Glenn Dickens and his buddy Bo Warren felt like going fishing last Saturday. They were one and one-half miles offshore in the Chesapeake, trolling for stripers in 80 feet of water.
The fish weren't biting.
Trolling is lazy work. Overcast skies don't keep the heat away, and after a couple of hours staring at the water and the horizon--and no fish biting--you can begin to see things that don't really exist.
Glenn didn't mention what sort of beverages they had on the boat, but he did say that the fish weren't biting.
I'm thinking the boys were sort of bored. Then they saw it. You can see it too, if you look closely. They couldn't quite make it out. Garbage? A seal? It was moving, but just barely. Motoring on over to check it out, they found a young buck, struggling to keep his head above water.
Glenn said he's seen deer swimming before, and the first thing you notice is how strong they are in the water. Not this one. It looked to Glenn and Bo as if the poor guy had been swimming all night.
The boat looked like possible sanctuary to the deer, and he swam toward it as it approached. Bo and Glenn didn't look so good to the buck, though, and it turned away.
I know I'd like Bo for sure. Glenn says Bo grew up around cows, and today that was going to come in mighty handy. One thing you learn around cows is how to to rope 'em when it's branding time.
Bo did the honors, according to Glenn. "Bo grabbed his neck, I grabbed the flank, and we barreled over backwards into the boat."
"Before I knew it, Bo was on top of him and had him tied up just like a calf."
You have to understand that deer hooves are small, pointed and sharp. To prove my point, I'd like you to know that back in the 1980s, a BMW was found wrecked in the New Jersey Pine Barrens.
The driver hit a deer; it crashed through the windshield into the passenger compartment, kicked in desperation, and killed the woman.
Which brings us back to Bo's cattleman skills. He hog-tied that little buck like a calf at rodeo. If you look closely, you see that he gave the rope a few extra turns. I would have too.
Kent Point was the closest place to land the little buck, which was so exhausted that he didn't put up a fuss.
"The whole time," Glenn said, "we kept thinking he was going to kick the snot out of us. He never did though; he was totally spent." With the deer safely on terra firma, Glenn and Bo headed back out to the fishing grounds. I never did find out whether they caught any Stripers.
I just emailed Glenn about this post. Maybe we'll find out. Maryland striped bass are sure tasty!
I'm Mike in Tucson, your preferred Tucson, AZ mortgage lender.
Joan, they released him on Kent point. Thanks for visiting.
Comments(6)