This article by Ray Spitzenberger first appeared in IMAGES May 26, East Bernard Express, East Bernard, Texas.
A few days ago, my son-in-law and my daughter took their kayaks to Matagorda, as they often do, for some fishing in the bay. Hearing about the fish they caught and fun they had brought back memories of years past when the Son-in-Law and I owned a bay boat and fished in Matagorda Bay.
In those days, I called him the “Captain,” because of his expertise with piloting a boat and fishing. Some of my readers may remember my Images columns about the many fishing expeditions the Captain and I enjoyed. Kayaking was always too much of a physical challenge for me; today, even bay-boating would be too much of a challenge.
The Captain still goes bay boat fishing with his second oldest brother, as well as kayaking with his wife. Don’t know who’s Captain, but I’m guessing he is.
By the way, Matagorda Bay is known as one of the best kayaking and kayak fishing places on the Texas coast. The Bay was first discovered when French explorer, de La Salle, and his four ships, ended up in Matagorda Bay by accident in the 1680’s. Spanish explorers, Cabeza de Vaca and Lope De Oviedo had traveled down Matagorda Peninsula in 1533. But neither the Spanish nor the French was the first to fish in Matagorda Bay.
No, it was the Karankawa Indians (we called them “Indians” before the term “Native Americans” was used), who lived from Galveston Bay to Corpus Christi Bay. The Karankawas were nomads, having been in North America about 2,000 years. As a teenager, I was an avid student of the Karankawas and all other Texas Indian tribes.
When Cabeza de Vaca and Lope De Oviedo traveled down Matagorda Peninsula in the 16rh Century, they were attacked by the Quevenes, a branch of the Karankawas. The Spanish were helped in fighting the Quevenes by the Deaguanas. The Quevenes wanted to kill de Vaca, and they were enemies of the Deaguanes. Great hostility developed between the Spanish and the Karankawas. Historians question whether the Karankawas actually were cannibals as the Spanish called them.
In any case, fishing was good year around on Matagorda Peninsula where the different tribes would wade-fish with bow and arrows. When de La Salle later discovered Matagorda Bay, he saw the Karankawas using canoes while fishing with bow and arrows.
The Captain and his wife don’t fish with bow and arrows as the Karankawas did, but they do use kayaks which are not that different from a Karankawa canoe. To be sure, the Indians had no way to “invent” gasoline-powered bay boats which probably came into widespread use in Matagorda in the 1950’s, fiberglass bay boats, like the one the Captain and I had, quite a bit later.
Canoes and kayaks are excellent for paddling into very difficult-to-get-to-places in the bay. Bay boats can perform in shallow water that’s not too shallow, flat boats are better for the hard-to-get-to spots, the bay boat having a sharper V in its hull. When I was a much younger adult, I went lake fishing in a rowboat, and at the end of a long day, barely had the energy to row back to the dock.
No doubt the Karankawas went fishing to survive, as I’m not sure how much wild game was available on coastal edge lands. Today, folks go fishing for various reasons, the primary one being enjoyment.
And enjoyment comes in many shapes and forms. I must confess, for me, it was the quiet joy of seeing sunrises and sunsets on the Bay, waterfowl of all kinds, the glimmering beauty of the bay water itself. For the Captain and his wife, no doubt it’s the physical challenge of using oars, and the thrill of finding spots abundant with fish, as well as mastering the skill of casting with rod and reel. And, too, enjoying the beauty of Matagorda. On one fishing trip, the Captain’s wife sent me an iPhone video of a sleepy heron searching for fish in shallow water. Delightful video.
My fishing days are over, but memories are enjoyed again and again. The older you get, the more you cherish memories.
-o-
Ray Spitzenberger is a retired Wharton County Junior College teacher, a retired Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod pastor, and author of three books, It Must Be the Noodles, Open Prairies, and Tanka Schoen.