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Troy Thompson is the wild card. I don't know how he does it but he always gets the biggest fish? Is it luck? Is it the way he holds his mouth? Who knows but he consistently does it. That's why we hate him. But we never have to worry about being skunked. Troy has developed a unique fish calling technique. That's right, he can actually call up the fish. He uses a blend of jalapeno vienna weenies, chicken bones and "Here, fishy fishy fishy..."
Here is his story:
My Redneck Escapades
As a senior member of the Dark Island Fishing Team, I have experienced many great adventures on Captain Pete's Contender, but nothing beats some of my recent escapades on Dark Island.
Some may consider this a real "redneck story," but I will share it anyway. I went for my afternoon walk down the Dark Island road on Monday afternoon, Sept 29, when I noticed a swirl in a pool of water in the marsh alongside the road. I studied the situation for a minute or two and decided it wasn't a shark (due to the lack of a large dorsal fin). It was getting to be supper time, and I was hungry.
Excitement took over and I moved at a brisk pace back to the house, where I put on my "Dark Island" Nikes (dark brown rubber boots instead of the white ones), grabbed a five-gallon bucket, my speargun (just in case) and took the truck back to the spot.
I was relieved to see that the fish was still there. I really thought it was a large trout or redfish, but I could not tell for sure due to the water being all muddied up from the fish moving around in the shallow murky saltwater marsh. It was now time to get supper. I carefully crept into the water with my long-handled landing net, fully expecting this to be an easy battle because the water was knee deep and the water hole was only about four feet wide and about 10 feet long.
All of the sudden the water exploded! I found myself covered with water and mud... This fish was ferocious and apparently a little bit bigger than I originally thought, prompting me to abandon the dip net idea.
The fish was now running against my legs as I was trying to grab him. I grabbed it by the tail one time... that was a big mistake. Another time, I grabbed at him and he cut me across three knuckles. Now I knew he was coming to the hill!
Finally I stood very still and waited for the fish to calm down. I grabbed my speargun and shouted "He's going down."
It was then I realized I had wrestled with a 50=pound Cobia that would end up measuring 57 inches overall. What a battle!
I've had some other very interesting "redneck escapades" during my years living on Dark Island. Among them is the time that I caught a 22-inch redfish with my bare hands (in a situation similar to the Cobia-wrasslin' event).
Another time I was removing a rock from our little canal at low tide when I spotted a nice, legal-size flounder scooting away from me. I had my garden hoe and used it to "distract" him long enough for me to grab a hold of him.
Then there was the time I went fishing and caught a deer. I guess this needs a little explaining. The deer was disoriented and swimming in the water inthe fog about a quarter-mile offshore.
My son, son-in-law and I pulled the boat alongside the wrestled it into the boat before releasing her back on shore. This was especially fun because my brother-in-law Glenn went hunting in Georgia over the weekend. When I saw him next, I asked if he had killed anything (of course he had not). That's when I explained how I went fishing and caught a deer. Naturally, he didn't believe me, and I had to bring in my witnesses.
It just goes to show you what I've been trying to convince my neighbor Hugh of four years: You don't need a rod and reel to catch fish or a gun to bag a deer. He is starting to buy in and has asked for some pointers, but I have told him I don't come cheap.
