I’ve been hitting the river a couple of time a week. Digging shells, as Shelldiggers are wont to do. It’s a unique job, combining water aerobics, with dragging a boat behind you, and weight lifting, all into one activity. I’m tethered to a boat with my lifeline, which is a good sturdy rope duct taped (Red Green anyone?) to my air line. Air is supplied with an oilless compressor in the boat, driven by an 6.5hp IC engine.

So I get my boat to the water, launch it, park the truck, motor to a spot I know has shell there, or a new spot I hope has shell there, get all my gear situated for a dive, wrestle my way into a wet suit, and damn, I’ve already done more work than your average Joe manages in an entire day before I’ve even gotten wet.

Now I will crank the compressor engine, and I’ll watch the pressure guage as I’m getting ready to make a dive. I have to put on my knee pads, and pull on my diggers. Diggers are cheap ass faux leather wally world boots, that each have a modified flat bar, nail puller, bolted to them, with about 2.5″ of the flat bar protruding from the toes on the underside of the boot, made em myself. This protrusion allows for much greater traction on hardpan clay, steep inclines, and especially windy days. No shelldigger worth his weight in styrofoam goes without diggers. Side note, I knew, and thought very highly of the guy who came up with diggers. He was my friend and very well thought of, in the local diver community. Sadly he died digging shells on the Cumberland river many years ago. I really liked that guy. He had a family too…

Where was I? Ok, got my diggers on, time to get into my weight belt/harness, buckle that bad boy up, spit in a mask, rub that spit around (spit is a great defogger and it’s always in the boat,) rinse it off with a dunk in the river, put on the mask, then put on my helmet. Yeah, I said helmet. It has a 12v halogen bulb on it, that runs off my boat battery. The boat battery doesn’t drain because that 6.5 hp engine is also driving an old 1 wire style alternator, incorporated into the air compressor system, that keeps my battery charged. I started using a light back in 1990 digging shells on the Cumberland River. It turned dives that were absolute and complete lack of visibility, the sort of darkness that can only be reproduced in the depths of caves, the bottom of the ocean, or the bottom of a river 50-60 feet deep, into dives where I could at least see the river bottom within 2 feet of my surroundings. The light, not needed in shallower water so much, still comes in handy for identifying things you might pick up down there, or at times it helps you spot shells that might be keepers.

Now, I put a shell bag around my neck, attach a float rope to my weight belt, so I can tie off the sack and send the float up so I can motor to it later, and get that sack in the boat after I have get 2-3 sacks full. Time to pull anchor and jump in.

Dig shells, till I get a good sack. Usually between 80-100 lbs. Float that sack, fill another. Float that sack and get in the boat for lunch. You don’t realize all of that weight in the water, but when you pull it into the boat you notice it then. The shells, well everything, has some amount of buoyancy in the water. I usually make 2 long dives per day. Putting in 4-5.5 hours of downtime per day. Sometimes 6.

Well, I’m getting to be too old for this shit. And I have a chronic pain back condition. So I’m limited to 2 days a week max. I used to do this 6-7 days a week, but I was much younger then and hadn’t broke my back down yet 🙂

So, a couple days back I put in a good day. I’m wore out, physically exhausted, but still have to manufacture the energy to get this boat loaded up, and arrange my boat stuff for trailering, move a few buckets into the back of the truck to keep the load on the trailer down, and get back into my street clothes.

As I’m on the way to the truck, I see a bass boat on the water, pretty much right in my direction of travel. I can swing wide if I want to, but I don’t want to. I decided to take a straight shot to my truck, and slow down to idle by the fishermen in the boat instead of making a wide turn around them at speed. Perfectly acceptable water ethics. I’ve done this for decades with no issues, usually I’ll exchange a wave and a nod to people in this situation, all is well as I idle by, leaving no wake to endanger or irritate anyone, and then I motor up and move on my way. No harm, no foul. But this time, the guys in the boat seemed agitated.

Angry even. As I got closer both guys were standing up with a wtf? stance, pissed that I dared to get this close to them. I’m idled down and slowly passing and they start yelling, so I get a little closer to hear them, curious what the hell their problem is. Turns out these guys are mad because in their opinion I was too close.

They are yelling at me, and I gather they feel I’m in their “casting range” and not happy about it. I responded with “thats the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard, from a bass fisherman.”

From the encyclopedia of Shelldigger, under the heading “Bass Fishermen”: Bass: noun, a type of fish. Fishermen: noun, plural, people who catch fish with nets, or traps, and often rod and reel, for fun and food.

Bass fishermen, are a sub species of human. They tend to have really fast boats that costs boatloads of $$, and often frequent inland waters, lakes, and rivers, in search of bass. They catch these bass for sport and participate in tournament fishing, where the biggest catch provides them cash rewards and lot of jealousy from the other fishermen who did not fare so well. These sub humans, are so honest, the winners have to go through a rigorous lie detector test in any tournament they win, because so many of them have been caught cheating over the years. Regular Trumpers.

Bass fishermen run up and down rivers and lakes at frightening speeds. Exceeding 70-80 mph. Which is very damn fast on the water. They put little value in no wake zones, people in other boats, and especially diver down flags. They will not stop to help a stranded boat on the water. In some cases they will not even deign to even speak to an actual human when approached, probably in fear of a conversation that might ensue, well above their ability to think. There should be an entire scientific field of study on bass fishermen, and their complete lack of empathy, and concern, for other boats/people on the water they inhabit. This concludes the entry in the encyclopdia of Shelldigger.

“That’s the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard from a bass fisherman.” Oh that riled em up. The guy at the stern hereafter referred to as Dumb, he was short, a bit stocky, sunglasses, and suffering from little man syndrome, he was cussing me and tried to take a few steps towards me, I guess he was going to kick my ass, and he ran into the console of the boat. I suppose that’s good because unless he is Jesus he wouldn’t have walked too well when he got to the water. Dipstick. The other guy, henceforth known as Ass, he was the ringleader, I can read assholes from 100 yards. I knew he was the one to keep an eye on. Ass took a more steadied stance and was busy trying to size me up when I responded with “I’ve been out here for forty fucking years, and ain’t none of you sons of bitches EVER cut me any slack.”

Well Dumb, he continued hurling invectives my way, while Ass just sort of stood there. I just shook my head, and now well clear of my wake causing them any discomfort, I headed for the truck, didn’t give them the pleasure of looking back.

A couple of Billy Bob redneck bass fishermen, going to educate me on water ethics. I don’t think so.

The thing that stands out to me though, is the readiness to jump straight to verbal abuse and a threat of physical altercation. These guys are obviously a sub genus to the usual sub human bass fisherman type.

Redneckithis dumbassicus moronicus.

Whatever happened to real people?

Y’all stay safe out there. Beware of Bass Fishermen.