Stolen Boats, Red Wasps and Potted Meat

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… no … that’s already taken … but it sure does work for this one.

Let’s see …What about, It was a really good weekend, until it turned really ugly?

My brother and I, along with three friends were finally going on that
much-anticipated, planned-on-it-all-week-long camping trip to Lake
Delano in the Franklin D. Roosevelt State Park.

We had our sleeping bags (or old itchy Army blankets), food and
drinks and our fishing tackle. As usual, we brought an iron skillet, a
pound of lard, and a bag of cornmeal to fry up all those fish we were
going to catch. From previous experience of having nothing to eat but
creekwater cornbread, we also had our usual emergency cuisine... Vienna
sausages, sardines, Spam, Pork n’Beans, the ever-present Spanish Rice
and that danged Potted Meat.

We fished all afternoon. Not a nibble. After all the worms had made the
ultimate sacrifice-by-drowning, we tried every bait we could
hunter-gather; grasshoppers, crickets and grubs all joined the worms in
bait heaven.

Not a nibble, and now it was getting dark, and boring, and we were
getting hungry. On the way back to our campsite (which was the big
shelter with the fireplace that now rents for a gazillion dollars), one
of us said, “If we had a boat we could get out to the deep water where
the fish are.”

At that moment the devil seed was planted. Since we didn’t have a boat,
it seemed moot to even respond, so no one said anything … but that
thought burrowed in and began its evil plan.

With still a possibility of catching fish the next day, we decided to
save the cornmeal for a real emergency. Out comes the various canned
delicacies. The Spanish rice (with chopped up Vienna sausages) on
Saltines, cooked in an iron skillet over an open fire was nearly enough
to satisfy us all. But then I saw that can of potted meat. There were
some crackers left so I stuck that little tab of metal into the key
(remember those?) and began twisting. About three-quarters around the
can, it broke off. Rather than try to re-attach the key, I figured
since it was almost all the way around, I could just grab the lid and
pull it off the rest of the way.

Big mistake.

The greasy juice had spilled onto my hands, and... I’m not sure what
happened exactly, but somehow my fingers slipped and the top of the can
cut the ends off of three fingers.

There must be something in potted meat juice akin to hornet venom. I
had never experienced pain like that, and on top of that I was bleeding
profusely. All the Bandaids we had brought finally got that under
control; but I spent the rest of the night with my arm upraised and my
fingers throbbing with every heartbeat.

The next morning, we walked around the lake to the little office and
behold! There were the boats, but they were all chained up …except for
one, and it had a paddle in it! The office was closed for the weekend,
and no one else was on the lake… and that Devil Seed germinated.

We climbed in and paddled out to deeper water and fished. And fished
some more. Not a nibble. Finally we just paddled around the lake,
goofing off and looking and sounding like a boatload of teen-aged
tourists.

At the far end of the lake, across from the dam, about twenty feet
off-shore, was a small island made up from maybe two small trees and
various bushes. The boat drifted into the overhanging brush, so my
brother took the paddle to push us away. Unbeknownst to us, Red Wasps
had built one of the biggest nests I have ever seen beneath the very
bush we were under, and they weren’t receiving company. They boiled off
that nest in a cloud like Kamikazes. I think I was the first stung, but
the others were soon to gain that experience—all except my brother. The
rest of us abandoned ship and swam to shore.

My brother remained in the boat, paddle upraised and swatting. You
could hear those wasps hitting the paddle, yet he remained unstung.

I later heard that wasps will attack the highest point of its victim,
and they were after that upraised paddle, or it may have been just
blind luck.

I don’t remember if we stayed another night to enjoy some of that good ol’ Delano-water cornbread.

Oh Brew, that is yet another wonderful tale of adventure. You must have had a great youth and lots of extra lives to go with it. Red wasps? never heard of them before now--guess I get to google again!

Brew,
I think you would have enjoyed being a friend of Huckelberry Finn and Tom Sawyer.

That'll teach you to eat potted meat!

Brew,

I read your work and think of my brothers as they were growing up. Life had a much simpler quality then than it does today. Your writing really captures it.

Ann

Zada, what we call Red Wasps are the largest of the wasps and have the
most painful stings - only surpassed by the hornet. I googled them and
what they show doesn't seem to be the same one.

Abe, you're right about Tom and Huck. I would have gladly floated down the Mississippi with them!

Dick, every time I see a can of potted meat now, my fingers throb.

Ann, thanks! I began writing down these little vignettes of my
childhood for my daughter (who was born when I turned 50) so she would
know something of what life was like in a gentler time... and it gives
me the opportunity to practice my writing, which needs all the help it
can get.

Is this one, Brew?



http://bugguide.net/node/view/1712

Sure looks like the one, Shelagh. But the site I found said that they
weren't agressive. The ones we dreaded would attack in swarms.

We got `em back though. Their grubs make the best bream bait you could
get. The danger lay with getting them off the nest, which was carried
whole to the creek bank.

That photo gives me the shivers!

One of my favorite summer jobs was when I worked as a deep woods
surveyor's assistant. I have been stung by everything that has a
stinger, and can recite the pain level by type.

From least to worst:

Biting gnats
Deer flies, horseflies
Honeybees
Yellow Jackets
Guinea Wasps
Common wasps
Wild honey bees (Black, and nest underground)
Bumblebees (with the yellow head)
Red Wasps
Hornets

"Like many Paper Wasp species, Red Wasps are typically docile, but will become aggressive when provoked or when the nest is disturbed. Anecdotal evidence suggests that Red Wasp stings feel more painful than stings from other Paper Wasp species."

http://www.whyistheanswer.com/red_wasp/

That's the one then. The pain part gave it away. I wonder if its
because they're so large they simply deliver more venom, or is the
venom different?

The location of the sting has a lot to do with it too. Once I was stung
behind my earlobe, very close to those glands beneath the jawline. That
one took me out of service for a couple of days.

Didn't take the sting out of the tale then?

Uhhhh... what? Tale/tail? I miss out on so much...