the fish house
Posted on May 7, 2008 - Filed Under mullet jump alabama
I was wanting some good fried fish. No more shrimp or crabs for a while. I wanted something from the deep sea. Grouper maybe. Too bad they don’t have Kitty Mitchell.
I was about sixteen and had never bought seafood from a fish market. Why should I? I had been shrimping or fishing since I was about twelve. Anyway, here I am, standing in the aromatic vapors of the fish house at the rotten end of the St. Andrews wharf when I thought I had found my life’s ambition - workin’ in the fish house.
I’ve spent an awful lot of time on salt water. A lot! This category will be stories from my past - when I can remember them. It’s because of the sixties you know.
