OK I'll continue the story. But I have to back up - about a year before Katrina, wife and I went to Iuka for world class bass fishing at Pickwick Lake. Stayed at a motel and hired a professional guide, Roger Stegall. Great trip, fantastic fishing
The sign in the motel lobby said "Pets have never been belligerent or drunk or rude or ruined property here. Your pets are welcome. And if you behave yourself, you are welcome here also". So I filed that in my head.
Fast forward to Katrina. It's time to pack the car and leave. All well-known name brand motels within 800 miles are booked. I'm desperate to make a reservation, somewhere, anywhere, that takes 2 dogs. I remembered the motel in Iuka, called them, they had one room left.
Drove all night and half the next day in bumper to bumper traffic. Arrived and ended up staying a week. I remember polishing Russkit motor brackets outside on a wood picnic bench with a portable Dremel
So here is my Katrina fishing story. The nice couple that offered us to live at their place on the shore of Lake Pickwick took us fishing on their party barge. We drove down the lake a mile or so and picked up a neighbor who had just retired as a doctor. He is looking for a new hobby, fishing. He has all brand new gear but admits he's a complete newbie.
Since the boat owner knows I'm retired sportfishing boat captain and Navy, he says "You drive, Paul, find the fish". I remembered one spot where Roger, my wife and myself caught a bass every cast the year before. The boat has a fishfinder and a lake chart so I'm thinking "Man this is like a dream come true". We motor on down the lake.
I found the offshore ledge no problem. And the fish were stacked, buddy, I mean loaded with fish. The owner stands by with the anchor, I go upwind of the spot and say "Drop". I back down and say "Hold and tie it off" then I shut off the motor.
As I turn around to grab a rod and fish, the retired doctor had cast a brand new lazer sharpened hook crankbait as we settled back on the anchor and immediately caught a nice sized Hybrid Striper. Upon trying to release the fish, one of the hooks absolutely buried itself into his thumb. To the hilt.
If it had been me, I'd have cut the lure off and kept fishing. It was a brand new clean hook. But the doctor wasn't much of a trooper. So we pulled the anchor and went home. Man, those fish were READY
Pickwick Lake - small town, fantastic fishing, catfish longer than a man's arm. Maybe that is my future. At this point, I'm just dreaming