PFDiva lives to yak another day

"Well there's floodin' down in Texas

All of the telephone lines are down

And I've been tryin' to call my baby

Lord and I can't get a single sound."

-S.R.V.

*Trigger warning for anyone who has lost somebody to drowning.

Tony has been telling me that I put way too many statistics in my blogs, and most people tune out because of that.  For this entry, I’ve decided to put away my research and just go for it:

People are drowning.  At Sea.  In Lakes.  In Rivers. In Texas Floods.  Lots of people.  In record numbers this year.  And almost all of those people could have avoided their deaths by wearing a life vest of some sort.  

As a kayak angler, there isn’t a single part of my brain that understands this blatant disregard for life.  I’ve seen anglers attach rod floats to their custom rods while explaining that, “that sucker cost me $300.  I don’t want to lose that fine piece of work.”  I’ve seen anglers buy floating keychains, floating fish grips, floating measuring boards, floating sunglasses.  These kayakers will buy paddle leashes, zip-ties, action cam mounts, floating stringers, bungees, etc.---- all in the name of protecting their precious cargo.  But God for-freaking-bid they protect the most precious cargo in that boat… their own lives.

There are plenty of excuses, and I have an answer to all of them:

1. PFDs are uncomfortable.  Yeah, well, so is a jock strap and a cup--- but I’m sure you don’t mind protecting those jewels.
2. PFDs are expensive.  Yeah, well, so are funerals.
3. PFDs are bulky and make me look fat.  Yeah, well, birth control makes you look fat, but I promise you look more fat when you’re pregnant.  
4. PFDs are constricting.  Yeah, well, I bet you won’t be able to move around much after you’ve drowned either.
5. I can’t find a PFD that I like.  Yeah, well, I bet your family won’t find a casket for you that they like.
6. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.

If you think I’m being too harsh, I don’t care anymore.  I most certainly am judging you if you aren’t wearing a PFD while you are on the water.  You might think - “well, I’m familiar with this area of water.”   No.  No, you are not.  Unless you’re freaking Jacques Cousteau’s genius mentor/ submarine guide to the entire oceanic floor, then you are NOT familiar with that water.  That water is an unpredictable beast.  She is a doting wife one second and an angry mistress the next.  If you think you can clock her movements, with observable science, you need mental help.  If you think that you aren’t hurting anyone else, you are dead wrong.  That sea will swallow you whole and look for her next snack while your family and government employees lose weeks of sleep and suffer irreversible trauma because of your negligence.

I’ve got those excuses too.  I still haven’t found my go-to life vest because this PFDiva needs:

1. an appropriate length.  I’m 5 ft. 10 inches. Not all chicks are 5 ft. 2 inches.  It would be awesome if it didn’t look like I was wearing a toddler life jacket every time I sat down in the yak.
2. a cost that isn’t higher than my wedding ring.  Seriously--- if it costs that much, my husband might feel that my priorities were a little sketchy (Who am I kidding- we all know he’d be proud).
3. cute colors and a fitted shape because I am not trying to be one of the guys.  I’m a woman- and that PFD better be damn awesome if it’s gonna be covering up my Rowdy Maui shirt.  Maybe some girls want to wear RealTree Camo print, but I’m just fine NOT shooting a deer from my yak. Plus, I'd really like to NOT be "invisible" to nearby boaters. 
4. room for actual boobs to actually exist while breathing at the same time (not the kind that are paid for and just stay in one place, not the tiny runway model kind--- the kind that fed two kids and shift around during movement).  Also-  I have hips. Please account for that extra space, so my vest doesn’t ride up and give me double chins during my grip and grins.
5. While I'm at it--- Can I get an "AMEN" for top-loading pockets? Who in the hell decided that women's PFDs needed no pockets? Who in the hell thought side-loading pockets were convenient on a life jacket? I mean- I'm girly, but I damn sure don't take my purse out on the yak with me, C'mon y'all. For Real-----> top loading pockets, please. 
6. And a convenient place to clip my pink Smith and Wesson knife.

What it all boils down to is that this buttercup is gonna suck it up.  I just flat out don’t care anymore about any of those excuses.  I have them all too, but there isn’t a single part of me that thinks I will look cute getting sucked into the vortex that is Charybdis, grasping for my life or stuck under the root of a huge tree in the Trinity River while Equisearch and my family scour a grid on a map looking for my dead and bloated bass-eaten body.

This PFDiva will continue to sport a cheap Stearns life-jacket from Walmart until my design demands are met, but you (without a doubt) won’t catch me in the yak without it because forgetting your PFD is just like forgetting you left your baby in the backseat of the car during an August heatwave.  Both actions can destroy the most precious cargo.

An Open Letter to the "Fishing Widows" from a Coastie Wife

I’m just going to say it--- if I see one more picture of a skinny, bikini-clad blonde holding up a bull red and smiling on a fancy fishing boat, I am going to puke.  That is NOT what most fishermen’s wives look like.  These cute little blondes have a rich daddy who was nice enough to send his little princess to Cancun for Spring Break, and she just so happened to try to go out on a fishing excursion to show the boys how cool she was, and she accidentally caught some big ol’ Mahi-Tuna-Swordfish crossbreed (which I’m sure she did not know the name of until she was told --- 4 times).  This is the story in my head, and I’m sticking to it.

It more than upsets me to see these pictures for a few reasons:

1)      Hell yes, I am jealous that she looks so damn good in that cut off tank top that I could NEVER pull off.

2)      Hell yes, I am jealous that she is on a fancy boat off the coast of Cancun without a care in the world, and her daddy paid for it.

3)      Hell yes, I am jealous that she caught a Mahi-Tuna-Swordfish crossbreed.

4)      But mostly---- these photos make the bile rise in my throat because REAL Fishermen’s wives do far more than giggle while looking cute in a paradise photo op.

Let me paint a real picture for you--- the real wife of an angler rarely shows up in photos because she is either at home with the kids, or she is the one taking the photo.  However, IF a fisherman’s wife did show up in a photo--- here is what you would see.  You would see her making sure that each kid had his/her line in the water before she even baits her own hook.  You’d see her rubbing 70 SPF sunscreen on her husband because GOD FORBID he have the instrinsic motivation to prevent his own skin cancer.  You’d see her running in the background toward her son’s catch because she knows it’s a hard-head from 20 feet away, and she doesn’t want him to get barbed.  You might see a picture of her cutting the bait into smaller pieces to make it last longer for her daughter.  You most definitely would see a picture of her trying to get fish guts out of her hair.  And if she is really lucky, you might catch her in a moment of relaxation trying to wipe dead-shrimp juice off the top of the can of beer (because somebody got the bait & beer coolers mixed up) while she sits down to catch her breath for two seconds.

Of course there will be a few occasions which she actually catches her own little whiting or black drum, and her hubby will be proud enough to drop his own line long enough to take a picture.  In that photo, she damn sure won’t be wearing a freaking string bikini with cut-offs and a face full of make-up (WHO are these girls?).   Instead--- she will probably have on the same grungy, baggy pants she has on in the last photo because those are her comfy, fish-gut-wiping pants, and they have enough room in the pockets to hold pliers, rags, and a flask. A real fishing wife will be wearing one of her husband’s XL Coastie Culture (or other fishing related brand) shirt.  She won’t have any make-up on because she knows that if her sunscreen runs into her eyes, it will sting and her mascara will run.  She will also be wearing a hat in order to avoid her hair getting entangled with fish guts or getting blown in her freaking eyes every freaking 5 freaking seconds.

             Ladies and Gentlemen--- THIS is what a real fishing wife FREAKING looks like.

                                At a Super Bowl party last week, my husband and I were blessed to meet Richard.  Richard is the first person I’ve met in a while who appreciates what we ladies sometimes deal with.  After introductions were made and my husband swayed the conversation over to fishing, I thought I was only secretly rolling my eyes and sighing at an all too familiar scene.  Apparently, Richard caught on.  He leaned over, and through a smile, he asked, “Are you a fishing widow?”  With one small question, he had validated every bit of what I have felt since I figuratively lost my husband to the ocean 3 years ago. 

                If he isn’t at the pier, in a kayak, or surfcasting--- then he is at Fishing Tackle Unlimited or his eyes are glued to TKF forum.  We have even sacrificed date nights due to off shore fishing trips or to meet up with fishing buddies.

 I know you other fishing widows are feeling what I’m saying right now.  I know you are putting your hand in the air and screaming out, “Preach it, Sister!” But, before you start letting that bitter streak show--- let me share with you something with which I am coming to terms---- While the ocean is pretty big competition, it ain’t a skinny, bikini-clad blonde.  Fishing is where my husband goes to refill his soul just like I do when my nose is buried in a book (or a glass of wine).  Through the years, I have seen too many of my friends lose their love to gambling, bar-hopping, cheating, or just plain indifference.  I have to tell you, sisters, I don’t see fishing being the root of any of that.  I see my husband passionate about learning, I see him reading, I see him making memories with our kids, I see him trying to spark the same zeal within me, I see him bringing home dinner like a BOSS!

I’m not so sure I’m a widow.  This isn’t a man who is indifferent or dead to his wife.  Quite conversely, it’s a man who is most definitely alive.  Can’t complain about that.

This blog’s shout out goes to all of the fishing wives I see in the background of those photos!  Go give your fisherman a big fat kiss on the mouth, and tell him thanks for choosing fishing as a habit instead of all of the other things he could have been addicted to.  Remind yourself that he has to go to sleep sometime, so unless there is a tournament going on at the pier, he will be home in time to lay his head on the pillow next to yours.  On the days when you feel like you have slipped too far into the background, I hope you find it in your heart to step into the sunlight, stand next to your man, represent the rest of us in your fish-gut covered jeans, and cast that line out into the ocean. 

(Side Note to the Anglers--- please go hug, kiss, and thank your significant others.)

A Culture Created

Fresh Water catch in East Texas on Hochheim Lake

It's hard to say exactly when my passion for the water first began.  However, I know exactly when my addiction to the Texas Coast started.

At the end of 2010, I married my beautiful wife, Crystal, who is an AP Literature teacher a few miles down the road from Galveston.  It wasn't long after the move down here (from Denton, Texas... represent) that I was invited to go on a fishing trip in the bay with some friends.

Me, Crystal, Nash, Lee, Rick
on Galveston Party Boats

Slim, Rick, Ruben, Lee, Crystal, Me
on Galveston Party Boats

My wife, me, and one of my first Coastie catches!
Ha!  That's my buddy Lee photo bombing in the back.

No matter the size of  that first catch, it was at that moment that I vowed to learn all there is to know about salt water fishing.  It was then I realized that the Coast is a Culture all its own.  

This blog will be a record of my evolution into a "Coastie" and those who helped me out along the way.

*I'm a firm believer in shout outs.  We have had some good times on the Galveston Party Boats.  You can find them at galvestonpartyboatsinc.com .  

Avery's catch. Photo bomb by Jason.

Jason, Me, Crystal, and Avery
Avery's b-day trip on Galveston Party Boats