Winter Fishing

by Captain Perry Wrinkle

It’s definitely winter. The first two weeks of January did a fine job of proving this. The wind blew so hard it grounded all the seagulls and it got so cold my mothballs froze in the closet. I have thawed my water pipes so many times that my neighbor asked me if I was heating my hot water by hand. My truck wouldn’t start and my hot water heater sprung a leak. I just love Maine this time of the year.

My friend, Diamond Jack, calls me about four times a week to give me the weather report in Florida and invite me and the old woman to come down and stay with them a couple of weeks. I finally had to tell him that January and February are the only times of year that we Maineiacs get to enjoy our state without the clutter of all those picked ears. We don’t have to stand in line at the store or the gas stations. No yard sales or yard salers. I can haul my traps without untangling every pair, nothing in them, but I enjoy it when and if we get a day when its calm and above freezing. It gives a fellow a real appreciation of life on the Maine coast. I keep telling myself this same BS as everyday it gets colder and a little more windy.

I was in the shower with my teeth chattering like I had a mouth full of Chiclets when I noticed the water rising around my ankles. I shut her down just before the water started running over the stall. Alas, the drain was frozen. I poured about a bucket of fish salt down it and rammed it down with a plunger. I started the old woman’s car to warm it up and told her to get ready, we would go grocery shopping and the salt should clear the drain while we were gone.

We were gone a couple of hours and when we got back I saw that some of the water had drained down, but there was still a couple inches in the shower. I gave it another charge of salt. I decided I had better check the cellar again, so I crawled into my arctic clothes and started around to the outside cellar door. By this time it was afternoon and the wind chill had been about -5 degrees on my thermometer.

I opened the outside door and “damn,” I guess I had forgotten to close the inside door knob on one of my previous trips ’cause my cellar looked just like a bat cave with icicles hanging down everywhere. There was a skim coat of ice all over the floor. I finally discovered to my relief that the water had drained down from the flooded shower stall. I took one last look, turned off the light, closed both doors securely and decided it could stay that way until spring. I thought maybe the grandkids would want to go skating down there if it stayed this cold outside.

I went to the harbor next morning and noted that most of the boats were frozen in. Mine was still swinging clear on her mooring, but it looked like the only way I could get aboard was if I had a toboggan with water wings on it. Not that I wanted to, as the wind was still about 35 knots from the northeast. The temperature had finally gotten above 0 degrees for the first time in four days, but plus 15 degrees wasn’t really a heat wave.

There are a few things you have to learn if you are to be a real Maineiac: First, you must learn patience, you must be real patient and be able to hole up for long periods without going stir crazy or catching that contagious “cabin fever.” Second, you have to be tougher than a junkyard dog with an attitude, nothing can get you down. Third, and most important, you must realize, “You ain’t right, Bubba, you just ain’t right,” especially if you decide to fish all winter!

Good Fishing,
Captain Perry Wrinkle