Doughtie: A string of bad luck can be hard to shake

Among enthusiasts of the outdoor pursuits, I guarantee fisherman are by far the most superstitious lot of them all.

So what brought this subject to mind? I'll have to give credit where credit is due and that honor goes to my good friend Will "Catfish" Thompson.

To give you some background on our fishing relationship, Catfish and I have logged hundreds of hours fishing (and catching) inshore, offshore, even in the Gulf Stream.

It was just a day or so ago that Catfish and I decided to go try for some sheepshead, but from the moment he arrived at my house, everything went to hell in a handbasket. As we were launching my always-reliable boat, the Marsh Monkey, Catfish was at the helm and he hadn't even made it off the trailer before engine alarms started going off.

"That's weird," I thought, "the Monkey never lets me down." With my very limited mechanical skills, I suggested we bag the trip, so back to my house we went.

Hell-bent and determined to diagnosis the problem, I hooked up a water hose to my engine, fired it up and presto, it ran like a top. Feeling confident that we would make it to our fishing spot, and more importantly back to the dock, we once again launched the Monkey and headed out.

Being a huge believer in the power of optimism when it comes to catching fish, we reached our destination and my first bait, a fiddler crab, dropped to the bottom. It took all of 15 seconds before my rod doubled over and a nice sheepshead hit the deck.

Catfish was sitting all of 2 feet from me, and as I got bite after bite and fish after fish, he couldn't buy a bite, much less a fish. I tried to voice encouragement to Catfish that with patience his moment would come.

But as I continued to catch fish, it just got worse for my poor friend. On the rare occasion that he did get a bite and actually hooked it, he was never able to get it more than halfway to the surface before it came unbuttoned.

For a while, he took his bad luck with a grain of salt, but after a couple of hours, his normal mild-mannered acceptance of losing a fish took a sharp turn for the worse. I won't repeat the string of obscenities that spewed from his mouth, but he would slap his rod on the water, causing major backlashes that would take him a good 30 or so minutes to undo, so he could get back into the game.

It was all I could do to keep from laughing, but had he looked closely, he might have seen the tears rolling down my cheeks.

At the point when I thought I would bust a gut, I asked him what in the heck was going on with him. He immediately blurted out "I have the root and it has been going on for weeks now."

Questioning him further about this "root" theory, he went on a tear telling me about all the mishaps he had endured as of late. Some had to do with fishing, others with work, but after listening to his non-stop collection of mishaps, the "root" theory seemed the only answer that made sense.

Having been there myself, my belief is things happen in "threes," but for poor Catfish, you could multiply that "three theory" by four or five and it still wouldn't cover his situation.

It was time to put on the old thinking cap that might hopefully rid this curse that was attached to his, uh, rear end.

Lightheartedly, I suggested we sneak over to my neighbor's chicken coup, grab a fat hen and have him bite its head off like you see in one of those Cajun voodoo movies. Much to my surprise, he was all in. It took me a second before I said "I was just joking, Catfish," but he had this strange look in his eyes that made me want to call that neighbor and tell him to put a padlock on his chicken coups.

Stuck in my head for the rest of the day was an image of Catfish dressed in a feathery loin cloth with a painted face and necklace made of bones, holding a live chicken and in a trance-like state dancing around a bonfire.

What could I do (sans live chickens) that might snap his bad mojo streak? For that answer I went to my crystal ball (Google) and here is what I found:

1. Make a mojo bag containing magnetic lodestone, a swallow heart and some Samson Snake root, sew it shut and carry it in the pocket closest to your private parts.

2. If you plan on going shrimping, spit on your net (or have a virgin pee on it) before casting it.

3. By all means, never step onto a boat with your left foot first.

4. Don't mention four-hooved animals (pigs, horses, etc.) while fishing.

Some of my other quirky beliefs include my patented "fish dance" and music -- but not just any music. If I had to pick just one performer who seems to draw fish, it would have to be the godfather of soul himself, James Brown.

Time and time again, James has made it happen when all else failed. In particular, his song "Get Up Offa That Thing" is one fish-catching, reel-screaming, and make-you-want-to-slap-yo-mamma song.

So Catfish, if you're planning on going fishing, leave the bananas at home, put on your fishing cap and bring out the funk with some James Brown and you are guaranteed to bring home the bacon.

If that still doesn't do it, I reckon we'll have to go the chicken route. Good luck, buddy.

This story was originally published December 14, 2015 at 8:59 AM with the headline "Doughtie: A string of bad luck can be hard to shake."