing funnier than watching someone trying to STAND UPRIGHT
on a life- preserver.
"HELP! HELP!" Skeezik screamed. "It's comin' fer me. It's tryin' ta eat
ma legs!"
"Shutup, you fool." yelled Slim. "He ain't eatin' them skinny little things."
By then we'd come upon him again. After about ten minutes in the
St. Lawrence River, a bobbing, screaming idiot called Skeezik was
gently gafted around the head with a large net by the infallible Corncob
and was being dragged aboard by the ears.
Meanwhile, Slim was making great progress on a fish the three
of them had wrestled in total for about an hour.
"Git his ears outa that net!" Slim ordered. "This monster is almost
to the boat."
Of course nobody wanted to see this fish get away and as Slim glided
the tired Musky up to the boat, Skeezik came with a net from the
left and Corncob came with a net from the right. I'd kicked the boat
into neutral and was headed back. It was a good thing. Skeezik and
Corncob swiped with their nets at the same time. Both nets came out
of the water empty and took ol' Slim square in the face, sending all
three of them sprawling on their backs on the deck in the same instant
that I sunk a gaft hook into the big feller's gills.
"Git up you idiots and give me a hand 'fore it's too late." I yelled.
In no time at all we'd yanked that big Musky on board.
Back on shore we found ourselves with a 64 inch long,
58 1/2 pound Muskellunge. It was the only one we even had hold of
in two full days of trying, but it was worth it.
On the treacherous journey back down Interstate 81 there wasn't an
awful lot said; but it was said over and over and over and over.........
"I CAUGHT IT!"
"NO, I CAUGHT IT!"
"NO, I CAUGHT IT!"
"NO, I CAUGHT IT!"
Kinda made me wonder if I should take these yokels out in the big woods on a......... huntin' trip.!!