By Kathryn Birren
Special to The Islander
’Twas the night before mullet season when all through the village not a husband was home there was no one around.
The nets were all hung by the fisherman with care in hopes that the mullet run soon would be there.
My crew in their slickers and new boots and caps took a few moments to take a quick nap.
When out on gulf there roared such a sound, like thunder the fish, they showered all around, away to our nets we flew like a flash, tore open the box lid threw the net, splash.
The moon shone the silver of each jumping fish, I knew at that moment I was getting my wish. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, my buddy, his boat and his fishing gear.
The skinny, tall captain driving so quick I knew in a moment it was my buddy, Nick.
More rapid than eagles his crew they all came and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now Bird Dog, now Jimmy, Skinny and Boe, on Judd, now on Psycho, on Bones and Joe. Grab the ends of the net, to the water now go, dash away, dash away, dash away throw.
The slickers they bought and the boots they had worn, became covered in fish scales, soaked clothes became torn.
The great nets were sinking the corks all around, the weight of the fish was taking it down.
The captains they shouted, to their crews gave a shout and away they all pulled and got the net out.
They spoke but few words while they cleared all the fish, that night on the water they got their great wish.
In pulling the last of the net in the boat, they knew they were loaded almost too much to float. We started the engines, we eased our way back. Our great load of mullet took hours to pack.
The crew sprang to their trucks, to their friends gave a shout, the fish scales they flew as they headed on out. But I heard them exclaim as they drove out of sight, “That was the best mullet fishing night of my life!”
Editor’s note: Kathryn Birren wrote the poem in December 2015, while living and working on a boat with her husband. She had moved from New Jersey to the Florida Keys and in Marathon met her husband, Ronald, who grew up in Cortez. She now resides in Hernando Beach and her fishing poetry can be found on her Facebook page, Creative Commercial Fishing Tales.
About mullet season
Fishers often count on mullet cash to sweeten their Christmas shopping.
Typically the mullet runs annually in the Gulf of Mexico off Florida coasts, including Anna Maria Island, between late December to February.
Falling water temperatures can signal the start of the spawning trek.
Cold fronts with northwesterly winds and a dropping barometric pressure trigger mullet migration from canals, backwater and shallows in large schools to spawn in the Gulf of Mexico.
Catching the mullet before they spawn is the fishers’ goal.
State law prohibits spearing fish and limits gear to two cast nets, no longer than 14 feet, and two beach or haul seines per vessel. Hook-and-line fishing is allowed, but mullet are not attracted to bait.
— Lisa Neff