A Day On The Water With A Veteran And A Friend
Bruce Butler, the “Stumbling Gypsy”
This tale is my poor attempt to tell a piece of one friend’s story.
As you all know, for many of us that served in our country’s uniform, wars don’t end when we get back to the Land of the Big PX. Memories and demons follow us home, and all of us deal with them in our own way. I’ve lost several friends to PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) over the years, some through their own intervention, and some more slowly through drug and alcohol abuse.
My friend, Doc, who I hadn’t seen in about four years, and knew had been dealing with PTSD, is a Marine Corps veteran who served in Vietnam during both Tet Offensives of 1968 and ’69. I was there for one Tet, and that was more than enough for me. We had never really swapped “war stories,” but I knew he hadn’t served with a unit “back in the rear with the gear,” as we used to say.
I had heard that he’d sort of been living life in a holding pattern, and recently he called me out of the blue. He wanted to try kayak fishing and asked if I had the time to take him out. So we set up the date and time, and his “You want to meet at what time?” question was priceless. I don’t think he’d seen that time of the morning in years, except maybe to answer nature’s call.
We put our boats in at Indian Bay on Florida’s Gulf Coast north of Tampa near the town of Aripeka. As we paddled out and watched the sunrise, I knew Doc was hooked. He was in awe of the beauty I see on every trip and remarked, “God put this here for all of us! How could I have missed it for all these years?”
We paddled past a manatee and diamondback terrapins, saw dolphins frolicking the bay and watched as an osprey dove for mullet and did that mid-air shake to dry off after its dive. It seemed like every time I’d start paddling to try a new spot, Doc was sitting there with a blissful smile on his face and he’d say, “OK, we can move if you want, but I’m fine right here.”
Once in a while you get to see something special through someone else’s eyes, and that happened for me all day long with Doc. Sure, we caught fish, but that seemed secondary.
As the day progressed, he said something that I will never forget as a guide, as a person and as a veteran.
“This is the first time I’ve felt alive in three years, and the best day I’ve had in 10,” he said.
Talk about a day to remember! I love you, Doc! Semper Fi .
When we finished the day, he tried to hand me money. I said, “No, this was for you.” His comment was, “Bruce, I’ve got money, but I don’t have enough in the bank to pay you for what you did for me today.”
Later that week we found him his own yak. I guess I can stand one more guy fishing my spots. How I keep taking out charters and ending up with new fishing buddies I don’t know, but I know that I’m richer for it… and I don’t mean money.
Many thanks to all who served! God bless each and every one of you!
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