An Old Man And The Sea

“Perhaps I should not have been a fisherman, he thought. But that was the thing that I was born for.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

I have to admit, that I have never considered not being a fisherman, and as Ernie said, "that was the thing that I was born for." Nothing replaces time spent on the water. This morning, I read the Hemingway quote and it made me think of all the wonderful antidotes and sayings about fishermen, so I thought I would beg the reader's indulgence and share a few.

May the holes in your net be no larger than the fish in it. ~Irish Blessing
There is certainly something in angling that tends to produce a serenity of the mind. ~Washington Irving

If people concentrated on the really important things in life, there'd be a shortage of fishing poles. ~Doug Larson
I love fishing. You put that line in the water and you don't know what's on the other end. Your imagination is under there. ~Robert Altman

 Three-fourths of the Earth's surface is water, and one-fourth is land. It is quite clear that the good Lord intended us to spend triple the amount of time fishing as taking care of the lawn. ~Chuck Clark

You cannot catch trout with dry breeches. ~Spanish Proverb

Scholars have long known that fishing eventually turns men into philosophers. Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to buy decent tackle on a philosopher's salary. ~Patrick F. McManus

Men and fish are alike. They both get into trouble when they open their mouths. ~Author Unknown
There will be days when the fishing is better than one's most optimistic forecast, others when it is far worse. Either is a gain over just staying home. ~Roderick Haig-Brown, Fisherman's Spring, 1951

These are just a few of my favorites, and the list could go on and on. Most anyone who knows me, knows of my love of the water. Be it a river, a lake, a swamp, or my beloved ocean, I hope to never be far from it for very long.  
Yesterday the sea was calm and the sky was blue, and it was a beautiful soul restoring day on the sea, and in the backwaters. The sea teaches you something every time you venture forth upon it's waters, and yesterday afternoon was no exception. A crack of thunder and a far bolt of lightning signaled that it was the appropriate time for our return to the hill. Only one thing stood between us and the truck, and I will show you that in the following picture.

Yep, behind that wall of rain is the boat ramp. Nothing like a cool, stinging rain squall to go through on the way in. Lesson? Well in retrospect maybe we stayed out fifteen minutes too long, maybe we should have stayed put and let the squall pass. Don't know, because neither of those things is what we chose, instead we pushed right through the chop, and the stinging rain and made it safely in.

One of the keepsakes that reside upon my desk is an antique paper weight that Belinda gave to me years ago before one of my long deployments. It contains in cased in glass an Old Breton Fisherman's Prayer, that goes like this: "Dear God be good to me; The sea is so wide, And my boat is so small." Most likely my favorite fishing quote, and one that I leave you to ponder.

Old Captain Sends.  

The Desk, The Writer, And The Weather

A leisurely start to the Saturday here at the shack, between the swamp and the sea. All young adult males made it in safe from all Friday night activities, and the stage was set for sleeping in, and by that it normally means around 0800. Got up, made coffee, feed red dog, and the cats, drank too much coffee, now bouncing of the walls, have decided to clean off desk and return it to a usable form. Have also decided it might help my writing motivation to pick up.  Read Bible verse for inspiration Matthew 19: 14, posted by a friend feeling sad, deep thoughts, and feeling grateful, back to desk.

NO. First more thought about writing, read this: "Writers aren't exactly people...They're a whole bunch of people trying to be one person." F. Scott Fitzgerald. Now wondering why even worry about writing. Read a short story from Gene Hill also, written about a bird dog, now feel the need to pet Woody, then get to the desk.

At some point after 1000, two young adult males roll out of bed and invade the den. At this point it should be added, that some desk straighting has occurred, but now progress stalls as we all parlay and catch up on shedules, and the like. Sometime around noon the two young adult males announce an expedition of bike riding through the refuge, I am asked "You are going to go with us aren't you?"
Think about this, NO, its 90 plus degrees and the humidity is around 70%. It will storm later, and besides that the yellow flies will be terrible. So, no not going, Getting back at that desk.

I can now see the color of the wood on top of the desk. I have burned some useless paperwork and files, and have started to organize things into neater piles. Not so sure that actually qualifies as cleaning yet, oh well, hungry need a sandwich sit down for a moment and rest, then get back on the desk.

May have made fatal error, turned on TV to check weather, there is a very good movie on, "The Wild Geese". As stated may be in trouble now, but  must say at least I can set in the desk chair now, and there is only one fishing vest hanging on it. Will get back to the desk later.

1445, The storm is building over the river, two young adult males still on bicycle trek through the swamp, they are going to get wet. This movie is really good, Richard Burton, Roger Moore, Richard Harris, playing mercenaries. Desk is waiting but not forgotten. Thunder is rumbling in the distance.

1530, Frog drowning rain. Two young adult males have returned just in front of rain. Mark got good pictures of baby gators, and still has all his fingers and toes. The desk now has a workable area, and I have uncovered things I thought were lost to the ages. Beginning to regret this desk cleaning  Mission though its taking all day.

OK, calling it quits, enough is enough for one day,

Old Capt Sends.












  

About Sailors

 

WHEN GOD CREATED THE SAILOR!

God created the heavens and the earth, man and woman and He said that this was good. Man ruled over the earth, but something was missing... this man was good,but God felt the earth needed something more. It needed a man who could rule the earth and tame the waters.

God molded this "special" man's body. Strong and secure. He knew this man needed an arm long enough to reach across oceans and countries. God gave him tough hands meant for handling guns, flying planes, and doing push-ups at the drop of a hat. Yet He made his hands soft and gentle for holding his baby, hugging his mother and caressing the cheek of his wife.
...
This man's heart- his most important detail. God molded it with care and gave him a strong heart. Strong enough to endure loneliness and separation. Strong enough to leave the ones he loves. The heart to kill whether its right or wrong.

The Lord also blessed this man with a brain. A brain to outsmart the enemy, devise new weapons, remember to call his mother, remember his anniversary and how many push-ups he had left... all at the same time.

God also made him a great speaker and a talented writer- his only communication home. This man is also a good listener and a friend... especially to those just like him. God had big plans for this "special" man. He wanted to make more... many more of this man who can do anything. This man who tames the waters and sails in ships. This man who sails in ships... God stepped back to admire his newest creation... this man who sails ships............this SAILOR!

Yellow Flies!

This just posted from my friends at the refuge, a picture of a true yellow fly.

 

 

They’re quiet. They’re big. They’re fierce. And they’re BAAAACCKKK! They’re YELLOW FLIES! (Insert melodramatic music here.) All year their larval selves have been quietly munching on decaying vegetation in and near the swamp waters, and then pupating until the weather was hot and sticky enough. Now these winged terrors await the unsuspecting visitor or critter for their blood meal.

As with ‘skeeters, only the females draw blood. The good thing is they often give you time to swat them while they contemplate their meal on your skin. The bad thing is that bug repellent is only moderately successful. They are attracted to blue and black moving objects, so watch your wardrobe. Long-sleeved and breathable khaki or light colored clothing is your best bet. They also prefer shady, wind-free areas, and will follow you inside buildings. But unlike ‘skeeters, they don’t bother you at night.

So if you’re visiting Okefenokee during Yellow Fly Season, suit up and prepare for battle! Don’t let them keep you from that boat tour or hike. Don’t let these terrorists win!
Photo Cindy McIntyre USFWS

After the Deluge

Our first storm is weathered, clean up has begun, and the weather turns hot with a pattern of afternoon showers just to keep us on our toes. All the so called experts say that we will indeed, have an above average active hurricane season. They say this every year, so sooner or later they'll be right. You can't fight it you just have to roll with it, with the rain the mosquitoes and yellow flies will be worse, the danger of forest fire will be lower.

Fishing has fallen into the doldrums, and I find myself fine tuning weapons for fall and looking forward to restocking the freezer. I also have thoughts of the islands and bone fish on the fly, the endless flats of Andros and the empty beaches where one might run around in Gods natural bathing attire, if so inclined. I re-read the writings of Hemingway, as I think of the busy crowd and drinking with close friends on Duval street, in the old town of Key West. A place where music is still performed live and troubadours ply their songs over beat up guitars, while sitting on a bar stools. I think that somewhere, there maybe someone, just waiting for me to read some of Ernie's best stories to, in some quiet well lighted place.  The reality though is siesta time is almost over here between the swamp and the sea, and I need to stop daydreaming of desire and turn my efforts back to storm clean up, and destroying the launching areas for the next mosquito hatch, I saw one the other day that had USN written on its body and blood dripping from its beak.

So, with that I close, a very worrisome red dog and I are about to brave the jungle of our yard and seek adventure.

Old Capt Sends

June 6, D-Day

As I sit here between the swamp and the sea watching the rain come down from our first tropical storm of this young hurricane season, I think of the storms on the beaches of Normandy sixty nine years ago today. Almost 2 years to the day since of our Navy turned the tide against Japan at Midway, the largest armada of vessels ever assembled, for the largest amphibious assault ever, took the battle against the Third Reich to the European mainland.
Nothing that I can write at this point can do justice to those brave men who stormed those beaches. In my life time I have had the honor of knowing a few of these men, some who are still among us. They returned home after thee war to a changed world. They lived good lives, and never asked for any special recognition. For after all it is a tribute to the fallen to live well, and as long as we remember them they are never really gone. They have just moved on the next duty station, and now serve only with the best.

Ronald Reagan's speech at Normandy on the 40th anniversary of D - Day I think summed it up best.


We're here to mark that day in history when the Allied armies joined in battle to reclaim this continent to liberty. For 4 long years, much of Europe had been under a terrible shadow. Free nations had fallen, Jews cried out in the camps, millions cried out for liberation. Europe was enslaved, and the world prayed for its rescue. Here in Normandy the rescue began. Here the Allies stood and fought against tyranny in a giant undertaking unparalleled in human history.

We stand on a lonely, windswept point on the northern shore of France. The air is soft, but 40 years ago at this moment, the air was dense with smoke and the cries of men, and the air was filled with the crack of rifle fire and the roar of cannon. At dawn, on the morning of the 6th of June, 1944, 225 Rangers jumped off the British landing craft and ran to the bottom of these cliffs. Their mission was one of the most difficult and daring of the invasion: to climb these sheer and desolate cliffs and take out the enemy guns. The Allies had been told that some of the mightiest of these guns were here and they would be trained on the beaches to stop the Allied advance.

The Rangers looked up and saw the enemy soldiers -- the edge of the cliffs shooting down at them with machineguns and throwing grenades. And the American Rangers began to climb. They shot rope ladders over the face of these cliffs and began to pull themselves up. When one Ranger fell, another would take his place. When one rope was cut, a Ranger would grab another and begin his climb again. They climbed, shot back, and held their footing. Soon, one by one, the Rangers pulled themselves over the top, and in seizing the firm land at the top of these cliffs, they began to seize back the continent of Europe. Two hundred and twenty-five came here. After 2 days of fighting, only 90 could still bear arms.

Behind me is a memorial that symbolizes the Ranger daggers that were thrust into the top of these cliffs. And before me are the men who put them there.

These are the boys of Pointe du Hoc. These are the men who took the cliffs. These are the champions who helped free a continent. These are the heroes who helped end a war.

Gentlemen, I look at you and I think of the words of Stephen Spender's poem. You are men who in your ``lives fought for life . . . and left the vivid air signed with your honor.''

I think I know what you may be thinking right now -- thinking ``we were just part of a bigger effort; everyone was brave that day.'' Well, everyone was. Do you remember the story of Bill Millin of the 51st Highlanders? Forty years ago today, British troops were pinned down near a bridge, waiting desperately for help. Suddenly, they heard the sound of bagpipes, and some thought they were dreaming. Well, they weren't. They looked up and saw Bill Millin with his bagpipes, leading the reinforcements and ignoring the smack of the bullets into the ground around him.

Lord Lovat was with him -- Lord Lovat of Scotland, who calmly announced when he got to the bridge, ``Sorry I'm a few minutes late,'' as if he'd been delayed by a traffic jam, when in truth he'd just come from the bloody fighting on Sword Beach, which he and his men had just taken.

There was the impossible valor of the Poles who threw themselves between the enemy and the rest of Europe as the invasion took hold, and the unsurpassed courage of the Canadians who had already seen the horrors of war on this coast. They knew what awaited them there, but they would not be deterred. And once they hit Juno Beach, they never looked back.

All of these men were part of a rollcall of honor with names that spoke of a pride as bright as the colors they bore: the Royal Winnipeg Rifles, Poland's 24th Lancers, the Royal Scots Fusiliers, the Screaming Eagles, the Yeomen of England's armored divisions, the forces of Free France, the Coast Guard's ``Matchbox Fleet'' and you, the American Rangers.

Forty summers have passed since the battle that you fought here. You were young the day you took these cliffs; some of you were hardly more than boys, with the deepest joys of life before you. Yet, you risked everything here. Why? Why did you do it? What impelled you to put aside the instinct for self-preservation and risk your lives to take these cliffs? What inspired all the men of the armies that met here? We look at you, and somehow we know the answer. It was faith and belief; it was loyalty and love.

The men of Normandy had faith that what they were doing was right, faith that they fought for all humanity, faith that a just God would grant them mercy on this beachhead or on the next. It was the deep knowledge -- and pray God we have not lost it -- that there is a profound, moral difference between the use of force for liberation and the use of force for conquest. You were here to liberate, not to conquer, and so you and those others did not doubt your cause. And you were right not to doubt.

You all knew that some things are worth dying for. One's country is worth dying for, and democracy is worth dying for, because it's the most deeply honorable form of government ever devised by man. All of you loved liberty. All of you were willing to fight tyranny, and you knew the people of your countries were behind you.

The Americans who fought here that morning knew word of the invasion was spreading through the darkness back home. They fought -- or felt in their hearts, though they couldn't know in fact, that in Georgia they were filling the churches at 4 a.m., in Kansas they were kneeling on their porches and praying, and in Philadelphia they were ringing the Liberty Bell.

Something else helped the men of D-day: their rockhard belief that Providence would have a great hand in the events that would unfold here; that God was an ally in this great cause. And so, the night before the invasion, when Colonel Wolverton asked his parachute troops to kneel with him in prayer he told them: Do not bow your heads, but look up so you can see God and ask His blessing in what we're about to do. Also that night, General Matthew Ridgway on his cot, listening in the darkness for the promise God made to Joshua: ``I will not fail thee nor forsake thee.''

These are the things that impelled them; these are the things that shaped the unity of the Allies.

When the war was over, there were lives to be rebuilt and governments to be returned to the people. There were nations to be reborn. Above all, there was a new peace to be assured. These were huge and daunting tasks. But the Allies summoned strength from the faith, belief, loyalty, and love of those who fell here. They rebuilt a new Europe together.

There was first a great reconciliation among those who had been enemies, all of whom had suffered so greatly. The United States did its part, creating the Marshall plan to help rebuild our allies and our former enemies. The Marshall plan led to the Atlantic alliance -- a great alliance that serves to this day as our shield for freedom, for prosperity, and for peace.

In spite of our great efforts and successes, not all that followed the end of the war was happy or planned. Some liberated countries were lost. The great sadness of this loss echoes down to our own time in the streets of Warsaw, Prague, and East Berlin. Soviet troops that came to the center of this continent did not leave when peace came. They're still there, uninvited, unwanted, unyielding, almost 40 years after the war. Because of this, allied forces still stand on this continent. Today, as 40 years ago, our armies are here for only one purpose -- to protect and defend democracy. The only territories we hold are memorials like this one and graveyards where our heroes rest.

We in America have learned bitter lessons from two World Wars: It is better to be here ready to protect the peace, than to take blind shelter across the sea, rushing to respond only after freedom is lost. We've learned that isolationism never was and never will be an acceptable response to tyrannical governments with an expansionist intent.

But we try always to be prepared for peace; prepared to deter aggression; prepared to negotiate the reduction of arms; and, yes, prepared to reach out again in the spirit of reconciliation. In truth, there is no reconciliation we would welcome more than a reconciliation with the Soviet Union, so, together, we can lessen the risks of war, now and forever.

It's fitting to remember here the great losses also suffered by the Russian people during World War II: 20 million perished, a terrible price that testifies to all the world the necessity of ending war. I tell you from my heart that we in the United States do not want war. We want to wipe from the face of the Earth the terrible weapons that man now has in his hands. And I tell you, we are ready to seize that beachhead. We look for some sign from the Soviet Union that they are willing to move forward, that they share our desire and love for peace, and that they will give up the ways of conquest. There must be a changing there that will allow us to turn our hope into action.

We will pray forever that some day that changing will come. But for now, particularly today, it is good and fitting to renew our commitment to each other, to our freedom, and to the alliance that protects it.

We are bound today by what bound us 40 years ago, the same loyalties, traditions, and beliefs. We're bound by reality. The strength of America's allies is vital to the United States, and the American security guarantee is essential to the continued freedom of Europe's democracies. We were with you then; we are with you now. Your hopes are our hopes, and your destiny is our destiny.

Here, in this place where the West held together, let us make a vow to our dead. Let us show them by our actions that we understand what they died for. Let our actions say to them the words for which Matthew Ridgway listened: ``I will not fail thee nor forsake thee.''

Strengthened by their courage, heartened by their value [valor], and borne by their memory, let us continue to stand for the ideals for which they lived and died.

Thank you very much, and God bless you all.

President Ronald Reagan - June 6, 1984

Old Capt sends