By By Adam Prestridge
Some fishing lure companies claim their products can catch anything.
I beg to differ.
A couple of weeks ago, I decided to grab the fishing rods and tackle and head to the beach to do some saltwater fishing.
What I didn't know is that it would be one of the most interesting fishing trips I've ever been on.
While my cousin Micah and I were fishing in a bay along the Gulf of Mexico in Orange Beach, we began to notice a black shadow beginning to cast over us, but thought it was storm clouds moving in. We were shocked when we looked up and saw a swarm of seagulls hovering over us. Some were big and others were small, but we both noted one huge seagull soaring way up high as if it was overseeing the flock.
We didn't think much of the birds and continued to fish. An hour went by and we were catching fish after fish. It was a great day of fishing.
What we didn't know was that the seagulls agreed.
A few minutes of chatting about whose fish was bigger went by, and when we looked next to us, the "head" seagull was standing right next to us. He might as well said, "Boo" because after the initial shock of seeing the huge bird next to us, we ran for the hills or in this case the pool. In fact, I was running so fast that I ran out of my flip-flops. As for Micah, he couldn't stop laughing when he saw my blurred image fly past him.
Everybody in the pool at the condominium we were fishing next to began laughing at us hysterically and our wives were as well. Their laughter was short lived though when "Big Bird" started making his way toward the crowd. Thankfully he backed off and went back to our fishing spot.
After a few minutes, he managed to get the saltwater catfish I had caught off my hook and flew away. But that wasn't the last we saw of him.
We decided to go back to our fishing spot and see if our luck had run out. It hadn't. We continued to catch fish after fish and our new best friend was witnessing it all from his perch and decided to swoop back in for another visit.
Again, Micah and I were off to the races. After a few more tries accompanied by the same amount of interruptions, we called it quits, but not without me first chasing the bird around like a madman, fishing rod in hand trying to catch it. There must not be a lure designed to catch seagulls.
The irony of this story is that the next time we went fishing in the same bay, that same bird circled overhead and dive-bombed us once again.
I'm happy to say that we now have a new fishing spot, but every time we pass the condo where that aggravating bird lives, I look up in the sky and see him looking down on us laughing.
Don't worry though, we'll have the last laugh.
Adam Prestridge is publisher of the Atmore Advance. His column appears weekly.