Bobby's Fish Camp
Ananda
Ron Welch
Sun 12 Dec 2010 03:05
Funny thing this,telling the story of your life........ what I notice is,the story of "my", "our", life does not contain much at this point beyond the pleasures and beauty discovered in engaging in something new. The picture looks very new and there is a great gift in the immensity of being present, because the day to day activities of this sailing experience are so different and bring a fresh way of being to life. Every moment holds unexperienced potential and yet, I am sure the mundanity of day to day boat life will perhaps over time sneak in. It may not be quite as amusing to pull out the couch cushion to get a can of soup....yes, the food is stored behind the couch....and the sweetness of supporting each other at the helm, could become wearying. However the newness, the freshness of a constant river of new faces it seems does not cease. And this, I am coming to realize is the true source of "color" in this life style. The people who we cross paths with.
Already we have seen amazing natural beauty, the sunsets alone, are enough to make the chatter of the mind stop, and let the heart truly see, It is the openness and kindness of the people we have met that is the source of the most interesting stories thus far. One cannot help but be amazed by the interconnectedness and interdependence of nature if they observe anything in their immediate surroundings........it is this interdependence and interconnectedness that is surfacing as natural human behavior on our trip down the water way.
Tied up to the dock at Bobby's Fish Camp, after a night aground at anchorage, below freezing temperatures, howling winds, only a little space heater to provide warmth, and my eye would not stop weeping. Itchy, scratchy, sand like feeling inside of it. It didn't make sense to push on down the river in these conditions with a crew member out of commission. I needed to see a doctor.
Laura, Bobby's daughter who runs the camp now, since he passed away in February, had just pulled up in her large four door white 4x4 truck. A beautiful robust woman in her late forties, she like her father, was born here is choctaw County and following in her "daddies" footsteps now is running the camp. I walked up the hill to ask her, a complete stranger to me at that point, if there was any way she could help us get a ride to the doctors to see about my eye. Without a moments hesitation....she respond "sure honey, I'll take you....just let me get a few things done, and ill be back to get ya"
Ms. Laura picked us up at one pm. She had called and the local Coffeeville doctors office was closed,so she was taking us to the next little town of Jackson, Al. We offered to take a taxi back. She just laughed. "Honey, we go to big cities to stare at taxis'. no one round here would know what one looks like". This beautiful spirit shared the history of the waterway in her families life while we travelled to Jackson sprinkled with coloquialisims like"madder 'an ten snakes in a bush hog".
Long and short of it is, this kind hearted stranger simply because of the interconnectedness of us as her guests at the Camp drove us to the next town, arranged for me to see the doctor, took us to pick up the prescription, and then dropped us off at the boat dock. Smiling and oozing southern comfort all the way..."..here take that...get it outta here. It's not ours, we're Alabama Fans, " were her parting words, as she asked us to please keep the Auburn Coozie Ron kicked in the floor bed of the truck with his foot as he jumped down out of that enormous white truck. We don't have a favorite team, but is sure do hope,we make it to weather where we will need a coozie soon.