The Smoke Must Have Been Going Straight Up

Drew and Cynthia on their wedding day

Some time during every one's life they will meet someone special.  Someone you call "friend".  One of those people in my life is Drew Kimura.  A devoted family man,  excellent work ethic and a love of the outdoors.  He has been an avid surfer most of his life and likes to fish.  It was the fishing that inspired this story.

We worked together for a number of years and he was always trying to get me to go fishing with him.
I like fishing, but am not overly enthusiastic about it.  My idea of a good day fishing is sitting on the bank in a lawn chair and hoping that I don't catch anything I will have to clean.  I like to throw 'em back.

One day Drew came to me and said let's take a day of vacation tomorrow and go fishing.  The smoke is going to be going straight up.  This meant that there would be no wind and supposedly the fishing would be good.   I agreed to go and signed up for a day of vacation. 

We met somewhere before daylight.  I mean,  it was really early and really dark.  We drove to Bolivar Peninsula and planned to start fishing about daylight at Rollover Pass.  It started raining on the drive down there.  When we got there we started to fish between down pours.  At one point I said, "Drew, you know, if we left right now, we could get back to the plant and not waste a vacation day".  Being
the optimist, he said, "No, it's going to clear up".  So we kept fishing. 

I had not even had a bite and was wet and cold.  I decided to go sit in the car for a while.  Drew climbed out on the pilings, using his surfing balance skills to keep from falling into the surf.  He managed to catch a red fish, trout or something.  I tried another time or two with no luck.  By now we had been there awhile and I was miserable.  I mentioned that if we left then we could get back to work and only have to take a half day vacation.  Drew was still wanting to fish and suggested that we go to "The Pocket" at the other end of the Peninsula.  We did and no better luck.  By then I was hating fishing and not too fond of Drew either. 

Drew catching a wave in his advanced years

Finally we called it a day and started back.  As we drove home it had stopped raining but water was over the beach road near High Island. We turned on the radio and caught the news.  The weatherman came on and said that it had rained eleven (11) inches in Winnie that day.  I don't know what the smoke was doing because visibility had been limited to 10 feet all day long.

I have not fished with Drew since.  He is a good man and still a good friend.  He has been successful in his life, has a beautiful wife, great kids and now grand kids.  But, I tell you one thing,
"He ain't no meteorologist.

No Smoke