Jeff sparks
Verified Member
When I was playing pool in Houston in 1966 and 67 I met a guy named Coleman DeCuir.. Coleman couldn't play pool very well, but he really loved the game... He would come to LeCue just to watch the action as many others did back then... There was always action, it was a 24/7 joint and every crossroad hustler had LeCue on his map...
I find out that Coleman has a fishing camp in the middle of Westbay on what was known as mud cut... He had hauled the material out by boat over several years and built it himself... Coleman was a real fisherman, an old salt, the kind you read about in books...
I wanted him to take me fishing, and every time he came to LeCue I'd ask him when are you going to take me out to the camp for some fishing... Every time he would say the same thing, the tides not right, that's why I'm here...
One night Coleman comes in and the action is slow... So I ask him again, let's go fishing in the morning, c'mon take me out to the camp and let's catch some of those speckled trout I've been hearing about, you know the ones as long as my arm... C'mon Coleman...
It's about midnight, and Coleman says to me, Let's go...of course I said, Right now??? It's pitch black outside, don't you think we ought to wait until daylight?
Coleman said, "Do you want to catch some fish or not?"
We piled in that Cadillac of his and drove to some little town on the coast where he had his boat stored... It was a 20' Mako and she was a beauty.. He launched her and ordered me aboard... It's now about 3:00 am and I can't see my hand in front of my face... It's a moonless night, and it's pitch black once he idles away from the dock, you can't see the bow on the boat, all you can see are the running lights up front on the nose of the bow and the one on the right side of the transom at the back of the boat...
I'm trying to play it cool though, I ain't gonna wimp out on the first fishing trip, how would that look? We are idling along nice and slow and I'm thinking everything is cool, we are just going to take our time and idle on out to the camp and have breakfast and wait on daylight... Then he's gonna put me on the fish and I'm gonna have the fishing experience of a lifetime with a known legend in the fishing community...
About the time I started to relax, he punched the throttle and the Mako's bow raised up and then flattened out in a couple of seconds as she got on plane... We are flying through the darkness and I can't see a thing!!!! I feel I have made the mistake of a lifetime, I'm gonna die...
Coleman leans over and says loudly, "Hang on now, I've got to make some sharp turns because we are going through the bayou and the channel through here is narrow and if we get outside of it we'll run aground." Oh boy, that's just what I wanted to hear, we are going a good 30 knots and now all I can think about is being vaulted out over the bow when the Mako hits a sand bar and breaking my neck as my head is impaled in the sand like a spear...
In a way, I'm glad it's dark, Coleman can't see the look of fear on my face, which I'm sure would have been easy to see in the daylight... I'm sure this guy is crazy, and I'm wondering how he can still be alive...I expect to die any moment...
It seems to me we were zigzagging through that bayou for an hour, when Coleman brought her down off plane and ask me if I was ready to catch some trout... Before I could say "Yes" the bow of the Mako began to raise up ever so slowly as the boat parked itself on a sand bar...I looked down at my watch, it was 3:35 and still pitch black... I was really impressed...
Coleman bailed out with his gear and I did the same... I followed him as he waded along a shelf that obviously had a gut running along it, because if I moved toward where we were casting it got deeper very quickly... The tide was moving and I could feel the sand sift out from under my feet if I stood in one place to long.. Its still black, but once away from those running lights, my night vision kicked in, and I could actually see pretty good...
Coleman was about 50' ahead of me and we hadn't caught a thing.. I looked at my watch again, it was 4:15... I looked back at Coleman and his rod had that telltale bend in it, he was on... After a couple of minutes of battling that trout, he grabbed it behind the head and lifted it out of the water... It was a beautiful speckled trout in the 5 lb. range... He continued to hook up, time after time, and he never lost a fish that I saw... He was truly a great fisherman...
I finally hooked up with a nice trout and after a well fought battle the trout surrendered and I had one on the stringer... Meanwhile Coleman was wearing them out...
Then it happened, I had a monster hit and the rod bent double as the fish stripped line off the spool... For the briefest of moments I thought I had the world recond trout on, but when the fish turned and the tip of the rod started that telltale thump thump thumping I knew I had hooked a Jackfish...and he was a big one at that...
When in a big school of really nice trout, the very last thing you want to hook up with is a Jack... I spend the next twenty minutes trying to land that Jack, all the time Coleman is still catching trout... I finally got impatient and started pumping him in with the drag screwed down tight... Not a good idea as it turned out, I busted one of Coleman's custom Joe Ridings rods right at the butt, and my catching was done for the day...
Coleman was gracious about it, and said, whenever that happens to him, he just points the rod directly at the fish and puts his thumb on the spool... That let's the Jack break the line at the lure, and he just reels in and ties on another lure...
Coleman said the tide was done and the fishing was over anyway, but I think he was just trying to make me feel better... He had a limit and we went to his camp and cleaned em up for the skillet...
Coleman passed a few years back, but I'll always remember that trip.. He was a great fisherman, and he handled a boat pretty good too...
RIP Co-lee-man...
I find out that Coleman has a fishing camp in the middle of Westbay on what was known as mud cut... He had hauled the material out by boat over several years and built it himself... Coleman was a real fisherman, an old salt, the kind you read about in books...
I wanted him to take me fishing, and every time he came to LeCue I'd ask him when are you going to take me out to the camp for some fishing... Every time he would say the same thing, the tides not right, that's why I'm here...
One night Coleman comes in and the action is slow... So I ask him again, let's go fishing in the morning, c'mon take me out to the camp and let's catch some of those speckled trout I've been hearing about, you know the ones as long as my arm... C'mon Coleman...
It's about midnight, and Coleman says to me, Let's go...of course I said, Right now??? It's pitch black outside, don't you think we ought to wait until daylight?
Coleman said, "Do you want to catch some fish or not?"
We piled in that Cadillac of his and drove to some little town on the coast where he had his boat stored... It was a 20' Mako and she was a beauty.. He launched her and ordered me aboard... It's now about 3:00 am and I can't see my hand in front of my face... It's a moonless night, and it's pitch black once he idles away from the dock, you can't see the bow on the boat, all you can see are the running lights up front on the nose of the bow and the one on the right side of the transom at the back of the boat...
I'm trying to play it cool though, I ain't gonna wimp out on the first fishing trip, how would that look? We are idling along nice and slow and I'm thinking everything is cool, we are just going to take our time and idle on out to the camp and have breakfast and wait on daylight... Then he's gonna put me on the fish and I'm gonna have the fishing experience of a lifetime with a known legend in the fishing community...
About the time I started to relax, he punched the throttle and the Mako's bow raised up and then flattened out in a couple of seconds as she got on plane... We are flying through the darkness and I can't see a thing!!!! I feel I have made the mistake of a lifetime, I'm gonna die...
Coleman leans over and says loudly, "Hang on now, I've got to make some sharp turns because we are going through the bayou and the channel through here is narrow and if we get outside of it we'll run aground." Oh boy, that's just what I wanted to hear, we are going a good 30 knots and now all I can think about is being vaulted out over the bow when the Mako hits a sand bar and breaking my neck as my head is impaled in the sand like a spear...
In a way, I'm glad it's dark, Coleman can't see the look of fear on my face, which I'm sure would have been easy to see in the daylight... I'm sure this guy is crazy, and I'm wondering how he can still be alive...I expect to die any moment...
It seems to me we were zigzagging through that bayou for an hour, when Coleman brought her down off plane and ask me if I was ready to catch some trout... Before I could say "Yes" the bow of the Mako began to raise up ever so slowly as the boat parked itself on a sand bar...I looked down at my watch, it was 3:35 and still pitch black... I was really impressed...
Coleman bailed out with his gear and I did the same... I followed him as he waded along a shelf that obviously had a gut running along it, because if I moved toward where we were casting it got deeper very quickly... The tide was moving and I could feel the sand sift out from under my feet if I stood in one place to long.. Its still black, but once away from those running lights, my night vision kicked in, and I could actually see pretty good...
Coleman was about 50' ahead of me and we hadn't caught a thing.. I looked at my watch again, it was 4:15... I looked back at Coleman and his rod had that telltale bend in it, he was on... After a couple of minutes of battling that trout, he grabbed it behind the head and lifted it out of the water... It was a beautiful speckled trout in the 5 lb. range... He continued to hook up, time after time, and he never lost a fish that I saw... He was truly a great fisherman...
I finally hooked up with a nice trout and after a well fought battle the trout surrendered and I had one on the stringer... Meanwhile Coleman was wearing them out...
Then it happened, I had a monster hit and the rod bent double as the fish stripped line off the spool... For the briefest of moments I thought I had the world recond trout on, but when the fish turned and the tip of the rod started that telltale thump thump thumping I knew I had hooked a Jackfish...and he was a big one at that...
When in a big school of really nice trout, the very last thing you want to hook up with is a Jack... I spend the next twenty minutes trying to land that Jack, all the time Coleman is still catching trout... I finally got impatient and started pumping him in with the drag screwed down tight... Not a good idea as it turned out, I busted one of Coleman's custom Joe Ridings rods right at the butt, and my catching was done for the day...
Coleman was gracious about it, and said, whenever that happens to him, he just points the rod directly at the fish and puts his thumb on the spool... That let's the Jack break the line at the lure, and he just reels in and ties on another lure...
Coleman said the tide was done and the fishing was over anyway, but I think he was just trying to make me feel better... He had a limit and we went to his camp and cleaned em up for the skillet...
Coleman passed a few years back, but I'll always remember that trip.. He was a great fisherman, and he handled a boat pretty good too...
RIP Co-lee-man...