Here’s a piece I wrote last year. It gives a little history into what got me to where I am today. It’s also posted here along with some other articles I wrote over the years.
Whoever said addiction is a bad thing never sat in a plastic boat.
I will be the first to admit I had no idea what I was getting myself into when my hindquarters touched polyethylene for the first time. Little did I know that day would be the planting of a seed. A seed that has been obsessively nurtured into what it has grown to today.
It all began with a simple post on a local kayak fishing forum by my good friend Sam. Leading up to this point Sam and I had been on a mission to find areas where we could throw artificial lures and catch fish. We searched near and far, public and private looking for likely localities. We yearned to become better anglers and catch fish on artificial lures something we had only read about online and in print. He asked a basic question looking for an area where we could wade and hopefully catch a fish or two in the process.
Sam’s plea for help was immediately noticed and met with an overwhelming act of kindness. He received a reply with an offer to loan him a kayak and an open invite to hit the water within minutes, 7 minutes to be exact, after he made the seemingly innocent request for assistance. Sam being the tactful friend that he is refused to leave me stranded on the bank while he paddled off into the sunrise, so he reluctantly decline. Shortly thereafter, he received an additional act of benevolence in the form of another kayak for me, his stranded companion.
Now all Sam needed to do was convince me to come along for the ride. Not an easy task. Sam gave me a call and asked if I would partake in the festivities. After a much hesitation I hastefully agreed to join.
Two days later I shoved myself and kayak off a shoreline that consisted of trampled shell and silt. I had never paddled a craft of any kind, and I never met a single person who we joined on the outing that morning. I would fail to depict an accurate account of the events that transpired if I failed to admit I was nervous and intimidated when we arrived at the launch spot that damp morning. As my paddle blade ruptured the water’s surface for the first time in my existence excitement trumped all other emotions. Not only did these complete strangers not bite, but they were eager to share their expertise and gear with two complete strangers.
The fishing results of that day were irrelevant; everyone had fun with others who shared a common interest: a love for fishing and the outdoors.
I grew up fishing the saline waters around the Galveston Bay Complex, but kayak fishing uncovered a completely new realm. The possibilities were endless. A plastic paddle craft would allow me to fish anywhere and everywhere. I wanted a kayak desperately and immediately.
After that first trip the thought of kayaking the Texas Coast consumed my mind. I perused countless reports of kayak fishing success stories daydreaming about the day I would be able to do the same. I read reviews about kayaks trying to single out the one that would suit my needs and fishing style. I even attended a few demos trying to narrow down my selection, not knowing when, if at all, I would be able to purchase a kayak of my own.
Five months after transferring to a university, moving to away from home and working long hours all semester, I purchased my first kayak ever, a Wilderness Systems Tarpon 160i. I still remember the fervor I felt strolling out of my local kayak shop after purchasing my first kayak. A feeling akin to a teenager after being handed the keys to their first vehicle; I was bubbling with zeal and anticipation.
But any lingering ardor swiftly vanished. It would be months before I could give my novelty its proper baptism. And, if that wasn’t enough, the commencement was rough. I had more than enough encounters with the solid black and white-striped, furry animal to make anyone in their right mind reevaluate whether they picked the appropriate pastime.
Since that humid, drizzly summer day nearly five years ago, I have logged thousands of hours kayaking. I have been all over the state of Texas and up and down our entire coastline from Port Isabel to Sabine. I have landed innumerable quantities of fish and had many indelible experiences. I have been in places rarely seen by civilization and never visited by motorized craft. I have met countless first-class individuals. I have encountered nature in its purest form: raw and undeveloped.
I have had a fantastic time in the process. Every year seems improve on its predecessor. New adventures and new acquaintances are frequent headlines to each passing year; each experience exceeding all imaginable expectations. Without those two friendly acts of kindness none of this would have been possible. I am frightened by the thought of my life sans kayak.
But my motivation for this piece is not one of narcissistic enrichment or to put myself in the limelight. I wrote this to give thanks to those that helped foster my seed, i.e. addiction, to what it has grown to today, especially Robert and Jeremy. I would like to express my sincerest gratitude for inviting Sam and I on our first trip. I appreciate the kind gesture in loaning kayaks and openly sharing information with the two of us. I would also like to show my appreciation to everyone else that made our first trip possible. Thanks for welcoming us “newbies” with so much hospitality.
Most of the people I fish with these days I have met somehow directly or indirectly through this site. A few people I would also like to thank directly are Vincent Rinando and Jason Bryant who always posted well-written and informative reports and motivated me to do the same. Thanks to Dean Thomas, Kendal Larson for posting so many beautiful and scenic pictures that inspired me to not only write about my adventures, but also chronicle them through photography.
I would also like to thank Harris Ashley for a piece he posted about his experience one morning on the beautiful waters of the Upper Laguna Madre. The story he articulate with words is what inspired me to write to begin with. The day I read his story I figured I would try my hand at grammatical puzzle-making, and wound up writing the very first piece of literary work I had ever written. After writing that piece I began to write about anything and everything trying to refine my syntax and prose.
I was also like to thank the whole Ocean Kayak crew: Clint Barghi, Vincent and Sam Rinando, etc. for showing me the ropes around Galveston and letting me tag along on various fishing trips, especially Clint for being so benign with his knowledge and possessions. I can only dream to acquire the wealth of knowledge these “old salts” possess from their years of experience here on the Texas coast.
I vividly remember the compassion that has been directed my way since the first time I sat in a polyethylene boat. I have tried to return the favor. Sure, sometimes I get caught up in my egocentric pursuits, but in the end it’s all about having fun and sharing experiences with others.
Here’s to many more years to come…
