Introduction:

Hi,

Glad you decided to drop by my blog. I enjoy story telling and making up stories. Therefore, I decided to start this blog to share some of my stories with anyone who may be interested. If you enjoy what you read here, please tell others about it. I promise to never post a story here which you would be ashamed to read to your children (or be ashamed if someone caught you reading it).



Blessings,

C. Bowman

Friday, December 21, 2012

An Under-The-Pier Christmas (re-posted from Christmas 2011)


It was just a few days before Christmas and the critters which inhabit the depths of water beneath the St. Simon’s Island pier were not happy. They were in fact getting pretty depressed. They had almost no Christmas decorations to decorate their underwater domain with. Almost everything they had owned had been destroyed or swept out to sea during the Great Storm which had punished the area just a few months ago.

The Great Storm, as they referred to it, had lashed the area above the surface with terrible winds and did much damage. The Great Storm had punished the underwater creatures as well. It had caused such powerful currents to rush through the area that almost all their homes had been destroyed. Many of their friends had even been carried far out to sea. Every few days another old friend would come struggling exhaustedly back telling tales of barely surviving the depths of the great Atlantic Ocean. Why, only yesterday Joey Crab had returned so tired and worn out that he could barely enjoy the excited greetings of his old friends around the pier.

Today, the creatures had suddenly realized that it was almost Christmas day. And as they passed each other coming and going they talked about the lack of decorations for the Christmas celebration. You see each year on Christmas eve and on Christmas day peace is declared among all the inhabitants of the waters surrounding the St Simon’s Island pier. All of them come together on Christmas morning to hear the old story of the birth of the baby Jesus. They congratulate each other on surviving the difficulties of another year. This year’s celebration of fellowship would be special as they would be remembering the Great Storm and honoring the memories of those whom it had carried away. No one knew if those old friends and neighbors had perished or would one day reappear as Joey Crab had done.  

The biggest concern for everyone was where to find Christmas decorations? As the talk went around among the creatures, a fisherman up on the pier accidently dropped his artificial bait and it fell down into the depths of the water. While this wasn’t all that unusual, today it was different. The “bait” was a new, shiny type called a spoon. It was small and not of the kind usually used by fishermen around the pier. As it sank to the bottom it twisted and turned this way and that and the sunlight reflected off it causing it to look almost like a falling star of sorts. As it reflected rays of sunlight off in every direction all the creatures seemed to stop and stare at it… and an idea was born. As soon as it landed, the crab family was there. They hoisted it up on their backs and headed up under the pier as the creatures rushed together excitedly talking. Grandfather crab called out above the din of excited talk, “Okay now, everyone calm down! Calm down, please! There, that’s better,” he said.

“I think we all got the same idea at about the same time, heh?” he asked.  Everyone excitedly agreed. “Now the problem is, how do we get more of these shiny things to use for our decorations?” he asked. Quickly, the crowd began excitedly discussing this and then suddenly an excited voice rose above the din. “Why, we can go up there and get them!” shouted an excited fiddler crab. “And how to you propose we do that?” asked grandfather crab. “Anyone of us sets foot or claw on that pier and we will become shark bait,” he continued. Everyone nodded, as it is well known that the pier is one of the best known sites around for shark fishermen.

Sam Hermit, one of the cousins of Grandfather Crab, called out, “We will need a diversion!” he said. “We will need someone to cause such a ruckus that we can raid the tackle boxes up there on the pier and get the things we need,” He explained. “And I have just the idea,” he said. “They are all congregating up there now for the evening’s shark fishing contest. If we were to hang up one of their lines out there in the channel on something which would move around a lot and mimic a huge shark, then we would be able to sneak up there and get the stuff we want. All the fishermen would rush down to the spot where the one is fighting with what he will think is a monster shark,” he explained.  

An idea popped into Grandfather’s head. “I’ve got it,” he said. “I need about eight volunteers for a dangerous task,” he said. Quickly eight large and brave sea creatures stepped forward. They were an odd collection of creatures to be sure. Some were barnacle covered old crabs while others were slimy looking octopuses. No one doubted their bravery, as all of them were well known members of the Under-The-Pier club, a local club of adventure seeking fellows. “Now,” said Grandfather,” I want you guys to head out there into the channel and very carefully and slowly gather up six or eight of those fishing lines and knot them together. But be careful not to tug on them so that the fishermen think they have a bite or else they’ll jerk on the line and you may get hooked,” he explained. “When I give the signal, then I’ll want you guys to jerk downwards as hard as you can on the tangled lines then let them go. With some luck the fishermen will think they have all caught a giant shark and they will pull against each other. That should keep them occupied for a while,” he grinned.

“No problem,” answered Slick, the club leader. He was an interesting fellow to look at as he had a tattoo of a flying bird on each arm at exactly the same location. When he wanted to entertain people, he would extend his arms and twirl around quickly which made the bird appear to fly in a circle. The club members talked briefly among themselves and then headed off to do their task. Then Grandfather called for a swarm of crab family volunteers. “We need about thirty of you guys to get ready over by that piling,” he said. “When I give those guys the signal and they begin the show, you will scurry up there and all of you lift one of those big tackle boxes and run over the side with it,” he said. Immediately many of the larger and older Crab family members bunched up over by the indicated piling and watched grandfather for the signal to head topside.

Everyone waited anxiously. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Slick sent the message that their mission of gathering and tangling the lines had been achieved. Grandfather lifted a conch shell to his lips and raised one of his arms. With a drop of his arm and a blast from the shell, the club members yanked down as hard as they could on the tangled mess of fishing lines. Even as deep down as the creatures were, they could hear the excited yells and shouts coming from above as the fishermen struggled against their “giant shark”! Grandfather turned to the bunched crabs eagerly waiting at the foot of the piling and raising all of his front arms upwards he shouted,”Go!”. Immediately the bunched crabs surged upwards and quickly gained the edge of the pier. Those who were in the lead had no chance to stop and look around as they were hurled forward by the mass of crabs coming up from below. Soon, one of the oddest sites to ever be seen on the St. Simon’s Island pier occurred. A mass of swarming crabs picked up a large fishing tackle box and simply flowed across the pier and off the other side, leaving behind several shocked and staring pier visitors.   

On Christmas day, the Under-The-Pier community of sea creatures relaxed and admired their pretty decorations as the gently passing currents twirled and otherwise caused the colorful hanging fishing lures and floating bobbers to dance. The community shared the Christmas story together and congratulated each other on surviving another difficult year. They also wished each other a prosperous year ahead and hoped that next year, those of their community who had not yet returned since the Great Storm, might be there to share Christmas with them.

The day after Christmas, the pier visitors lounging around enjoying the sun of another beautiful coastal day were suddenly astounded as a tide of surging crabs mysteriously rose up on one side of the pier and swept a large fishing tackle box onto the pier. Outlined across the top of the lid in small gray stones were two words… Merry Christmas! 
 

 
                           May you have a REALLY MERRY CHRISTMAS! 
 

 
The pier at St. Simon's Island, Georgia... a great place to hang out!

1 comment:

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