Spawn of Satan

[Captmikestarrett]

It was many years ago and I had given a fishing trip to an organization for a raffle. The winner gets a day fishing for Stripers (convict bass) and spot tail drum in the hot months of Sept or August. At the time of this trip the lower Potomac was chock full of feisty stripers up to 28 inches and lots of spot tail drum around the rock piles and rip rap. It was a simple outing that guaranteed a good time. The winner contacted me and set a date during the week as to avoid the weekend crowds. He also wished to fish a second day and said he would gladly pay for it. So I set him up at a local hotel and picked him up on a beautiful clear day with light winds. I had to use my bass boat due to my center console was in the shop. It is a sleek Gambler of 19 feet and a fresh motor only a year old provided plenty of power. This boat flew around 60 mph and could easily scare you straight. But I kept it at half throttle for my customers and only let the horses out of the yard when I was alone. That day when I arrived at the hotel the gent had a son who was, let’s say “The spawn of Satan”. This boy had issues for sure. He starts out by stepping on his dad’s expensive fly rod and breaking the tip in the parking lot of the hotel. His Dad takes it in stride and the boy starts screaming he did not do it. His speech is peppered with curse words. I guess he was about 12 years old and cursing like a sailor on shore leave.

We arrive at ramp and the spawn of Satan opens the door and runs down the beach picking rocks and throwing them into the water. He leaves the door open and I have to put it in park and walk around and close the rear passenger door. It was then I noticed him throwing rocks out in front of a couple of fishermen who where fishing the beach. They yell at him to stop please and he responds with more sailors like language. I act as if I did not know who this child was or where he came from.

The boat is launched and the boy corralled in to the boat. I require a life vest on my boat to be worn and the spawn of Satan is now pleading not wear one. At this point I am wondering if it is worth the hassle of dealing with this child. I give a stern look to Dad and he just put his hands up like “Nothing I can do” sign.

I decide to shut him up and gun the boat. We achieve mach 1 in 2 seconds flat and the boy is still. His mouth is wide open but no sound comes out. Dad is smiling the biggest grin I have ever seen.

Twenty minutes later we arrive at our first spot. Tide is right and fish are busting around us on all sides. Dad pulls out his only fly rod and proceeds to tie on a fly I gave him. Ten minutes later he has a fish on. He catches maybe 50 at that spot up to about 20 inches.

Meanwhile I am left to get “The spawn of Satan” hooked up. With wild casts and sporadic retrieves he luckily hooks a fish. This is where it gets weird…. “The spawn of Satan” hands me the rod. He wants me to real it in and take it off. I oblige and the dance continues for 15 more fish. Finally I mash down the barb to allow me to shake the fish off at the boat.

It is now two hours into the trip from hell with the “Spawn of Satan” and the tide is stopping. Also my trolling motor batteries are dying too.
The worst and unkind thing in all my guiding years happens then. I figure at this point the boy is content and I have made a connection with him and he is enjoying his day on the water. Fishing tends to allow those connections and break down barriers between adults and young men. Fishing is slowing down but I am packing stuff up for the next run where I will anchor up and start the fish catching all over again. He says to his Dad “This guide is terrible; where in the hell did you find him” “He really sucks” …. I was in shock and hurt. His dad turns around and says “He really likes to tell it like he sees it doesn’t he?”

I stood there mouth open and with no response I could come up with. My pride and heart have been stomped on by a 12 year old and a complacent dad. After the shock of that comment I began to get upset. And decided a break was needed for me to keep from killing the little brat. We headed in to the dock at 10am.

Dad was complacent again about this turn about of events. We dock and tie up. I hooked up an extension cord to my charger and started recharging my batteries. I asked them to find something to do around the docks while I cool down. About twenty minutes later I am in the ships store and I see the boy running from my boat with one of my fishing rods. I walk out to find that he had hit the tilt switch and crushed the rear deck panel into the motor. The motor cowling was broke in half and the deck plate bent like a horseshoe. He screamed as he ran away “I did not do it”

Two hours later I have the motor cowling duck taped into position and with the help of some the people around the docks we managed to get the deck lid straight enough to close it. It took four persons standing on each side to bend the aircraft aluminum deck lid straight.

We went out for another hour but the bite was over and the day as far as I was concerned was over. But not without one more incident. The last straw was when the “The spawn of Satan” threw my rod in to forty feet of water. Day is over.

Back at the dock dad purchased a cold adult beverage while the boy ran up and down the beach. He explained he was ADD and hypertensive with some terrets too. Dad asked if the red hots are good here and I said if can handle them YES. We each had one and another beverage to put out the fire.

Later that night he calls from the hotel room and says he will not be able to make the second day due to intestinal issues from the earlier red hot..

Yes… no pay but I was happy none the less. I danced a little jig.