By CAY SONNIER GIBSON

Louisiana Lure

Posted August 30, 2009 at 4:54 pm
Filed Under Entertainment, Family Fun | 4 Comments

My husband said I need to wrap up the crabbing posts and I agree. There’s just so much going on. I’m glad we took that morning excursion when it presented itself. We haven’t been crabbing since. The sultry days of summer are getting away from us quicker than a starfish on a fishing pole. Time for writing proves to be an even faster delicacy. But I must move on. The pecan trees are moneyed with dollar-green coins, autumn will prove too brisk for the beach, and we’re missing the Duck Festival this weekend in Gueydan. I’m really wanting to take a tour of all these festivals which Louisiana is so well known for, all these festivals that feed our laissez faire spirits.

But let’s tie up those crabs, shall we? I know I left you hanging from a turkey neck regarding the “eager crabber invading our crabbing spot” and I’m sure most of you (especially if you live in Louisiana) have an idea of who that “eager crabber” was. No, it wasn’t a pirate … for those of you thinking, wishing, hoping I had such an exciting story to tell. My life is just not that exciting. Sorry.

It was, of course, an alligator which I wouldn’t have known existed in our sporting paradise had it not been for the expletive uttered by my teenaged son. A festoon of swamp grasses divided us. I was on the south side with my youngest daughter while he assisted his other sister on the north side. The alligator had, no doubt, ventured away from the Piccadilly buffet line at Blue Crab Recreation piers and, like us, chosen a less crowded setting in which to dine. Beneath the murky waters, he was counting his pennies and nibbling the appetizers which my husband diligently cut and tied on the truck’s tailgate and which we, unknowingly, tossed out to him.

Of course, in the presence of little girls, I turned abruptly to correct my son’s bayou mouth only to see him launch himself backwards, limp string in hand, net pole defensively jutting out, and his sister in the mud, a spout of water betraying the evidence of something sinister. More threatening, at that moment, than a hurricane.

“What, in the name of Neptune!” I could hardly know from my position what had caused the rush of excitement until I heard a disbelieving sob from my daughter, “An alligator!” fed by a screaming realization, “It’s an ALLIGATOR!”

gator

For a moment I stood in denial. I actually argued with the two of them. My daughter’s rush to my side, shaking hands, and great crocodile tears on her checks brought me back to reality. I granted my son pardon for his choice in words, because there are times when words are irrelevant, and hurried the girls up the embankment to the truck.

My son, being a young man of sixteen, daringly continued to lure the alligator back to the shore to prove a futile point. Raw jokes were made to put the family dog on her leash and lure the beast that way.

Sure enough, there he was. I could not have known what lurked in the dark water but sometimes we are shown.

gator2

By now, my daughter had bit back her fear and was taking an interest in the stupidity bravery of her brother. Within a matter of castings and for one brief shining moment, my children became amateur stars in their own home version of Animal Planet. It was insane. My husband directed. Garrett casted. Chelsea filmed. Annie and I were the audience. The alligator did come back … provoked and hungry. My husband, no longer sixteen and stupidly brave, suggested we pack up and go home. We had enough for our family. No sense in being greedy. No sense in being heroic when we didn’t have to be.

I was ready. And shaken. The thought of how quickly the beast had pulled and my daughter had tugged and the audacity with which the string broke in her hands filled me with an unimaginable morbidity of how close the dark water whispered her name, the muck and slime fooled her footing, and fate gripped her young life.

It’s crazy, our fascination with nature and the dangers that lurk beneath our knowing. We all have this primitive desire to conquer, defeat, and capture those powers that stand outside our comfort zone. Our survival instinct prevails when something threatens that comfort zone, that haven. We have a curiosity to possess the cat before he gets killed.

It’s the same fear of nature which, four years ago this time, sent hundreds of thousands of people fleeing the Gulf coast. It’s the same threat which, in August and September 2005, gnashed its jaws of death at our livelihood and existence. It’s also the same presence which called us to rise up together, work together, and reclaim the place we call home, the place we wish to raise our families because there is something magically vibrant lurking beneath the waters, something magically sweet that lisps through the sugar cane fields, something magically special that filters through those shrimp/crab nets and sautes itself right into the fabric of our lives.

What is it? What holds us here? What makes us stay in Louisiana while the gator roars and lashes its tail at our human weakness and curiosity? It’s our job to find out and my job to share those turkey necks with you.

Perhaps we aren’t as different from that gator as we look.

ally

Let’s keep casting our nets into the water to discover what makes Louisiana so magically, dangerously special.

Comments

4 Responses to “Louisiana Lure”

Ruth Sonnier Romero on August 30th, 2009 6:50 pm

Cay, how true!
Reminds me of the days when my boys were the age of your son and younger.
We had many golden days in the same local spot, same type of string, chicken necks and crab nets.
And then, home and many delicious crab stews with rice, stuffed crabs, fried crabs or crab cakes..or even just boiled crabs.
What happy times.
I hope these simple ways are never lost in Louisiana.
Mike on September 2nd, 2009 12:05 pm

What, indeed, keeps us in tethered to this land of swamps, alligators, egret-sized mosquitoes, and the summer’s gumbo-like atmosphere?
For me, speaking as a dang yankee who moved from maryland six years ago, it’s the crawfish etouffe and the Boudreaux and Thibodeaux jokes.
snakeflake on September 11th, 2009 11:11 pm

Looking for a place or places to crab within reasonable driving distances of Baton Rouge. Are Mandeville lakefront and LaCombe Lake road are good places to crab. My wife is a crabbing fool, I like to fish but catching fish is less important. HOw about around Madisonville? Any specific information would be apppreciated.
Snakeflake
Cay Gibson on September 12th, 2009 5:03 pm

I know some people who live south of Lafayette. Let me check some sources and try to find some good crabbing spots.