Hep Hep the Fisherman

After an early meeting this morning, my friend Amie and I went out for breakfast and then for a stroll along the river.  We hadn't been to the river-walk since the city blew up the dam, so we wanted to see if there were truly "white water rapids" as planned.  There were.

The mighty Chattahoochee was running higher and wider than ever before, and both sides were lined with fishing birds and men.  For several fascinating minutes we watched six great herons on our side of the river, chomping down fat, silver minnows, and jockeying for the "alpha heron" position.  The largest one stood about 4 feet tall, and when he squawked, the others listened. We were in a glorious bubble of natural beauty.  That is, until Hep Hep the Fisherman arrived on the scene.

About 100 paces down the walk to our right, a sunburned old fisherman with wild white hair was walking toward us with his fishing rod and line over the railing--with a "big one" apparently on the hook.  It was sort of like he was walking a large aquatic dog, though we couldn't see the catch.  We could definitely see the strain on the line and the man's face however, and as he came ever nearer, he started yelling, "HEP! HEP!"

We weren't sure to whom he was directing his plea.  There were fisherman on the other side of us, so we hoped it was to them.  Hep was the kind of guy who, when he yells "Hep! Hep!" really loud in a frantic manner, looks as if he might be crazy, dangerous, or both.  We stepped back from the railing to let him and his "big one" pass.

A beef cakey younger fisherman (I'll call him Josh) who had been on our left called out to him, "You said you needed Help?"

"Yeah, I got a big one!" cried Hep.

Josh had descended the large concrete steps along the edge of the river walk and was standing at water level.  He had a 5 gallon pail, and was preparing to assist Hep.

"DON'T TOUCH THE LINE!" screamed Hep.

"Yes, I know not to touch the line, Jed, we've been through this before," said Josh.

"DON'T TOUCH THE LINE!" screamed Hep again.

Amie and I watched the action from a safe distance, anticipating the appearance of a Hep's gigantic haul.

Suddenly, I saw a silver minnow, like the kind the herons had been eating, on the end of Hep's line.

"Is that the fish?" I asked Amie incredulously.

"No, I think that's the bait," she replied.

"DON'T TOUCH THE -- DAMN IT GOT OFF!!!" screamed Hep.

Amie and I quickly left the scene.  Something told us we didn't want to be around Hep when he was angry.