FISH CATCHING TRAVEL

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GATOR MADNESS!

(Here is the story of the big alligator hunt straight from the horse’s mouth.)

So here’s the short version of the story.

Friday we meet out at his place around 1pm.  It’s a beautiful warm sunny day.  The kind of day we see gators sunning themselves all fall/winter/early spring, but about 20deg warmer.  We make a couple trips around the lake checking known haunts and see nothing.  We realize we don’t really know what gators do when it’s hot outside, but it obviously isn’t lay on the levy.  We hatch a plan to put out some decoy baits.  We hack up a couple of the chicken quarters and hang them off the poles on plain mono about two feet up.  We put out a few around the known haunts and the sites we found sign.  Not more than 15 minutes later we notice a 6 after checking out a drumstick.  Not quite what we’re after.

Having depleted the bait stores, we leave the decoys and round up a couple fresh jackrabbits.  It’s getting near sundown, and we haven’t seen any activity other than a solid 11 incher under the bait around the most sign.  We hoped for increased activity with the cooling temp and made another round of the lake.

We see him as we come up on the opposite side of the lake from all our baits.  He’s hanging out on the opposite side of the canal in the shallow water unintimidated by our movement on the bank.  We estimate he’s about 10′ and set to putting out a bait with a hook.  A full chicken quarter and and a healthy chunk of beef liver with the blood from the bottom of the package poured in the water.  Through all the inexperienced bumbling of two rookies on the bank, he’s come into the canal and is watching us closely about 10′ off the bank with just an eye above water, for some reason not spooked by a couple guys stomping around his lounge.  We feel confident he’s going to eat, so we leave the bait less than a foot off the water, hoping a little guy doesn’t swoop in and take big daddy’s dinner.

We back off to set another hooked bait across the lake.  We go back over to check on biggun and find him with the cane bent over, bait in his mouth, but the line hasn’t released from the slit in the end of the cane.  The shank of the hook is sitting on his nose and he’s sitting there motionless.  I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to get him hooked, so I try to ease down and tip the end of the pole up so the line pulls out the other end so he has some slack to take the bait down.  I get the zip ties holding the pole cut and it drops down, he takes off and takes the line about 5′ with him, but then it goes slack.  The bait is gone and so is he.  Rookie mistake, the line didn’t release easily enough to let him take the bait and swallow it.  We still have a jackrabbit so we quickly half it and get our bait reset.  The legs are hanging just off the water.  The line is wedged in as lightly as possible to still hold a 3lb bait up.  We back off just as the sun sets.  We’re hanging out BSing about 30yds away when we hear the unmistakable cracking of a 15′ bamboo pole being bent over.  We wait a few minutes the ease back over there to find the line off the pole and disappeared into the depths moving quickly down the  canal.  After a little happy dance we head home with plans to meet early the next morning to get the beast pulled up and get on with our duties for the day.

I asked the brother in law if he wants to tag along, and he gladly joins to avoid a morning of dress shopping with the wives and daughter.  Excitement is high as we head off down the 60 mile route back to lizard town.  A quick stop at whataburger for some breakfast and when we get back in the truck to turn the key, nothing.  The starter whirs, but there’s no cranking.  Crap.  We’ve been threatened with death if we don’t make it home in time for a family portrait sitting this evening.  Luckily there’s a Napa a half mile down the road and a good samaritan that runs me down there to pick up a new starter.    Luckily they have one so its back to the parking lot to throw it on.  As I have always done, I connect the wires first, then go to twist it up into place.  Apparently they don’t make solenoids like they used to and the whole area around the post breaks and twists off.  Wonderful.  So it’s back to napa to buy a second starter, because apparently if it breaks there, the warranty is void.  Get back and get it bolted up and get greeted shortly by the sweet purr of a 7.3.

Made it back to the ranch and find the gator still solidly hooked hanging out in the same spot we first saw him.  He rolls of into the deep water as we approach.  Through no small amount of pulling and wondering when he’s going to launch at us quicker than we can climb the levy, we have a giant head at waters edge.  It’s covered in lily pad and cane and impossible to tell exactly where to shoot.  I throw a loop of line around the post and my buddy sets off to find a stick to try to clear off the debris.  Big guy hasn’t been trashing at all, until I threw that loop and left him with about 6′ of line.  I was sure he was going to pull that hook.  Luckily it held and he had cleared off his lily pad hat for us.  I lined up and put one behind his skull looking straight at him.  He went immediately limp and we stood there for a second waiting for the mayhem.  He just sank.  We pulled him up as far as we could and realized how huge he really was.  We also realized he didn’t have the required blood pumping and he was starting to writhe a little, so I put a few more in until the blood pumped.  There’s a 6ft levy behind us and there’s no way we’re pulling him up that without the tractor.  We get him up to the top and try getting him into the truck with three guys and a girlfriend.  Ha.  Not happening.  We tried everything we could think of, but without some machinery, no way.  Thank God we were able to recruit some friends of cousins and four high school football players.  That made it a quick lift and slide and off to the taxidermist.

Don’t worry, we made it home in time for pictures.

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Glad you made it home on time.  I am not sure which is worse, a 12′ angry gator or a pissed off wife.  But really Chris, thanks a lot for taking the time to tell us the whole story. For a couple of rooks looks like you did just fine and nobody but the gator died.  Funny how a couple of .357 holes in the head seems to quite the down.  That must have been all it was cracked up to be.  So congratulations to Chris and Clay for what had to be a bucket list moment.

And from the Shoedog:   Way to go Chris!

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Folks I love letting you tell your stories here.  It is not near as hard as you might think and we don’t care if you are not Earnest Hemingway when you write, we just love to hear your stories and see your pictures.  So if you ever feel the need to wax poetic drop a comment and I will let you know how to get pictures to me.  Thanks again Chris, great story.

As you read this I am on the lake.  I can honestly say this wind is almost depressing me.  It would be the Gulf but it supposed to blow 15 – 25 today with higher gusts, then 20 – 30 on Tuesday.  But May is on the way and the winds will start to die and it will be back to the bay. So if it is that rough the lake it is.  So keep stopping in and thanks for reading my stuff.

Good Luck and Tight Lines