Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walking (1966)

These Boots Are Made For..........

I have a very close friend who God bless her, loves to send me pictures of very sexy high heel shoes, that she loves. Now just to be clear I don't have any special affinity for shoes, but I do enjoy her pictures. I got to thinking about way back when I lived in the Philippine Islands and a gentleman named Marcos happened to be in charge of things there. He had a wife by the name of Imelda, and I think she made Guinness Book for owning the worlds largest shoe collection. In a country where most of the population were either barefoot or wearing rubber flip flops this was not such a special thing, but I digress.

I was straighting up the back porch today, my equivalent of a mud room, and was almost overcome with the amount of boots that I own.  The boots that I do own are absolutely necessary for everything I do. I have work boots that have steel toes, so that I don't mash my toes off with heavy stuff, I have boots that a snake can't bite through to turkey hunt in. I have boots to walk in the swamp and hunt in, I have chest high boots to duck hunt in. I have white boots to wear while I fish, I have slick sole cowboy boots made to dance the two-step in, and I even have boots that still have dog tags attached in the laces, from when I was in the Navy. I also have boots that didn't make the picture, that are in the garage. Some of them leak and I keep meaning to patch them, but they are all mine and each have their purpose.

Maybe I do have a boot fetish. I really don't think so, it just takes a lot of boots to be an Old Captain between the swamp and the sea. I started wearing boots many years ago when I was growing up in the red dirt country. I read the stories of Jack O'Connor and Gene Hill, and longed to be a great outdoors man. I also spent many hours in hunting camps and around camp fires with members of the "Greatest Generation" who had all come of age wearing boots in the service of our country.

You see I need my boots, and that's just the way it is. I have always had them on in one way or another. In closing I would like to shamelessly plug one of my favorite organizations, The Boot Campaign. They do what they do to support and help of nations Veterans. Please check them out at www.bootcampaign.com  .

As shoes are for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. Ephesians 6:15

Old Captain sends.

Lynyrd Skynyrd - Tuesday's Gone

And still it rains...........

Not a lot of new scuttlebutt from here between the swamp and the sea. The rain has been steady now for well over twenty four hours, while still trying to remain thankful, but at the same time am ready to see a clear sky. I watched a herd of deer feed through the side yard this morning and thought to myself if it keeps on raining, they will probably be trying to get in the house to get dry.

I am thinking that some reading this may not understand what scuttlebutt means, so in an effort to increase your nautical knowledge I offer the following.

 Scuttlebutt The origin of the word scuttlebutt which is nautical parlance for a rumor, comes from a combination of scuttle - to make a hole in the ship's side causing her to sink - and butt - a cask or hogshead used in the days of wooden ships to hold drinking water; thus the term scuttlebutt means a cask with a hole in it. Scuttle; describes what most rumors accomplish if not to the ship, at least to morale. Butt describes the water cask where men naturally congregated, and that is where most rumors get started. The terms galley yarn and mess deck intelligence also mean the spreading of rumors and many of course start on the mess deck. It is the civilian office equivalent of talking around the water cooler.

Now you can throw the word scuttlebutt out there in passing conversation and sound more like a real sailor. Anyway, hope your day is going well. We remained battened down for heavy seas here.
 I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its produce, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit. Leviticus 26:4

Old Captain sends.

And...More Rain

"For the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater," Isaiah 55:10.

There used to be an old television sit-com back in the days when I was young, called My Three Sons. Back when we only had 3 channels and, only in black and white, and felt very lucky to have that. Anyway the show which stared Fred MacMurry, who played a widower with three sons. There was also a character on the show named Uncle Charley played by William Demarest. The character was a hard nosed ex-sailor who lived with Fred and the boys serving as cook, maid, and house keeper in general.

Now as you read this and wonder where this is headed and what does this have to do with fishing, let me assure you, this will not help you catch more fish.  What I am driving at in my stumbling literary style is, that today I associate myself with Uncle Charley. I try very hard to keep a clean house and feed two young adult males. I wash a tremendous amount of laundry, I fold all of it to be stowed away by two young adult males, which sometimes happens and sometimes dosn't. I clean bathrooms, and mop floors and also take care of a big sissy red dog. Being a Navy Master Chief was a lot easier.

I am not complaining and I am thankful for all I have, including two messy young adult males, and I guess the sissy red dog, but I do hope the rain slacks up soon and I am back to more enjoyable endevers. In the mean time it is time to do more laudry, oil fishing reels, cook fish and grits for supper, and to be greatful to share some time with two young adult males.

Old Captain sends.

Allman Brothers / Stormy Monday

Rain, and "All Me Bloomin Life"

It is a rainy, stormy, Monday morning here between the swamp and the sea. A dark dreary kind of day, the kind that can way heavily on my sole. A day for domestic chores, with too much time spent indoors.

I was thinking of responses to questions asked that I had to learn while serving as a member of the canoe club, that is the U.S. Navy for all you land loving folk. Anyway I remember having to learn this poem that had to be repeated back in answer to the question, "how long have you been in the Navy". I now think of this when asked "how long have I been fishing.  Here in short is that poem, and I know that some of my bothers in arms will remember it well.

Question, How long you been in the Navy?

Answer: All me bloomin' life, Sir!
Me mother was a mermaid, me father was King Neptune.
I was born on the crest of a wave and rocked in the cradle of the deep.
Seaweed and barnacles are me clothes.
Every tooth in me head is a marlinspike; the hair on me head is hemp.
Every bone in me body is a spar, and when I spits, I spit tar!
I'se hard, I is, I am, I are!

So here ye now, a bit of nautical lore to ease you through a rainy day.

Old Captain sends.

Retired, and Returned!

I have been to long away from the writing desk. I guess I should list a long list of excuses as to why I gave up on this blog, but what would the point be?

I have now been widowed for over a year, been gone from my beloved Navy for almost a year. It has been a time of trial and of change. I have been blessed with a great support staff of family and friends.

More recently I have returned to fishing and to the water, and having said that, this will be the main topic of my blogs. Fitting since it has consumed most of my thoughts.

I am a Fisherman, perhaps that is what I always was. For over 32 years I was a warrior, and gave up a good many things that were important to me, but now I have returned to the very basics from which I came from. I often quote in my head the poem we had to commit to memory in the Navy, as a reply to how long we had been in, it starts "I was born on the crest of a wave, and rocked in the cradle of the deep". That is me, once old Master Chief, now a humble fisherman.

While at times fishermen may take a hard rap for maybe being known to stretch the truth on catches, or may be accused of turning to hard drink to break up a slow bite, I prefer to put those platitudes aside and remember that when Jesus went looking for help the first people he turned to were fishermen. He knew as I know people who fish work very hard, and find rewards in the simple things, smooth seas, clear sunrise and beautiful sunsets, ducks taking flight in front of an out bound boat, and the rich pleasure of eating fresh of the waters bounty. These are thoughts, that I hope to share on these pages in days to come.

Old Captain sends.