Boudreaux and Broussard loved to fish and spent every day they weren't working fishing. They
fished green trout, perch, sac-au-lait, speckled trout, redfish, flounder, sheepshead, drum, and just
about anything that swims. They liked fresh water fishing, brackish water fishing, and saltwater
fishing. They liked fishing in the fall, in the summer, in the spring, and in the winter. They fished
in bayous, lakes, oilfield canals, and offshore near oil rigs. They fished with fly rods, spin
casting, rod and reels, and cane poles. They fished from the banks, out of pirogues, out of Lafitte
skiffs, out of 250 hp bass boats, off of oil production platforms, off of levees, in the surf, and
from fishing camp docks. They liked still fishing, bottom fishing, trolling, and gigging flounders
in the surf. They like early morning fishing, midday fishing, dusk fishing and night fishing. I
guess you could say that they liked and had tried every kind of fishing there was, and they were
not bashful about letting people know that. One day they were talking about their fishing
prowess to a Yankee, not just any Yankee, but one from Vermont!
"Ah-yup," he drawled, "betchya never did any ice-fishing! Best ice fishing in the world in
Vermont, don't you know." Vermonters are known for maple syrup, not starting sentences with a
subject, and ice-fishing. Boudreaux and Broussard were hooked - they had to go ice -fishing.
They flew up to Vermont and stayed in a small town. They went to the nearby country store and
asked for supplies and instructions to go ice fishing. The proprietor sold them poles, bait, and an
ice auger for drilling a large hole in the ice.
"Just drill a hole in the ice, and there will be fish under the ice," he told them.
"Can you tell us where to go ice fishing?" Boudreaux asked him.
"Ice fishing shack down the road apiece. Head out this way. Drive past three covered bridges and
it'll be on the right. Make sure there's ice on the floor and you got the right place."
Boudreaux loaded their new fishing gear in their car and set the alarm to get up at 6 AM which is
dawn in Louisiana, but still very dark in Vermont in the winter. There was ice and snow
everywhere as they drove through this winter wonderland. "Look," Broussard shouted, "dere's a
barn with a road through de middle of it. Let's stop and see dat."
"Mah, it looks jest like T-Coon's barn in Montegut, Sha. But how come dey don't store no hay in
the rafters?"
"Mais, I don't know, me, let's go on. Read dem instructions again."
"Go past t'ree covered bridges."
"Okay, let's look for dem."
Soon they found another covered bridge and this time they saw the stream running under it,
"Look, dere's one." And so it went - till they found two more bridges, which didn't take long
because Vermont has more covered bridges per unit area than any other state.
"Okay, dat's t'ree covered bridges, and that must be the ice fishing house." It was still dark
outside as they walked up to the building, opened the door, and made sure there was ice all over
the floor. Broussard held the ice auger as Boudreaux began drilling.
From high overhead, with booming resonance they heard a low voice that said, "THERE ARE
NO FISH UNDER THE ICE."
Boudreaux jumped and stopped his drilling. "Bon Dieu, what was that? The two Cajuns looked
at each other silently and waited a few minutes and when they heard nothing more they began
drilling again. Once more they heard the booming voice, loud and echoing around them.
"STOP. PLEASE LEAVE. THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE."
Quaking with fright Boudreaux fell to the ice, cowering, and said,
"Bon Dieu, Broussard. You t'ink that's God talking to us?"
Broussard yelled, "God! Is that you?? Are you talking to us!?"
The voice came back and said,
"THIS IS THE RINK MANAGER."