Just Angling for January 7, 1999
By Donald Millus
New Year's Eve Leaves No Hangovers
Some folks give up on winter fishing, and I hardly blame them. It's cold, it's not always or even usually productive, and there are a lot of good football teams on television, unless you are a Carolina or Clemson fan. Two fine young Clemson grads, the Chris's Millus and Pearce, wimped out on my New Year's Eve trip because the forecast was for nasty weather with temperatures staying in the forties. I went anyway.
I didn't go just because I had to prove myself tougher than the kids. (Been there, done that.) I didn't go to let them think they were smarter, but considering that I had to pay for the education of one of them, they knew they were! I went out of a sense of obligation to my readers, many of whom don't get to go out in the inlet, especially in rotten weather, to realize how smart they are to stay home.
Secondly, my most cherished Christmas gift had arrived, after all, of course, the love and affection of wife, children, dog, cat, catfish in the tank, etc., etc. It was from L.L. Bean, an extra large Maine warden's jacket, waterproof, with deep pockets, a warm hood that didn't flop over your eyes, and a length that more than covered my ample butt and a good portion of my handsome, but subject to cold, legs. In short, the ideal jacket for those days that don't require a one-piece skimobile suit, but where the wind chill may dip into the thirties. The small of the back stays warm!
Thirdly, I was celebrating Dr. Eckert's painless removal of a cracked tooth that Dr. Tom Badgett thought might cause problems. Even though I had to journey to Myrtle Beach the previous day, it was nice to wake up with no pain where I feared being a couch convalescent for a few days. Dr. Eckert had suggested a soup supper, but Pat's sausage and tomato sauce with angel hair pasta had tempted me to try eating lopsided and it had worked fine.
Fourthly, the full moon was not yet here and the winter trout sometimes bite until a day or so after it.
Fifthly, my Chris had installed a new seat in the boat to ease my old back and I had to try it.
At the inlet, the water was calm, the sun was shining, and I was sweating so hard after five minutes of fishing, I had to take the wonderful warm coat off, at least when I stopped at the mouth of shallow bay, one island, Charlie Creek, the jetties and spots in between. Nothing hit either my MirrOlures in red and white, yellow and white, rattles, lips, and various weights. Ditto the Cotee grubs in green with glitter. Not even a blue fish for New Year's Eve sushi!
I had a small garden cultivator in the boat and I spent about an hour digging up some fifty of the deliciously saltiest Atlantic hardshelled clams I had even harvested. As usual, superb with cold Ice House before a New Year's Day dinner of Amy Sander's corn bread with jalapeno peppers, Dr. Joey Sander's grill roasted loin of pork, and Pat Millus's collard greens plus cold black-eyed peas with chopped onion, garlic, and green peppers, "Texas Caviar."
What a nice way to start the penultimate year of the twentieth century and the second millennium, even if the trout and blues turned down our invitation. Now if we can get some decent roads and get rid of the insidious video poker machines and their bought and sold politicians, it will be a great year.