Too much red wine was consumed last night so this morning’s jaunt that commenced at 5:20 had a silver lining; the early walk would help alleviate any throbbing dregs of an evening that Advil and a go-cup of really potent black coffee could only partially erase.
This was my first walkabout since a triumphant return from Charleston in mid week. Nearly 10 lbs. of speckled trout filets accompanied me on the way back to Charlotte. So in that respect, the time on the water in my fishing kayak was nothing short of a success.
Less joyous, however, was what was seen floating by as I lay at anchor along a tidal creek at Bowens Island; plastic bottles, the lid from a demolished cooler and a corner portion of a smashed polystyrene container.
Now, you’ve heard me whine ad nauseam about such flotsam. But the whining is well placed. The ocean, along with my treasured tidal creeks, are an extension of your and my paths. It saddens me to no end that both the dry land and saltwater routes suffer from the same inconsiderate treatment; none of this junk should be where it is. And beyond the debris that meanders by while I fish, that much more is seen lodged in the tall grasses that border the waterway. It detracts and to some degree spoils what is otherwise a glorious environment.
So as I traipsed about in the darkness from one side of Colony, Fairview and Sharon Roads to the other to retrieve and bag all manner of junk, my thoughts stayed on the sorry state of the tidal creeks. Both paths converge and in some ways are inseparable. One of these next trips I’m of a mind to keep the rods in the car and paddle up and down the fingerling creeks to capture and bag the menace that is oceanic litter. The fish I hope to catch deserve it.