The bridge was struck by what Kentucky state transportation officials are terming a “large supply ship” – actually the 312-foot Delta Mariner.

I’ve crossed the bridge numerous times and been underneath it often (it’s a popular fishing spot). The photo was taken from the Fenton Access, a popular launch/take out point. I’m not an engineer but it doesn’t take a trained eye to determine that the bridge is something of an antique. It opened in 1932.

This will certainly be a large inconvenience to locals and visitors – including many fishermen, campers and other LBL visitors.

The miracle tonight is, according to early news reports, that there were apparently no injuries. No automobiles in the water. No one missing from or injured on the boat. All else can be repaired.

For reasons that don’t need to be addressed here I own several fishing vests. The two I most often use are nearly identical in design except that one is constructed from a stiff, heavy fabric; the other from thin, lightweight stuff. However, my decision to move from one to the other has nothing to do with the weather or season. I have no reason. That would somehow defeat the exercise. I wouldn’t refer to this as a ritual and obsession seems too strong a word. Habit, perhaps. My daughter Sarah, who fishes because it’s apparently wired into her genetic code, finds this behavior perfectly normal; even natural. My daughter Rebecca, who fishes only to appease Dad finds it mildly amusing. My non-fishing wife – an obsessive-compulsive knitter and reader – just smiles knowingly and says nothing.

I love Bible stories and like fellow believers worldwide am particularly fond of the Christmas story, the heart and center of which is the birth of the Christ child and the linchpin of the Christian faith. But when I re-read the story or hear it recounted I am always intrigued by Joseph, a man who gets scant mention in the Bible and a guy whose faith – in my view – was tested beyond all others. Try to imagine what he was asked to believe:

He plies his carpentry trade in a small town on the backside of nowhere, where he is engaged to be married. His bride-to-be, a teenager named Mary, receives a visit from an angel and is told she will become pregnant, although she is a virgin. She questions the angel but is told, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy – the Son of God.”

Her husband-to-be learns of this and, naturally, is puzzled and probably somewhat angry and confused. This will almost certainly provide endless fodder for the small town gossip mill. We know from Matthew’s gospel account that Joseph apparently had serious doubts about Mary’s story – he had, after all, decided not to marry her. But we also learn that Joe is a “just man,” and does not wish to put his young bride-to-be to shame and decides to quietly cancel the marriage. But before he can follow through with his decision an angel speaks to Joseph in a dream and explains that the child Mary is carrying is not like other babies, says the child is conceived from the Holy Spirit, says Mary’s story is true and Joseph should not be afraid to marry her.

He does. They eventually make their way to Bethlehem and the birth – the event on which history turns – and the manager and the swaddling cloths and the shepherds and the multitude of the heavenly host and the wise men and the gifts.

But first there was Joseph, a simple and just man, who faced his own challenges and doubts, then was asked to believe the unbelievable and made able to do so through the Faith of Christmas.

Met and shared a boat with Capt. Jason Stock – an excellent guide; knowledgable, energetic and skilled. If you like to sight fish in shallow water via kayak or wading Capt. Stock is a specialist. He can use any tackle you prefer – spin or fly – and if you want to cast from the bow of his skiff he can do that, too. Call him at (727) 459-5899 or go to www.jmsnookykayakcharters.com. You won’t be sorry.

Enjoyed a stop (and the fishing) at Ft. De Soto Park, 1,136 acres of sand, water, mangroves, beach and history that sits at the point of Tampa Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. A beautiful spot. Clean facilities, nice people and a splendid campground. The fishing, too, is pretty darn good. The highway toll park entry fee is 35 cents. It must be the best deal in town. Find out everything you need to know at www.pinellascounty.org/parks.

If you’re seeking local fishing information call the folks at The Bait Bucket where the slogan is “Our Shrimp Guaranteed to Catch Fish or Die Trying.” (727) 864-2108.

We stayed at the Ram Sea II condo. Nice place. Nice people. Part of JC Resort Condominiums. Info at 1-800-535-7776.

And thanks to Bill AuCoin (that’s him with the fly rod) for helping put everything together. Bill’s a pro (and a nice man). The type of gentleman you like to work with.

By the way, the guy in the kayak is Bryan Hendricks, an excellent scribe who keeps readers of The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette www.arkansasonline.com up to date on all things outdoors in The Natural State. Doesn’t he look happy?

Capt. Jason M. Stock www.jmsnookykayakcharters.com was in command.

It went something like this:

“Redfish! Redfish! 11 o’clock off the bow! 30 feet! Cast! Cast! Cast!”

Capt. Stock (left), 26, and already with six years of guide experience under his belt, becomes highly excitable at the sight of a reachable fish.

Kayak fishing seems to be Stock’s first love and he can guide up to four kayak anglers at once (we fished from two of his well-rigged Wilderness System 160 boats www.wildernesssystems.com) but he’s recently added a skiff to his angling arsenal.

By the time he was strongly encouraging me to cast! cast! cast! at the redfish he’d spotted I’d swapped places with Hendricks, who had started the morning with Stock aboard his skiff but moved to a kayak and joined AuCoin and Putbrese paddling around another slice of the park where they encountered some friendly speckled trout.

Stock and I were headed to Jack Ass Key when we found ourselves suddenly surrounded by redfish, so we stayed put.

Caught a couple, missed a couple, landed and released a small shark and generally had a grand time. 

Unfortunately the weather changed a few hours later. The rain was brief but a 20 plus MPH northwest wind has dimmed fishing prospects for tomorrow.

No complaints. One calm 70-degree December day is about all one can ask for.

The weatherman says the agreeable conditions should continue for a few days, which will leave little excuse if we come up with an empty sack tomorrow while fishing for reds, snook and sea trout in and around Ft. De Soto Park.

The 1,136-acre park (five small islands, actually) is advertised and promoted locally as a shallow water paradise for fishermen who prefer to work from a canoe/kayak, small shallow draft boat, or wade.

Bill AuCoin and I plan to use a couple of kayaks and prowl the shallows and the mangrove  cover for cruising fish. Bryan Hendricks and Capt. Jason Stock (that’s him in the photo with a winter snook) will be aboard Capt. Stock’s skiff.

The fish could be at risk. Capt. Stock, AuCoin and Hendricks are good fishermen.

Will be fishing with Capt. Jason Stock and Capt. Dave Dant. Planning on some shallow water fishing with Capt. Stock via kayak and skiff Wednesday and Thursday. Joining Capt. Dant Wednesday night to fish the canal docks under the lights. Also looking forward to fishing my friends Bryan Hendricks and Bill AuCoin.

Photos Wednesday, hopefully

I asked him why while already knowing the reason. Now in his 60s with some of the creeping health ailments and slowdowns that accompany one’s sixth decade he simply decided to stay at home.

The hunting population is graying, a fact that is lost on no one but is particularly concerning to state wildlife agencies, which seem to have one overriding sermon: Take a kid hunting (or fishing). Wonderful advice, to be sure, and one to be followed when possible.

Deer hunters and deer hunting often garner more than their share of bad press; hunting being frowned upon in some political and social circles. Here’s something that’s not often reported but should be: Hunters feed people.

In 2010, according to the National Shooting Sports Foundation, deer hunters donated 2.8 million pounds of venison to shelters, food banks and church kitchens across the country. That translated into 11 million meals for folks who needed them.

Who says there’s no good hunting news.

Sarah is 20 years old, a college junior, and seriously addicted to her iPhone, iPod and other electronic goodies.

“What’s this?”

“An antique.”

“What is it really?

“It’s a computer.”

“This is a computer?”

“Well . . . ” I measured my words carefully then decided to swing for the fences. “Actually, it’s an iPhone want-to-be.”

She gave me a withering look suggesting that senility had, at last, taken hold.

I quickly retreated. “It really is a computer. It’s a Macintosh.  It was the top of the line at the time (this model was a Mac Plus). Your mom and I paid a fortune for it. When I started working at home we decided that I needed a computer. We thought these were the best.”

She pointed to the slot. “What this?”

I tried to explain that the machines ran with disks. Program disks and file disks, although I had a hard drive (another outrageous expense, though be it an after market item and not an Apple) along with an external disk drive. “See that gray box? That’s the hard drive. The keyboard and mouse and external drive and the cables should be in the box somewhere.”

She found everything and scattered the stuff on the attic floor.

“Does it still work?”

“I’m sure it does. Did you find the disks?”

“There’s a box with some things in it that look like thick plastic playing cards. That them?

I nodded. ”Want to power it up?

“No,” she said, her interest waning. “I don’t think so.”

I looked at the pile of junk she’d assembled on the floor. This was Steve Jobs’ brainchild, an early step toward the tools that would promote a 24/7 workday and the live-in-the-moment mentality that now affects much of the world. Every generation has its geniuses. Jobs was one of ours. But his creation was also fueled the stuff of dreams, reflecting a time when my wife and I had a freshly minted marriage license, unlimited hopes and unbridled dreams and little else – all we needed or wanted.

We piled the stuff back in the box.

“Why’d you keep this?

I gave the only answer I could think of.

“I don’t know.”

The largemouth were scattered and fishing was only fair. Patton (left, with one of the few catches of the day) expects that to soon change. He says the bass are on the move from deep-water ledge structure into the lake’s numerous shallow bays, where baitfish are plentiful.

“After a few days for things to stabilize,” Patton said, ” fishing should be terrific.”