09/25/2019
Remembering Gretna:
Move To Paradise
A bit of a side story to set up the Gretna story.
Pennie and I were both working for the National Drug and Safety League which helped place drug awareness in the police and sheriff’s departments throughout the United States. Pennie and I happened to both be working in the Rockport/Port Aransas area at the same time and both fell in love with the quaint little fishing town and tourist area along the South Texas coast, We decided to look at homes for sale and quickly got the idea that maybe we shouldn’t be pricing homes in Rockport since the average price for water access homes seemed to be in the $500,000 range and up, a little steep for retired public servants. As a last resort the realtor said, “OK, there is one house that sits on a canal, is priced close to the range you are looking for but…” Oh crap, here comes the bad news. The realtor continued, “the couple divorced and he got the house, is a heavy smoker, and had 2 Dobermans that stayed in the house and you will know that from the smell. I have had the cleaning crew working on it for two days and the windows are open so it can air out. Would you want to look at it?” We decided to give it a look. Although the smell was as bad as imagined, the view and the potential moved us to make a low ball offer. On the way back to Dallas we looked at each other and said, “Are we crazy. We already have a house in Garland. Why are we trying to buy this before selling that one?” So we decided on the most logical step: ask God for a sign.
As we were driving towards Victoria, a bright ball of fire streaked across the sky directly in front of us and slowly fizzled out. Mind you, this is shortly after noon and I didn’t think a shooting star would be visible. Pennie, however, took that as a sign. Being the ultimate skeptic, I said “Nope, I need something that doesn’t leave room for doubt”. As we were driving into Hallettsville, we topped a hill and to the right was a large billboard that read Looking for a sign from God? This is it. We looked at each other and laughing. Pennie says “Well, is that clear enough for you?” Almost immediately she looked at her phone and noticed a message had arrived but the phone had never sounded. Checking messages, our realtor notified us that the bid had been accepted. We moved to Paradise on Christmas day 2000, at midnight, in the middle of a torrential downpour.
Now onto Gretna’s story…
Gretna, being the avid bass fisherman that she was, we felt compelled to invite her to Rockport to catch some real fish. You know, the kind you can actually eat? She accepted and on New Year’s Day she came down and we chartered a guide. What a trip! We each caught our limit, the guide let us have his limit, and Gretna didn’t fall out of the boat. Not long after, Gretna scheduled another trip to Rockport, this time bringing her bass boat.
For those of you not familiar with the Intercoastal Canal as it runs along the Texas coast, allow me to explain. This man-made deep water canal allows barge and, in some places, ships to navigate this coastal regions of the Gulf of Mexico from Texas to Florida. Running sometimes as deep as 60+ feet and a couple of hundred feet across it is deceptive because the edges can be as shallow as a foot or less in depth. Thus begins the tale of Gretna’s introduction to the Intercoastal Canal.
Early one spring morning the three of us are running south on the Intercoastal Canal between Windjammer Estates and Rockport, a chill still lingering as we fly past marsh grass that lines the canal. Occasionally we see other boats along the canal or in offsets or cuts that wind through the flats (shallow water). As Gretna navigates the center of the canal she sees a boat with 2 fishermen in it about five feet from the right bank or shore. Most fishermen, when approaching a stationary boat, will courteously move away from the stationary boat so as not to rock the boat with the wake from the moving boat. Moving at approximately 35 mph per hour, Gretna swerved left to put distance between the boats as opposed to decreasing speed. Suddenly the Yamaha 175hp motor kicks out of the water, over revving, the engine cowling flies open, the forward movement of the boat stops immediately and there is fouls smelling muck raining down from the sky as Gretna’s bass boat has discovered the 60 feet to 6 inch change of depth, we being in the 6 inch part. Gretna jumps up and tells Pennie and me to just stay seated, that she screwed up and she would fix it. She then looks over at the boat she was so politely trying to avoid, the fishermen staring back probably wondering where this boat load of ”dumb***es” came from, and yelled, “Don’t worry about me, I am insured against stupidity” and proceeded to jump into the water and single-handedly pushed the boat to deeper water.
Lesson learned: Do your homework, devise a plan, be willing to take ownership when plan goes out the door and apologize when apology is warranted.
