On a warm, dark summer night back
in the 50’s, my dad would load his green 1951 Chevy pickup truck with fishing
gear and a 7 ½ HP Elgin Outboard Motor. Us
boys were already in the truck, excited about the fishing trip to San Leon we were
about to embark on. Fishing was one of
the wonderful hobbies my dad shared with us. We did not know or understand at the time that
we were poor and that the fish we caught were needed help feed our growing
bodies. For us, this was an adventure to see who would
catch the most fish and the biggest. I
was the youngest at this time with two older brothers. Everything was a
competition for us. For dad though, it
was probably a great opportunity to get out of the house and out of mom’s way.
The warm, humid moonlit night gave
way to a rainbow of orange and red hues cast by the morning sun through the
distant rain clouds on the horizon. The drives
along Red Bluff Road in the ‘51 Pickup was bumpy at best and as slow as
molasses, but we didn’t care. We were
going FISHING! The trek moved from Red Bluff Road to Highway 3 and on to San
Leon without a hitch. With the light of
day upon us, we pulled into the bait camp. Dad went inside to rent a 14’ semi-v hull
aluminum boat and buy some bait while we gathered our fishing gear and headed
to the boat ramp. A light breeze filled
our nostrils with the smell of saltwater. Sea gulls could be heard crying out for any
scrap a fisherman was willing to part with to eat.
Soon Dad emerged from the bait
house and pointed to the boat we were going to take. Running like one of us three might be left
behind, we darted toward the boat. Dad
was the last one to get to the boat but he was carrying the outboard motor. As he got into the boat, with one strong arm,
he yanked the motor into the boat with him. He then set it down on the transom and
tightened the motor clamps to secure the motor to the boat. After checking that we all had our life vests
on, he grabbed the pull handle of the motor and with a quick jerk the purr of
the motor resonated. When I heard the
clunk of the gears engaging, I knew we were on our way to Redfish Island. Our fishing journey had started!
Well, back in those days, we mostly
caught croaker, sandtrout, whitings and saltwater catfish known as hardheads
(those you threw back!). An occasional
highly prized speckle trout, redfish or black drum would make it into our ice
chest. Dad would never let us use live
bait so we were stuck with dead shrimp or cut bait. “Too costly for you boys to
waste!” Dad would say when we asked to use live shrimp. We didn’t really care
as long as we caught some fish.
Today, I still enjoy fishing and
still don’t use live bait. I prefer
artificial lures to catch those prized fish. My dad instilled a love of the outdoors into
this boy that would last for a lifetime with memories that will never be
forgotten. Though I don’t fish as much
as I would like too, I still get down to San Leon once in a while. But now I head over to Bubba’s Shrimp Palace
and gorge myself on large, fresh, fried shrimp! I believe they have the best and largest fried
shrimp you’ll find anywhere in the Houston area. And if you are really hungry, try their
all-you-can-eat fried shrimp dinner for $9.99 on Monday night! Located at 113 6th Street in San
Leon, you can’t miss the large pink building. So pull on your boots, loosen up your belt and
enjoy Texas thru your backdoor!
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