The Special Ice Chest
I think the first time I really sat down and talked to him at length was at a funeral. I knew of him – you can’t spend much of any amount of time in Flour Bluff and not know who Calvin Self is. He’s a local legend.
Not only is he a successful businessman, but he is also an outdoorsman of the highest caliber. He has lived his life by the seasons, reaping the bounty of both land and sea for decades.
One fall back in the 80’s, Calvin was making good money with his big twin-engine outboard bay-skiff boat shrimping in the Upper Laguna Madre near the Land Cut. It was easy math – the more shrimp he caught, the more money he made.
Daily bag limit laws, and a man’s conscience, were the only real limiting factors on a day’s pay, and Calvin’s conscience was clear catching and selling as much shrimp as he could get away with.
He dealt with overages by keeping all his shrimp-filled ice chests on the front deck close to the sides of his boat. If he saw a game warden approach, he would dump the shrimp back into the water before the warden could get close enough to see what he was doing.
It worked great most of the time, but he’d been caught and ticketed a couple of times too; it was just the price of doing business.
But Calvin didn’t feel that his professional approach to shrimping was being reciprocated by some of the game wardens that patrolled the area.
He didn’t appreciate the way they jumped on board his boat and rifled through his stuff like they owned it, even if he had dumped shrimp before they’d gotten there in the past.
One day, an over-zealous warden broke the hinge on one of Calvin’s brand-new Gott ice chests and didn’t say he was sorry, or anything. That wouldn’t do. Calvin was the type to get mad AND get even, so he came up with a plan.
Calvin used his considerable outdoor knowledge and abilities to procure the perfect little surprise for the next game warden that hopped on his boat.
He put his little present in a “special ice chest” and tied a short piece of rope on the handle so that he wouldn’t mistakenly open it himself. From then on, he made sure to bring the “special ice chest” along every time he went out shrimping.
Game Warden Mike Fain would’ve rather chased poachers by land than by sea, but he did his time out on the water and did it well. Mike wasn’t above being over-zealous at times, but he did so with a quick wit and humor that made it all seem ok.
Mike was out patrolling the Upper Laguna Madre one afternoon when he saw Calvin’s boat headed north in the Intracoastal Waterway.
Mike showered down on the throttle and closed the distance quickly. Calvin had nothing but empty ice chests on board, except for the “special”, so he throttled down and calmly waited for Mike to come aboard.
Mike slid his patrol boat up against the side of Calvin’s boat and went aboard. Calvin didn’t say a thing as Mike quipped one-liners beneath his breath and opened ice chests.
Mike didn’t miss a beat until he opened the one with the little piece of rope tied to the handle and the live rattlesnake inside.
The quiet calm on the bay that day was immediately shattered by an angry rattle, and Mike about fell out of the boat as he lunged back and drew his pistol, pointing it in the general vicinity of the now closed “special ice chest”.
“Don’t you dare shoot a hole in my boat, Mike,” Calvin said wryly. Mike gathered his thoughts, holstered his pistol, and quipped a few more, now profanity laced, one-liners beneath his breath, ending with something to the effect of “that’s just wrong” as he got back on his boat and left.
Yep, Calvin Self told me this story the first time I ever met him; at a funeral. Mike’s funeral. Mike passed away in 2010 at the age of 53.
Mike, too, was an outdoorsman of the highest caliber and a good man. He was an exemplary game warden, and although he and Calvin played for different teams, they shared a mutual respect, the likes of which I wish we’d see more of these days.
This story was first published in August of 2022. Calvin Self passed away on March 2, 2023. He, like Mike, was one of a kind.
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