Thursday, November 17, 2011
Not Much. What's Gheenoe With You?
"I'll head your way after training. Be there about ten-thirty, maybe eleven o'clock. Have a beer ready."
"Cool. I'll be here."
"Should I bring the kayak?"
"Nah. I've got an extra down here. Besides, we'll probably end up fishing the Gee-Nu anyway."
I was heading out the door as we had this phone conversation and, not really able to spend any more time on the call, I let it slide. Besides, just knowing that I didn't have to load up the 'yak was good enough news that everything else was temporarily irrelevant. But later... What did he say? A ginzu? Isn't that some sort of oriental knife?
What I found the next day was that a Gheenoe is the perfect watercraft for negotiating the tall grasses and skinny waterways of the salt marshes adjoining the intercoastal water way - the perfect craft for stalking speckled trout and redfish in and around Bear Island - the perfect vessel for a fine day on some sparkling North Carolina flats with my buddy Troy.
The front end of a canoe, the width and stability of a small row boat, the five inch draw of a light johnnie - we comfortably motored, poled, and waded our way through the flats with stealth and ease. Troy had modified his Dad's old thirteen-foot craft with fore and aft casting decks and rod sleeves port and starboard - modifications perfect for a couple of clouser chucking cowboys.
I often think about getting a boat. But, before the notion settles to deeply, I recall the old line "The two best days of a boat owner's life are the day he buys it and the day he sells it" and I sober up. But this changes the game.
What's Gheenoe with me?