Numbers on a page become the most heart-felt Christmas gift ever for this angler
“Merry Christmas,” said Captain Anderson as he handed me number-filled papers.
“Are you serious?” I replied. “This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
While his Merry Christmas was a bit out of season, the spirit was there. It was March 2020 and the COVID-19 world was just beginning. I honestly couldn’t thank him enough, as what was in those papers held something far beyond monetary value.
I first met Captain Anderson a year prior. He lived down the street and noticed all the fishing tackle stacked up in my garage. We made an immediate connection as he said he was a retired captain and looking to sell his old tackle. I asked what he fished for and he told me stories of the commercial hook-and-line grouper fishing he used to do as well as his world travels for billfish tournaments.
His new passion became fly fishing in both saltwater and fresh during retirement. Trips to Georgia to fish streams or the east coast of Florida for redfish and trout were his new fishing trips. When he told me his name I recognized it from something else. Captain Anderson had previously made news for pulling a bald eagle from the clutches of an alligator in 2017, something he humbly acknowledged.
As time went on I would bring him back extra fish from my trips in the Gulf of Mexico. He was quite the chef, too, describing his grouper and snapper recipes. He had a sharp memory, being able to recall his trips, and I loved to hear the stories.
One day he pulled out what he described as “The Holy Grail.” It was his book of numbers. To an offshore angler that means the fishing spots they frequent. Structures like ledges, rock piles, holes and more. Before modern electronics could store GPS or Loran coordinates, anglers would literally have a book filled with various fishing spots written in by their locations. Dates were mostly from 2005 when he converted them to GPS from Loran with a few into 2011.
In Captain Anderson’s book were spots many anglers would commonly name their favorite holes — 90-Foot Ledge, Big Break, Black Grouper, etc. But beside certain spots he had numbers.
“That’s the amount of 40-pound gags we’ve caught there,” he said. “So we’ve caught 43 on ’40 lb gag’ and 45 on ‘Buttcruncher’.”
It was only numbers on paper, but to him each spot was far more than that. It was a lifetime of work and effort finding and catching fish, something he made his career doing as one of the best.
“That’s awesome,” I said, satisfied with the stories. “I love this stuff. Any stories you’ve got I’m willing to hear.” He was always willing to hear how my recent trips went as well and offered advice when something seemed off for a day.
As the beginning of 2020 came, I found out he was moving. Our newly acquired friendship would have to continue at a distance as I got his number and his new address. I told him I’d love to send him fish when I had extra.
When his moving truck showed up and he was packed and ready to go, he stopped by. The doorbell rang and he hit me with the Merry Christmas. He handed me his book, a copy of the papers with his lifetime of numbers. As we said our goodbyes, I teared up, and still do when thinking about it, as I know that book meant the world to him.
There were hundreds of spots all along the west coast of Florida. As I was able to get out and explore, some were great and produced well. I felt fortunate to fall into such luck, and made sure to send him extra fish.
While it certainly wasn’t Christmas time when I saw the captain, it still remains one of the best Christmas gifts I could have ever received.
This story was originally published December 17, 2021 at 4:42 PM.