Mixsonian Larry



My brother David was going to North Carolina to work at as a boy’s camp over the summer so he rode his motorcycle from Gainesville to see me in Melbourne while he was he was here we went fishing.

Beach Fishing
Fishing on the Beach
David, Craig, Paul and Eric

Of the guys in our group, Eric was really into fishing and got the rest of us into it. I had done freshwater fishing in lakes, pond and rivers while growing up, but this fishing was different, it was saltwater fishing.  After all, with miles of beaches and several inlets, it was the perfect place for saltwater fishing.  Eric would get us all stirred up, he had gone out the previous weekend and “the blues were running and he was caught them as fast as he could reel them in.”   Or the “Pompano’s were running, best eating fish he ever caught.”  I was hooked.  I didn’t have any fishing gear, and what is called “tackle”, so I went to Kmart and bought a nine foot rod and reel and all sorts of tackle, fishing lines, hooks of various sizes, sinkers, swivels, lures and so on, and of course a tackle box to put it all in.  I was fully equipped.  Craig and Paul had done the same with Craig getting the longer twelve foot pole. With us all equipped, Eric gave us a place and day and when time was right, and we all met down at the beach.  As I learned from Eric, tides, sun, moon and astrological sign, all determine when the best time is to fish which always seemed to be at sunrise.  Now sunrise isn’t my most favorite time for activities, but I made and exception and we all met at sunrise, well a half hour after sunrise anyway.  Fortunately for me it was just a short distance down A1A from where I lived.  Eric was a good teacher, helping us set up our rods, reels, line, swivel, sinkers, hooks and bait.  Eric had brought some shrimp for bait so we put them on the hooks, waded knee deep into the surf and cast our lines as far out into the water as one could then walk back to the beach and sit down and wait.  And wait, and wait.  For those that have not fished before, fishing requires a lot of waiting.  Fishing as a kid we never had to wait all that long, three, four minutes before the bobber would go under the water and you would pull in a fish.   Well between the three of us we caught a couple of catfish and one small Blue.  But that was okay with me, I knew how fishing was, sometimes you catch some, sometimes you don’t, it isn’t as much about the fish, as it is spending time with your buddies.

After staying with me for a few days, the following weekend I drove David back to Gainesville and he left his motorcycle with me for the summer.  In my journal I wrote…

June 18, 1978

Its early, 5:00 in the morning. Some party it was last night, it was the first time since I’ve been down here that I have met a group of people my age. I had a bit too much beer to drink and came home early to go to bed. So early I awoke with thoughts of yesterday on my mind, it was a very good day. Sleeping late, then a motorcycle ride down along the river, the boats at the marina were like a picture with the big yachts, a couple of old men in a rowboat rowing around as small sail boats playing chase around the larger boats. It was a classic scene.

In the fall when David returned from his summer job and came to see me in Melbourne and then rode his bike back to Gainesville but on the way he took a turn to fast and crashed his motorcycle.   Fortunately, he wasn’t killed but he did break his leg. .  Here he is recuperating in the back yard at Mom and Dad’s.  I think he enjoyed sitting around for a few weeks and having Mom wait on him.

Daivd recuperating

Fishing at Sebastain InletOther times we would go down to Sebastian Inlet where the Indian River crosses the barrier island and opens into the Atlantic Ocean.  Sebastian Inlet, about thirty minutes south on A1A from where I lived in Indialantic, is only about a hundred feet across and had a high bridge for A1A to cross over it.  On the north side of the inlet there is a rock jetty extending a hundred yards out into the ocean with a walkway on top of it.  It was a popular place for fishing with there often being several dozen people fishing.  Eric talked about all the fish he had caught there, of six or eight times I went, I think I only caught one small catfish. 

Then there was the time Eric heard that the fish were biting at Port Canaveral which is a forty minute drive north on A1A from my house in Indialantic.  Of course the tides, sun, moon and astrological signs said the fishing would be best at sunrise.  Eric said to get there before sunrise, so I get up a good hour and half early, ate a quick breakfast, got in my Chevy van and headed north on A1A.  At 6 in the morning, it was still dark out with few other cars on the road as I drive north though Coco Beach.  A couple of blocks later I pass Ron Jon’s Surf shop and I see a person in my headlights walking on side of the road who, as I get closer, turns and sticks out a thumb for a ride.  I don’t normally pick up hitchhikers but I slowdown and see it is a young woman. The gallant knight and Boy Scout in me said I had to stop and help her.  It was dark out, fairly cold, no other cars on the road, I pull over in front of her and she quickly walks up to my Chevy van. She looks into passenger side window just as I roll it down and asks for a ride.  I tell her I’m only going to Port Canaveral which was only a couple miles down the road, but she said that would be fine and she gets in.  From what I could tell in the dim light she was young and attractive, and somewhat underdressed for how cold it was that time in the morning.   She seems nervous as she looks at me and checks out my Chevy van and then asks, “Do you mind if I go in the back and change?”  Well that surprised me, I said sure, and goes to bed in the back of my van with a oversized purse where she proceeds to undress and change clothes.  Now I was driving, and had to keep my eyes on the road but I did have a real view mirror, but it was dark outside and even darker in the van so she was just a dark figure in the back.  After changing she comes back to the passenger seat in somewhat warmer clothes and makes a suggestion about if I gave her some money, we could use the bed in back.    Ok, so I picked up a prostitute, I never had done that before.   Before I could give her an answer, I turn off the main road that led to the fishing dock. On the corner was a small dinner. I pull into the parking lot and I said, “You don’t have to do anything.”, and gave her twenty dollars.  She thanked me, got out and walked towards the dinner as I continued to the fishing dock to meet the guys.   I didn’t catch any fish that morning. 

Bob Dylan
A Simple Twist of Fate  

Hunts her down by the waterfront docks
Where the sailors all come in
Maybe she'll pick him out again
How long must he wait?
One more time for a simple twist of fate

Sometimes the tides, sun, moon and astrological signs did line up at times other than sunrise and we would go fishing in the afternoon which, on such occasions, required brining beer. One such occasion was the end of August when my brother David came down from Gainesville  and we met the guys  on the beach and fished the afternoon away.  It was quite enjoyable, by the third six pack even more so.  I didn’t catch any fish that day either.

At times my thinking turned philosophical, I wrote in my Journal…

June 25, 1978

There is no “True” purpose in life. The only purpose in life is that to live and reproduce. Any other purpose, no matter how noble, just, moral, or godly, is only a purpose thought of by Man. All purposes, other than to live and reproduce, is only a purpose that was created by man and only exists in man’s mind. Without purpose there is no destiny. Man’s mind has become so complex and programmed in such a way that a man can hardly exist without a purpose for his life.  Because of this, Man as an individual creates purposes for life so that he can justify his existence.

Updated: 04-04-2023