Conquering Fear through Catfish

Life is meant for living... and one of the greatest obstacles standing before that task is fear, primarily fear of the unknown. I have known countless people that had tremendous potential but they were too afraid to step outside their comfort zone.

I have heard it all.

I can't move away from home.

   I can't quit my current job.

      I can't take that chance.

         I can't try something new.

         ...at my age.

         ...in my situation.

I just can't.

All because of your fear of the unknown. If this sounds like you, I have some advice for you.

Go catfish noodling.

 

If you don't know what that is...here, let me describe it for you.

Picture yourself on a slow-moving boat on a typical southeastern sauna-like summer morn' where your clothes are clinging to you despite never having entered the water. You are trawling along the wide meanders of a warm chocolate milk-colored river wondering how life could even survive below its dank tepid surface. Each submerged tree branch juts through the murk in the form of a long slender watersnake in search of a tasty meal. Fortunately you know cottonmouths don't call this river-section home. Or do they? You could swear the last tree branch had a frying pan-sized fish in its mouth.

Occasionally you see a small brown protrusion from the water followed by a slow-moving ripple. You make out the dusky two-foot long shell of a huge snapping turtle as it swims to the bottom to lay in wait for its next meal. Your heart races as you hear the captain throttle back on the motor. He is slowing down. All you can think of at this point is, "No...not here."

Then you hear his fateful words, "Here we are!" Your heart sinks.

He kills the motor and tosses the anchor.

"We're gonna wade up into this cove, there's a couple of holes we need to check," he bellows as he gets himself ready.

The captain is the first one overboard. His body quickly disappears in the creamy-brown water and a few seconds later his head emerges with barely the tops of his shoulders breaking the surface. It looks to be about five-feet deep. His tan and slender wife is the next one in. My "fishing mates" for the day are all well-seasoned catfish noodlers. One by one they drop off the side leaving me as the only fisherman still onboard. I take a deep breath and force myself to relax reminding myself I signed up for this adventure on my own free will.

I cinch up my sunglasses and tie knots in my ratty old tennis shoes. I usually call them sneakers but given my southern locale, I know better. Needless to say, I don't want to be walking around barefooted in the mud and muck below.

In I go.

Usually jumping into a river causes your body a breath taking start due to the cold. This is nothing like that. The warm soupy feel of the river today causes the body no shock. The only shock is to the mind which begins to wonder what the heck you are doing in this unholy water armed with nothing but your hands.

After your toes touch the bottom you get your bearings and get a feel for your environment. It is mostly soft and squishy down there but occasionally you step on hardened material, whether it be log or rock it is sometimes difficult to tell. Being the rookie I have no idea what I am doing so I just follow along.

Most of the crew work their way in a line towards the shore. They are separated by a little more than arms reach, their bobbing heads giving the appearance of a living seine being dragged through the shallow cove. Then one calls out, "Here it is."

They found the hole...or holes as I would soon come to find out. The experienced team of noodlers then maneuvers around and sets up in would-be escape hatches. The captain then motions to me and tells me exactly where to stand.

"You feel these two big rocks down there?"

I nod my head.

Now use your toe and feel around to the right. There should be about a 10-inch hole on the side."

Hesitantly I feel around with my feet and I find it. Dammit.

I nod and tell him, "Got it."

"Good, now wedge your feet in the hole and block it completely. We are going to start searching the other holes one at a time and if he tries coming out he'll bump your legs. Don't let him get out."

There are seven of us in the water, five standing in the holes. The captain and his wife are the support crew. They swim to the person furthest from me. After a brief inaudible discussion I see two of them beginning to take deep breaths and in an instant they disappear below the surface. About 45-seconds later they re-emerge.

Nothing.

The captain then swims to the next person. The same routine follows.

Again nothing.

Then it dawned on me. They are making their way towards me.

The captain and the third person go down. This time they don't come up for what seems like a minute and a half. Finally the two break the surface and in an exhilarating breath claim, "He's here."

Though they weren't able to grab him, they felt him in the hole. The captain's wife swims over to assist if needed. They are going to go down again and get him. I watch in disbelief.

This time, the two of them take long exaggerated deep breaths knowing they may be down a bit longer. On the count of three they drop below the surface. I stand there and wait, my ankles wedged in a hole praying nothing touches them. It is as if the skin on my legs come alive and grow extra sensory receptors. I'm just waiting for the "bump" anticipating what it would feel like.

Suddenly something breaks the surface where the two men went down. It's a foot. It then drops below the surface.

The water calms for a moment and then roils. The light creamy brown water now has spats of dark chocolate brown as if the sediment has been churned up. It has. But still no men.

Suddenly the water begins to churn as if a blender has been activated below. A foot reappears, then another, followed by an arm, and then finally two men erupt from the depths and begin thrashing around. They are joined by another body, smooth and shiny. After a brief moment both men gain their footing and steady themselves. Then one of the men pulls up and reveals his catch. It is a 30-pound flathead catfish, both hands gripping it's lower jaw. After a few cheers and praises he swims over to the boat with the fish in tow. The captain then swims over to me.

"You ready?"

"For what? Looks like you caught him,"  I said sheepishly.

"Yeah...a lotta of these holes hold more than one though," was the captain's response.

Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why did I sign up for this?

He then gives me instructions.

"Keep your feet wedged in the hole then go ahead and get yourself a deep breath, then go down and stick your arm in the hole as far as it can go. See if there's another fish in there."

I could only imagine the look in my eyes. Thank heavens I was wearing sunglasses.

"What do I do if there's one in there?"

"You grab him."

Geesh...I was really hoping there was going to be more instructions to this!

That stupid little voice in my head then spoke up, "Alright Daryl...you signed up for this, no backing out now." What the heck did that stupid little voice know anyway?

On the count of three I took a deep breath and disappeared below the surface. From that point forward everything was done by feel since my eyes were sealed shut. Given the color of the water I am quite sure if I had opened them it would have been even darker and I was already scared enough. I focused with all my might on what I was told to do because heaven knows that is not what my mind was telling me.

Down I went.

My gloved hand found the entrance to the hole and I pulled myself to the bottom. Though I was running out of air I mentally counted to three to psyche myself up, then I shoved my arm in. My mind was hoping I would feel a fish while my body was praying that I didn't.

Nothing.

I came up gasping for air. Not because my lungs were out of it but because my body was pleading for normalcy. Needless to say, I blurted out a little too excitingly that there was nothing in there. I can't say for certain but I think I may have even let out a little "Yippee." That apparently didn't sit well with the captain.

"Did you reach around to the right? That's where they usually hide in this hole."

How the hell was I supposed to know where my arm was?!? All I know is it's still attached to my body and that's a good thing!

"Go back down and make sure you reach to the right."

I swore at him through my sunglasses covered eyes but down again I went.

This time I made sure to reach to the right and again mind and body had conflicting thoughts. Once again I only encountered emptiness.

Alas, the rest of the holes in this location were empty so we climbed back in the boat and moved further up the river. That wasn't so bad, as long as all my holes are empty, I think I might make it out of here alive.

We repeated this process a few more times all at different locations. Sometimes pulling up fish, sometimes not. Fortunately I was unfortunate and still without a catch. And I was okay with that.

About midday we pulled up near an old abandoned dock and again did the drill of blocking holes. A few minutes into the search the captain's wife yelled, "He's over here, he just bumped my legs!"

"Daryl come here!"

It was the first time in my life I was praying I had another brother Daryl.

I slowly bobbed my way over in the chest-high chocolate milk.

She pretty much repeated the same directions her husband gave me in how to approach the hole but knowing there was a fish in there she gave me a few more nuggets of wisdom.

"Stick your hand in there and let him bite it."

I think my exact word was..."Huh?"

"Just stick your hand in there and when he bites it...stick your hand further down his throat and hang on, you don't want him just biting the tips of your fingers. The big ones are pretty strong."

I had no words the second time around. And then that stupid little voice just had to come back.

"It's go time. This is what you came for."

I counted to three, took a deep breath, gritted my teeth and closed my eyes... but my stupid knees didn't bend. I was standing there above water holding my breath looking like I was four days constipated and straining with all my might. The captain's wife just stared at me.

She smiled and said, "You can do this."

The nerve of her picking on me like that! I had half a mind to leave right there.

But I didn't. I had to make her eat those evil hurtful words.

I know… I know… I just needed incentive to make my knees bend.

I counted to three again, took a deep breath, and this time it worked… my knees flexed and I was under.

Once again it was all by feel and I quickly found myself at the entrance to the hole. This time however, my hand wasn't so quick to go inside. In fact, I am pretty sure I did a finger walk trying to slow things down and possibly sneak up on the creature within. My hand didn't even get six inches in when something touched it. I immediately shot to the surface.

"Did you get him? Do you need help?" Wifey asked.

"Almost!" I flat-out lied. "I can get him though," I said with my best poker face trying not to let her see my second lie.

I knew I had to do this so I regained my composure, took another deep breath, and went down for a second time.

This time my body and mind were in an all out war. My body was fighting relentlessly to do something it spent its whole life training NOT to do...lose a valuable body part, while my mind was simply urging me to overcome my fears.

Sadly, my mind won.

I thrust my hand in the hole and felt around.

Then something bit it.

Within 0.13 seconds I was back on the surface.

And there she was, the she-devil herself staring at me.

"Do you need help Sweetie?" she said with her serpentine voice. For a moment there I thought I spoke parseltongue since I clearly understood her venomous words.

"No, maybe, kinda, sorta, yes" I said with stern confidence.

She smiled with that Medusa-like stare and sidled up to me. "On the count of three we will go down together."

I couldn't believe I was listening to her plan my death. Did anyone else see this? I have witnesses you know!

Before I knew it we both went under. As we maneuvered our way to the hole, she grabbed my hand and guided it in.

It was surreal. I saw myself as a baby, then scenes from my childhood flashed by like a 1930s film-reel, I saw all my brothers and sisters, we were playing in the garden, waving to me...and the next thing I knew, my hand was deep inside the jaws of a beast from the netherworld.

I thought for certain a bright distant white light was about to appear and I had already made plans to make a beeline for it. Supposedly it was going to be peaceful and comforting.

Yet...there was no peace at the end of my arm.

Then suddenly that pesky little voice came back and uttered four magical words which I will never forget.

"Dude...you need air."

Finally... my mind and body were on the same page.

I maintained my grip on the behemoth fish as I headed toward the surface. Before I emerged the she-devil next to me with fangs and forked tongue instantly transformed into the petite amiable captain's wife once again...and no one even noticed! Clever those demon spawn!

I gulped some life-giving air and caught my breath. Finally, I hoisted the 8-pound catfish above my head in triumph. I had done it.

I had reach my hand into the abyss of the unknown and come out the other side successful and shining white. Well maybe, muddy and a little worn but I was happy and satisfied inside, I had conquered my fear.

We went on to catch about a dozen flatheads that day, the largest of which tipped the scales at 43 lbs. And though she spoke softly and put on quite the ruse, I never did turn my back on the captains wife again.