A Galveston Fish Tale - The Fish that Didn't Get away

Matt shows off 3 huge red fish and a speckled trout, summer of 1999, Galveston

We've all seen images over the past few days of the damage hurricane Ike has imposed upon Galveston and the Texas/Louisiana Gulf Coast. I have watched the media coverage via the web very closely. Brief phone messages from my dad report that all is OK at their house in Houston (power and phone lines out, but no flooding in the house.)

As I sit and watch various media reports about the devastation around Galveston, my mind is flooded with memories from the various places they report as damaged and destroyed. I thought in light of all that is now gone, I would share a Galveston memory of happier times. You see, this is the place where Matt and I would go on many a weekend to get away from the city. We have spent time there at the beach, as well as in the bay with our canoe catching red fish.

Simpler times, one might say. The times when I was falling in love with the man who would become my husband, and later as a newly weds out looking for a place to relax and unwind.

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I am always so taken with the photo above, as it will forever define my concept of the sport of fishing -- catching, that is. On this particular weekend, Matt and I were fortunate to have a friend and colleague loan out to us the use of her second home in Galveston. As you might be able to tell from the picture, the house was elevated up on beams and the ground floor was simply the car park area with a door leading to stairs on the second level. As an aside, I feel certain this house may well be gone. It is on the still flooded West end the media tells us is still unreachable.

On this particular day back in 1999, we paddled our canoe up through various canals and out into the Bay of Galveston, which is the area between Galveston and the main land. We canoed in a shallow area, sometimes a foot at most, and saw water brimming with red fish. I can clearly remember seeing that distinctive red mark on the tail just flipping through the water like the water was so alive. And the thrill of watching Matt land each of those fish was just so much fun -- they put up quite a fight and make for true victory when finally brought on board. What a workout!

And I recall the drag of these 4 particular fish in the water as we paddled for almost an hour to get back up the canals to our docking area (we had them on a line in the water back behind the boat.) I wondered how four fish could possibly make it so hard to paddle our lil' red canoe, but boy howdy (as we would have said) did they ever!

In future fishing trips we were never able to replicate our fishing success -- maybe it was the tide or just plain luck, but we never had that same success. But you can imagine in my mind I knew it was possible, so we kept on trying over the course of many, many weekends.

We were last in Galveston briefly this past March as we drove down while Colin napped in the car. And some day we hope to take him back there for red fish "catching." Someday.

But for now, our prayers go out to those in Galveston who are all left with nothing but memories.