Gator Blog

As I travel around rural Alabama I'm always looking for an adventure.  Not the type of adventure where you would find yourself swinging from your leather, side whip to outrun a boulder, but an adventure more along the lines of a late afternoon fishing trip or a hike across the pasture to take a few pictures of an old barn.  Well, in my recent travels I wasn't exactly racing boulders, but somehow I managed to be face to face with one of natures most feared animals.

I ran into an old friend the other day and he asked if I would like to spend the rest of the afternoon in his twelve acre pond.  Having a passion for fishing of all sorts, I couldn't turn him down.  We set out from his shed where he keeps his 1991 Nissan Pathfinder reserved for fishing and fishing only.  If by some chance you forget any of your gear, you can probably find what you need in the side pockets of the door.  We took the old dirt road from his house through an overgrown pasture, where the grass is waiting to be cut for hay.  The sun was beginning to duck behind the hard wood trees bordering the field, which made it more comfortable to be outside.  The sweet smell of summer was in the air making the perfect setting for a great fishing trip.

Things began to take an odd turn as we launched his small Jon boat and a bass jumped in the boat.  As soon as he had thrown the small bass back into the water, an even larger bass jumped in the boat.  In my twenty years of fishing, I have never seen a fish jump in a boat, much less two fish in such a small time period.  

We paddled across his pond to one of his "honey holes", where he has thrown his Christmas trees for the past thirty years to provide cover for bass.  We made a few casts and caught a few fish, but the best part was hearing his stories of past fishing trips.

The sun was going down and we were deep into conversation.  We failed to notice the curious, seven foot alligator who swam up to investigate our activities.  We decided to call it a day, so I grabbed the paddle and poked it in the water.  My sudden movement startled the alligator, and like his aquatic friends who wanted a ride, he jumped into the boat.  In my fishing experience I've seen hundreds of alligators anywhere from hatchlings to fifteen plus feel long.  We've always coexisted well together because we've always minded our own business.  In this bizarre situation, I was stumped.  I probably wouldn't have been so shocked had he jumped into the vacant, middle of the boat, but he decided he would land at my feet.   I had no idea what to do, and I'm sure alligator didn't either.  I guess it was instinct that put my left foot on his head and my right foot on his tail pinning him to the floor of the boat.  What was going on?  I can handle the fish, but AN ALLIGATOR!?!?!  My friend was as confused as I was.  How did our peaceful afternoon turn into an episode of The Twilight Zone?  I gained my composure and asked for the net.  My friend, calmly, threw me the net and I put it between the alligator and me.  I slowly lifted my left foot off of his head and my right off of his backside, and as swiftly as he belly flopped into the boat he sprung out of the boat.  The drama that lasted less than five minutes but felt like an hour was over.  My friend and I looked at one another with puzzled looks on our face for the last time before we burst into laughter.  We questioned the previous event and laughed all the way back to his shed, where we sat an additional ten minutes to reminisce.  

This is by far the craziest, most adventurous fishing trip I've ever been a part of.  It fits into the same category as when you catch a trophy fish, because you will never forget it.  As I said earlier, these are not the kind of adventures I'm looking for, but as long I can walk away safely and laugh about them, I think I can handle a few more like this.  Maybe I should start wearing an Indiana Jones whip on my side.  Not to avoid boulders, but to avoid fish, alligators, and whatever else the waters of south Alabama throws at me.        

by Jon Braun