The Making of a Fat Duck

The Making of a Fat Duck

This story takes place on Lake Lure in North Carolina. The lake is located in the Appalachian mountain range in the western part of the state. The source of the clear mountain lake water is the rain fed fresh water springs. The days are hot but the nights and early mornings are very cool. The lake sits in a deep valley that is lined with tall mature pine trees. The clear still water reflects the blue sky and creates the illusion you could actually fall into the sky. The pine scent is subdued in the morning but as the sun comes up the warming trees secrete a sap that releases a fresh pine smell. Occasionally one of these pine trees falls in to the water. The trees rot very slowly over time, thus providing a shelter for the fish that love them.

Pappy, Mr. Lundsford and myself went fishing at Lake Lure one hot summer day. The day started out foggy and cold. I was shivering from the cold, and from the anticipation of fishing. I loved fishing with my Pappy. First, we had to load the boat. Loading and preparing the boat and trailer for the water was a necessary chore and seemed to take forever.

Pappy had a small gray flat-bottomed boat. He took excellent care of it and made sure it was always ready to go fishing on a moments notice.

Pappy would preload the boat with things that would not blow out of it during the ascent up the mountains. We only had to load the light stuff like boat cushions and the tackle. The tackle wasn't light but was so valued by Pappy, he kept it in the trunk.

Pappy said, "Timmy don't forget the salamanders you caught."

Earlier in the trip coming up the mountain, we had harvested the water from a spring coming out of some rocks. The water was ice cold and clear and clean enough to drink. I had spotted a salamander while I was playing in the rocks.

"Pappy what are these things," I asked

Pappy said, "grab ‘em they're salamanders and they make great bass bait."

I was more wet than dry after I turned over dozens of rocks looking for the slow moving creatures. My wet shoes only increased the cold feeling that was trying to take over my already shivering body but it would be worth it if I could catch a bass.

Bass were the fish on the top of the most coveted list. If you caught a bass you were a fisherman, not just someone practicing to be one. Pappy gave me a quart jar to put them in. I held the creatures on my lap while studying them, until we arrived at the lake. I gently set them down on the seat of the car and was glad Pappy reminded me to get them. I carefully put the jar in the boat next to my assigned seat and moved out of the way.

Pappy backed the car down the ramp and Mr. Lundsford held on to one of the ropes attached to the front of the boat.

Mr. Lundsford waited until the boat started floating and called to Pappy, "OK she a floating."

Mr lundsford tied it to the dock. Pappy parked the boat trailer and the car and headed for the boat. I met Pappy at the dock and helped him get in th boat by staying out of his way. Pappy had a bad hip and raising and lowering his leg to get into the boat was not easy on his aging joints. I would hold my breath until he was in safely.

"Ok, Timmy get in."

I got in and Mr. Lundsford untied the boat and released it from the dock. Without a comment, he would get in and push off with an oar. The boat drifted slightly back away from the dock, and the boats movement thru the water created the first ripples on the otherwise smooth as glass lake surface. I leaned over the side of the boat and looked through the clear water to see the mud bottom of the lake. I thought I could see a small fish or two and I decided Pappy should know about them.

"Pappy I see fish! Let's catch them!"

"Timmy we going after the big ones, we going to let those little ones grow bigger before we get after them."

Pappy would start pulling on the rope that would start his motor. He sometimes had to pull many times. The smell of gas and engine exhaust begin to acert itself over the clean smell of the pine scented mountain air. I heard Pappy saying something under his breath but could never quite hear him. I think he was praying. The motor eventually started, and we begin our slow trek to the large portion of lake Lure. We drove away from the gas exhaust, and the slight breeze created by the boats movement through the crisp mountain air refreshed this slightly tired, but excited young fisherman.

The trip to our first fishing hole seemed to take forever. I think Pappy just enjoyed where he was and wanted to take in the natural beauty of this place. Occasionally pappy would point out hawks and some deer that came to the lake for a drink of water. The deer also came to graze on the sweet grasses that grew on the edges of the lake's banks.

After a trip that seemed to last for hours, we finally arrived at our first fishing spot. It was a downed pine tree and was a favorite for Pappy. He had pulled many of crappy out from between the branches of that pine tree over the years.

"If you don't catch fish here," he would say, "then you can't catch fish anywhere."

I was a conversational child. I had lots of questions. If the fishing was slow there would be even more questions. Pappy and Mr. Lundsford were very patient. They would take turns answering all my questions. Mr. Lundsford would always defer to Pappy when Pappy had a reply to one of my questions. He would just nod in approval as Pappy spoke.

After what seemed to be an eternity to this young fisherman I asked Pappy, "Why aren't the fish biting?"

"Timmy we haven't been here more than 5 minutes, it takes the fish that long to settle down. We get them all nervous driving a boat up to where they live, and then we drop an anchor on them."

"Pappy how come I have a bobber that is red, white, and round, and your is a brown stick?"

"That's a porcupine quill. It very expensive and I don't have one to give you. They are also tricky to use, maybe when you get older."

It was about this time I caught a fish. This was always a great relief, as Pappy told me if I didn't catch a fish he would throw me in the water for failing to live up to his expectations. It was a small crappy, but it was going in the cooler. Pappy and Mr. Lundsford were catching fish between my questions. About every half hour of so, I would catch one. That would of course start a whole new series of questions.

“What kind of fish is it Pappy?"

“It’s a crappy."

“How much does it weigh?"

“Half a pound."

“Is it a boy or girl?"

“Girl."

“Why is it yellow on the bottom?"

“The yellow part is where she keeps her eggs."

“Is she a mommy?"

“Yes, son."

“Can we throw her back?"

“Why would want to do that," Pappy asked?

“So she could go back to her babies," I said. concern.

“It’s too late for her. She swallowed the hook. She needs to sleep," replied Pappy.

He opened the cooler and tossed her in.

“I waved good bye and said, bye, bye."

“Son, that fish can’t understand you."

“Can she breathe in the cooler?"

“No she will just sleep."

“Can I touch her?"

“Yes," said Pappy, “But hang on to the lid."

“Why is she so slimy?"

“Fish are always slimy; the slime is like their skin, it protects them."

“Does she have teeth?"

“Yes very small ones," said pappy while shaking his head and sending a winking nod to Mr. Lundsford.

“What is her name?"

“Fish don’t name their children, son."

“Will her mom miss her?"

“Not for long; we will catch her too, but we have to be quiet."

After my third fish and my third round of questions Mr. Lundsford said, “Timmy I believe your are a fat duck."

Pappy nodded his approval.

Pappy, "Mr. Lundsford says I'm a fat duck."

"Yes I believe you are too."

I wasn't sure what it meant but it must be something good.

I announced, "I'm, a fat duck!"

Pappy and Mr. Lundsford started laughing so hard I thought Pappy would drive the boat into the mountain. I could make Pappy and Mr. Lundsford laugh.

When the conversation started to get slow I would just say, “Pappy, I'm a fat duck!"

Mr. Lundsford would start laughing all over again. It was working well for me, so I would tell everyone that would listen, "I was a fat duck."

The reaction seemed to be the same.

We caught a lot of fish on that first downed pine tree. Pappy had planned a half a dozen stops at the lake. He had developed these stops into real good fishing holes over the years. We would spend thirty minutes to an hour at each one. We would stay all day in one spot if the fish kept biting.
However, the fish seemed to get wise after a while, and we would have to move on to a more productive location.

In the middle of the day we would eat our lunch while trying to catch a few more fish. The bright sun and the high altitude of the lake meant it would get a lot hotter real fast. We fished for another hour, the growing heat ran us off the lake and sent us home by mid-afternoon.

The ride home from the lake always seemed shorter than the ride to the lake. Perhaps it was because I was so excited to get to the lake that the boyish anticipation actually slowed down time, or it could be because, I was so tired I would sleep most of the way back home.

Once arriving home we had to put away the boat and clean the fish. I would stand by Pappy's side as he cleaned each fish. He would tell me if it was a boy or girl but he still could not tell me their names. Other family members would come down stairs to the fish-cleaning sink to check on the days catch.

My sister Paula asked, "Did Timmy catch any of those fish."

I answered for Pappy, "I sure did." I caught so many fish today Mr. Lundsford called me a fat duck."

Pappy started laughing again. He laughed so hard he had tears steaming down his cheeks.

"Oh Timmy we have to talk, but not now later when we are a alone."

Paula asked, "What is so funny Pappy?"

Oh I might tell you later, go see Granny and get some milk cartons to store the fish in, and ask her how many she needs for dinner."

We had fish for dinner that night and my Aunt Barbara, Uncle Charlie, and some cousins stopped by. They too were interested in how the days fishing went.

My cousin Little Charlie asked, "how many fish did you catch?"

I proudly responded, "I caught so many Mr. Lundsford called me a fat duck."

The entire group of relatives roared with laughter. I thought I was a real hit until later.

Later that evening after the cousins went home, Pappy said he had to talk to me.

"Timmy do you know what a fat duck is?"

"It’s me Pappy."

Pappy started to tell me, but was laughing so hard he couldn't tell me for a few minutes. Then he said, through tears and laughter, "it is a duck that is full of shit."

"No it's not I cried!" "It means I'm a good fisherman.”

I ran crying to the first person I could find and told them my tale.

It was granny, very softly she said, "oh my, my goodness".

She gave me a hug, something to drink, and a little snack at the kitchen table.

She rubbed my back and said, "you are a good little fisherman."

"I'm not a fat duck any more! I'm a good fisherman!"

I said it one more time to make sure every body could here me.

"I'm not a fat duck! I'm a good fisherman!"