Hide, Horn, Fish, and Fowl: Texas Hunting and Fishing Lore

FISHING FROM INDIANOLA TO BOCACHICA AND WATERS IN BETWEEN

Dewey Granberry fishing, 1959 7978-ch03.pdf 10/6/11 8:16 AM Page 188 FISHING FROM INDIANOLA TO BOCA CHICA AND WATERS IN BETWEEN by Jean Granberry Schnitz  In the early 1900s, on the banks of the San Antonio River near the little town of Choate in Karnes County, Texas, Dewey Lafayette Granberry discovered that it was fun to catch fish. Not only that, but fish added variety to the diet of a large family experiencing hard times. After his father died at the age of twenty-eight, when Dewey was only two years old, his mother and two brothers went to live with his grandparents in Karnes County. Dewey, my father, joined the United States Navy in 1917, when he was eighteen years old. He did a pretty good job of seeing the world during World War I, but that love of fishing endured throughout his lifetime, providing my family with many exciting adventures. Dad’s fishing trips spelled something different for each member of my family, but for me they spelled “fun.” My brother, Billy Granberry, actually fished with Dad, but Mama used the time for beachcombing or what we now call “birding.” Grandpapa was an avid fishing buddy for Dad, but Grandmama spent the time writing letters or joining Mama and me in exploring the area near where the fishing was going on. The rule for me was to “stay in sight,” but that left plenty of opportunity to explore. I could swim, climb trees, dig in the sand, pick up shells, or any of dozens of other activities— so long as I could be seen by the fishermen or by Mama. When we lived in Victoria from 1936 to 1944, there were many interesting places to catch fish, including in the Guadalupe River just a few blocks from our home. Dad took me with him as we walked down the hill to the river. Our job was to catch grasshoppers , lizards, and/or frogs to be used as bait. We soon learned not to approach the river bank without carefully surveying the bank for water moccasins. There was a sunken barge near where we reached the river, and I still cringe when I remember seeing dozens of fat, 189 7978-ch03.pdf 10/6/11 8:16 AM Page 189 black moccasins soaking up sun on the deck of that barge. Usually, they slithered into the river when we approached. We always threw some well-placed rocks to be sure they had all gone swimming before stepping down onto the deck. No way would I have put one toe into the water of the Guadalupe River at that location! We kept a careful watch to be sure the barge was not visited by another moccasin while Dad caught enough fish for several meals. Dad was careful to catch only as many fish as our family could eat or share with the neighbors for a few days. We had no room in our freezer for anything but a few ice cubes, and we didn’t have enough money to rent a freezer locker. When I say we ate fish, I mean we ate FRIED fish. Once in a great while, Mama baked some fish (usually flounder), but almost always it was fried. She salted and peppered it and dipped it into corn meal before frying it in bacon fat. Even though we had plenty of eggs, I don’t remember ever seeing her dip the fish into beaten eggs before coating it with corn meal. We fried everything in bacon fat, which made things taste much better than it does fried in more healthful oils. One summer we went back to Choate and camped on the San Antonio River where Dad had fished as a boy. He was able to identify several large trees he had accidentally planted when he went fishing there so long ago. He had stuck his fishing poles into the ground at his favorite locations along the river bank. Amazingly, some of them took root and grew! He showed my brother and me how he had cut fishing poles from small tree limbs that were as long and strong as he could find. Fish hooks were made from wire found on the farm. He showed us how they baited hooks for trot lines with pieces cut from suet or sometimes homemade lye soap deemed useful for that purpose. It didn...