Professional Crabber

5 02 2010

A house in Ft Pierce. I  walked in, looked around, the smell of salt in the air, a long dock extends far into the Indian River lagoon. A view of blue-green open water, with large mangrove islands, running the length of the river, which become a part of the one of the best sunset views in the world every afternoon.  The sunset takes the purples, greens, blues, yellows, pinks, and reds from your watercolor set, and creates the most amazing image, never duplicating a previous portrait.  And then my parents told us that they were buying this house, 4 bedrooms, tall and beachy.  I sat around thinking, dreaming all day and night about the possibilities. I would become a professional crabber,  learn every tarpon hot spot, find out where the redfish tail, or where the snook hide at night.  I would learn the channels, inlets, cuts, and coves and find secret ledges and flats that would become my secret spots.  This is what Ft. Pierce became, a place where my dreams were made.  I couldn’t sleep, I was so excited.  I dreamed about winning every redfish tournament in the Indian river, having my own research project of tagging and releasing fish.  This was Ft Pierce.  A place where you couldnt get bored even on a rainy day, where the boatramps are filled on saturdays and sundays with people who loved the water as much as I did, and where the endless bullshit stories are neverending on the fishing docks.  This was my dream town, and on this day it would become my reality.