I thought that a
short blog would be preferred to not
writing a blog at all, which is why, a couple of weeks ago, I wrote a
short blog
about my dentist’s recent offshore fishing trip down in the keys. He had spent a LOT of time editing his video. Man, I gotta say, I caught a little crap about that. Okay, for those three of you regulars who read my
blog, I’m sorry. Obviously, you enjoy
reading the
longer stories of my sordid escapades. Well, except
for whoever those 1000 extra people are/were who read my blog AFTER I included the pictures of
the girls in the bikinis from my recent Costa Rica fishing trip. My readership, btw, increased to 2000 viewers on that particular post.
Amazing – the power of bikinis. Well, okay, I admit, those girls were fricking amazing.
So here they are one more time: :-)
Okay, that should add another thousand new readers for this post! (Yes, I have an understanding wife)
So, with that somewhat inappropriate introduction taken care
of, I suppose it is time then to tell the story of “Lake Cue”. But I warn you, if you perusing this blog to
see more bikinis – it ain’t gonna happen.
You can stop reading now. And if
you are seeking a short blog, that ain’t gonna happen either.
For the rest of you, grab a big cup of steaming
coffee, sit back in your chair and (hopefully) enjoy: “The Lake Cue Story”.
Oh, unfortunately, I can’t tell the ENTIRE story because it
would involve hundreds of pictures and would comprise hundreds of pages, but I
will tell you a little of the history and use our latest fishing trip as an example.
Enough of the introduction.
Let’s begin:
Nineteen years ago, Terri and I were asked to assist
with the construction of a small house in Central Florida. As a legacy, Terri’s grandparents: Lea and George “H” Roberson were leaving a little money to the rest of the family to build a simple “A” frame house on their piece of
property in Hawthorne, Florida on a little lake called “Cue Lake”. They had owned the property since the 1940's. The new house wasn’t meant to be super-fancy,
just something that would continue the lineage of fun and good family times that Terri’s
side of the family and friends could continue to enjoy on this small waterfront property.
Weekend after weekend, for approx 2 years, while Cameron was just a
baby, we all worked together, as a family, to build this house. Terri's Uncle Tom has/had a lot of construction
experience and Cousin Kevin is/was an engineer, so the two of them acted as the
foremen. The family really didn’t expect
me to be able to assist as they knew I was a computer geek with little (almost
zero) construction experience, but I learned a LOT during those two years.
After a few years of working very hard every weekend, we
got it done. Then – we never used it
again. (At least Terri and I didn’t)
One summer day, many years after the Lake Cue house had been completed,
Terri and I were sitting in our Tallahassee home, trying to figure out where to
take our young kids (Cameron (8) and Delaney (3)) for a week in the summer and she
asked me, “Why don’t we go to Lake Cue?”
“Lake Cue”, I replied, “I hate that place! Uncle Tom is a damn drill-sergeant! Don’t you remember? We always called it the “Work House” cause
that is ALL we did every weekend for two years”. But having few options, and fewer dollars (at the time) we decided to check it out anyway. We packed the kids in the car and drove 2.5
hours away.
When people ask me, "Where is Lake Cue?” I reply, “Well, go to Gainesville, turn left,
go to nowhere, then go a little farther and you will be there”. There isn’t much there. The area is full of scrub-brush and small lakes.
Sorry. Back to the story….
So it is a beautiful day, (somewhere around 2005) the sun is
glistening off the lake, the breeze is blowing nicely, the kids are playing and
laughing down by the water, Terri is sitting in a rocking chair on a huge deck
(the deck floor I mostly build, btw), I am swinging in a hammock on same deck
with a cold beer in my hand and I turn to Terri and say, “Tell me again, why I
don’t like this place?”
No, that isn't a picture from 2005, it is from 2016. But the picture that was taken of me from 2005, which I can't find, was EXACTLY the same as this one. Not much has changed. This is my favorite spot at the house. Although back in 2005, I was probably drinking Bud Light Lime and I looked MUCH younger.
So Terri and I enjoyed the place a few more times with our
children. Slowly, I learned to bass fish
there
(which is an entirely different and funny story that should be told
someday). As I started to improve at bass
fishing, I thought it would be a good idea to bring a small boat down to the
house. So I did. Just an old aluminum bass tracker boat that I
bought from an old guy named Grover Cleveland (no, really) near Lake Seminole in Georgia:
(Coco loves to ride on the boat - and eat the fish.)
Once I had a boat there, things improved even
more. Now, we could take boat rides as a
family, sight-see (hah) around the lake and I could fish around the weeds from
the boat. That was fun! So one day, I was telling my good friends Nick
and Gene about it and they said, “Hey, why don’t we schedule a "guys trip" there
once a year to fish!”. Great idea!
So we did.
Nick, Gene and I started fishing there once a year. Sometimes in the Spring, sometimes in the
fall. Then, since we are geniuses by nature, we had another great
idea! One of us said, “You know, we
enjoy fishing so much, why don’t we have a guys trip here TWICE a year – once
in the Spring and once in the Fall!”
Brilliant! So we did.
Then we started bragging to our buddies about how many fish
we were catching. I mean, on a good
weekend, we often were catching 30-40 bass.
We thought, at the time, that we were master bass fishers. (Bass Masters?) More on that later.
Well, our buddies wanted some of that fish action, so more guys
started "showing up". The house only holds
so many, so we kind of limited attendance at six. The house comfortably sleeps six, but only because
Jeff sleeps with, and spoons my dog Coco, on the futon in the living room. More on that later – well, maybe not.
As far as my friends are concerned, I would say that we are,
for the most part, responsible men. We
all have wives or girlfriends, most of us have children, most of us have
responsible jobs. We take care of our families, and work hard at our stressful jobs. We come from diverse backgrounds, with diverse careers, but that thread is the same. Throughout the year, we do our
best to be supportive men, doing necessary chores, attending necessary recitals and child baseball or ballerina practices. As adults though, there are times when you just
want to get away from it all. I don't mean to do anything inappropriate, I just mean to escape. I know, I know –
women need that also, and I am perfectly fine with that. But as of yet, no women have been invited to our men’s
weekend. (Except, ironically, Hannah, John's girlfriend, who showed up
this last time for an hour for lunch):
(Hannah's cute, so that will probably add 500 people to my readership.)
Come to
think of it, I’m certain that she she is the only female (other than my dogs) who
has ever been there with us at the lake during guy's weekend. And she was only there for an hour at lunch. Well,
except for the “Lady Of The Lake” who was dancing in the moonlight in a very sheer white nightgown at 2:30 a.m.
across the lake directly under the full moon next to a fire beckoning us to come closer through the fog. Once again, that is ANOTHER very interesting story that needs to be told on
another day.
As the years have ticked by, I have come to think of Lake Cue
as something as a magical place. (Feel free to skip to the last paragraph for an explanation if you like). There
are no mansions on this lake, there aren’t beautiful docks or expensive boats
or landscaped yards, or even paved roads, but that, in a way, is what makes it even more special. There is an "energy" about the place that is indescribable. You feel it after you have been there for a few days.
As men, when we go there, we don’t really leave the house
except for our Saturday trip to Chiapinni’s to watch a few minutes of football
and drink a beer. More on that later
also. The warmth and essence of Nanny and Papa
(Terri’s grandparents) remains. I feel them. In fact,
I pray for them a great deal every time I am there.
I thank them for the use of “their” house. I am truly grateful for the time I share
there with my close friends.
I know I type fast, but I don’t type fast enough to tell you
the many stories that have transpired since we started fishing at Lake Cue. And if I included all the stupid shit we have done there, I would need to seek a publisher for my novel. So let’s wind the clock forward 8-10 years. Let’s return to this year - 2016 and talk about our “latest” trip since it somewhat epitomizes our bi-annual adventures on location there.
On this “latest” trip we have: Nick, Sam, Mike W (the big bad wolf), Mike W,
Jeff, and me. Sorry, I don’t use last
names in my blog cause I know the “Internet bots” scan my blogs for names and direct sales references.
Before we arrive, I usually send out an email allocating
food supplies. Everyone has a general
idea as to what to bring. If you come, you
are responsible for your own beverages – whatever those might be! You know, lots of water, Gatorade, hot tea, etc. Oh yeah, and maybe a beer or two. Maybe.
Typically, we arrive sometime on Thursday afternoon and
leave sometime on Sunday afternoon, but I wanted to get an early start, so I left
Wednesday evening. My decision had absolutely nothing to do with currently living with six females. I really wasn’t
expecting any company on Wednesday, but Mikey called me around 10 p.m. and
said he was almost there. Cool! I was still doing chores, stacking wood, setting up the house, preparing for the
weekend. Mike arrived around 11 p.m., we
drank a few (2?) beers, and went to bed. Nothing special Wednesday night.
Mike and I got up early Thursday morning and took out my new
jon boat. I just got it from Bass Pro
shops:
Again, nothing special, just a
little aluminum boat with a 9.9 HP four-stroke on the back, but perfect for
what we need it for.
Mike and I start fishing – the fish started biting. Mike caught 10 bass on Thursday. I caught 21.
Now I KNOW what you are thinking, “Marc likes to
exaggerate. He didn’t REALLY catch 21
fish in a single day”! So here is my response to your skepticism:
If you are caught cheating / lying about your tallied Lake
Cue fish count – you will
never be allowed back. I’m certain that includes me also. Granted, as we all are drinking beer each night on the front
porch recounting our glorious day of fishing, you are EXPECTED to lie about how
big some of the fish you caught were - especially the ones you lost! But, lying about the # of fish you caught is a capital offense, punishable by permanent lake expulsion. You might as well slap my mother while she is naked in the bathtub. We keep an exact tournament board of fish counts, by
day, by person. This is the “bible board” for the weekend. There may/may not not be
money involved, but there are SERIOUS bragging rights
(not that I would ever brag) associated with the tournament board:
Notice that I am ahead. Well, it is hard to tell from this photo, but trust me - I am ahead. And ALL my fish were the biggest! The ones I lost were even bigger! Huge! So before you convince yourself that there is no way I could catch 21
bass in a day, let me honestly say that, on this trip, I was having problems with this new blue, braided line that I was using. It kept
breaking at the hook. On Thursday, I lost at least
7-8 hooks when a fish hit. I lost
at least another 5-6 fish that hit my line and that I didn't catch for
whatever reason. (Nothing to do with my technique, I can assure you). And, I lost at least
2-3 fish that jumped and then spit out the hook.
If I had caught all the fish that hit my line on Thursday, my count
would have easily been somewhere around 36. Thank you Mikey for devising a solution to the problem (a monofilament leader).
Alright, here it is, this is the FINAL board for this last weekend. Part of the reason that I felt I needed to blog about Lake Cue was because we beat the old, long-standing record of "138" bass:
If you can't read it, the board says "143" damn bass!
To say that Lake Cue is “prolific” as it relates to bass
fishing, is quite the understatement. The
lake might not be that pretty because of all the weeds along the shoreline, but
OMG do the bass (of all sizes) like it. Perhaps it is because we are about the only people that fish the lake, and we only go
twice a year. I'm pretty sure the fish have a group meeting late Thursday night and say, "Hey guys, you know that thing that looks like a juicy worm, but isn't? Yeah, don't touch it. It hurts". I swear they get smarter the day after we arrive.
To prove that everyone has a good time, here are a few pictures from our latest trip (in no particular order):
Mike, with his 22nd bass!
Sam caught 16 that weekend!
Wait.. How did she get in here? Okay, so I lied about no more bikinis! My bad. :-)
Nick S (Still looking good after all these years my friend)
(Mikey's fish that he smushed next to the camera lens to make it appear bigger)
Me taking a picture of Jeff NOT catching fish.
My biggest one for the weekend. Only about 5 pounds, but he was long! Nowhere near the biggest fish we have caught in this lake. He was just healthy.
It is worth mentioning that we only go to ONE place during the entire weekend. That place is a gas station. It sells beer. Not that we need the extra beer, it is just kind of a tradition. The gas station has been around since 1935. You never know who you might meet there! Well, I can assure you that you won't meet one of those bikini girls that you saw above.
Now, let’s talk about the “Lake Cue fish bylaws”.
Here is a subset:
1. The fish must be in the boat to count.
2.
Fish that hit the side of the gunwale and go
back in – don’t count.
3.
Fish that hit the engine or prop and go back in
– don’t count. (Wolff)
4.
Fish that fly OVER the boat – don’t count (Gene)
5.
If you keep the fish in the water; you touch it but it doesn't make it into the boat; then the fish gets away, it don't count.
6.
If another person holds up the fish outside the boat by the line
and the line snaps – it doesn’t count.
(See Rule #1)
7.
Catching fish while wading – counts. You do not need to be in a boat.
8.
Fish that are smaller than your worm – count.
9.
Fish that are smaller than your hook –
count. It’s been done - numerous times!
10.
You may not use a net on the shoreline to increase your fish count by 20-30 tiny bass minnows. Doesn’t count
(Jim)
11.
If the boat capsizes (from empty beer bottles) and when you turn it back
over and there is a fish in it. Counts.
12.
Bream count.
Although you MUST give the guy in the boat crap about catching a stupid-ass fish.
13.
ALL fish caught while trolling – count. Nobody particularly likes this rule, but they
count.
14.
Dead fish found floating that are brought into the boat – don’t count.
15.
Catfish count.
16.
Small gators – don’t count. They are NOT in the fish family.
17.
Fish caught by scoundrels who purchase ALL that
color worms from the local store so that nobody else has that color –
count. (Jeff)
18.
Fish caught on another person’s hot pole –
count. (See ethics guidelines)
19.
Fish caught by stealing a hot lure from another
person’s tacklebox – count. (See ethics
guidelines)
20.
Fish on Thursday, all day – COUNT! Not our fault you can’t get there late
Wednesday night.
21.
Fish on Wednesday – Don’t Count. This rule may change when we are all five
years older.
22.
If you claim that a fish is over 8 pounds, it
must be weighed. You can claim it, and
it counts, but nobody is going to believe that it was that big – even if you
smushed it up against the camera lens to make it appear bigger. (Mikey)
23.
You do not have to have someone else on the boat
to verify you caught your fish. We use
the honor system. (See ethics guidelines and rules on lying).
There are sure to be more, but those are the bylaws we have
experienced so far.
Now let’s talk about eating.
You might think that a bunch of guys sitting around fishing simply drink beer and eat potato chips. You would be very, very wrong. Both Nick and Jeff are excellent cooks. At least one night, we have "steak night". We each bring the juiciest steak we can find and cook it up with lots of side dishes. One night is reserved for the "Seafood Boil". Both Nick and Jeff are wizards at this. Here is an example from our latest trip (Jeff's cooking):
(It was worth two pictures).
But wait, this latest trip, in addition to Jeff's amazing meal, Nick decided to have a steamed "Crawfish night". Wow! And to top it off, he had some kind of pork skewers bathed in a creamy glazed sauce that was... orgasmic:
Anyone hungry yet?
As many of you know, I usually blog about offshore
fishing. Don’t get me wrong, offshore
fishing is wonderful. I love it also – but
for different reasons. There is no doubt
that there can be significant risks involved with offshore fishing. Wind, waves, bad weather, capsizing, big
hooks, big teeth, sea-sickness, engine problems, etc. The challenge of offshore fishing (and the
size of the fish) make it fun for me and those who choose to fish with me on my
big boat south of Tallahassee. But Lake Cue fishing is the
antithesis of all that. Here’s why:
The lake is surrounded by trees. And since it is located in Central Florida,
the lake isn’t affected by wind like the coast is. At its deepest, the lake is only 20 ft, and
most of the time where we are fishing near the shoreline, it is only 6-8 feet
deep. If a thunderstorm threatens, it
only takes us 2-3 minutes to chug our little motors home.
Allow me to summarize it this way, and I will use pictures of Jeff and Nick on this latest trip that someone took, in silhouette, to
illustrate:
In summary (and thanks for reading this far):
When you are brought together in fellowship with your buddies on this lake; when
you have spent a relaxing, beautiful day catching fish of all sizes; when you
have a fishing pole and a cold beer in your hand while standing on the bow of
your little boat; when the spectral colors of the sensational sunset over
the calm, still waters are so vivid, rich and beautiful that it literally takes your spiritual
breath away; you achieve that rare, but distinctly memorable, yet fleeting "moment" in your life
where you are completely and deeply thankful. You actually appreciate and respect your complicated daily life for
everything it is. Then you stare at the first visible star above the orange, wispy clouds and wholeheartedly thank
God for the blessing of family and friends. You will close your eyes and quickly pray for the ones you
have lost; and in your mind's eye, you will vividly remember and cherish the love and laughs you had with them – then you will understand; you will understand instinctively bobbing on this little, inconsequential lake, with pure love in your soul, just how lucky you are to be alive - at that "moment".
Lake Cue is a magical place and I am a blessed man. Thank you to Barbara and Uncle Tom for letting my friends and me use it every year.
Thank you (all three of you) for reading this long post and may God bless
you.
Captain Marc Paul
