“Jumper! Get your a$$ back home!”……  That was the line that really caught my ear, and made me nearly cry, I was laughing so hard. But, let me go back to the beginning of the story.  

 

 
Last Sunday, Cathy and I were at the Bay. We didn’t really have anything to eat at the house, and decided to go out for lunch to one of favorite local places in St Michaels – Carpenter Street Saloon. We got there about one, and sat down. C-Street wasn’t particularly busy, and there were only a few of us at the bar. We ordered a couple of bloody’s and some lunch. The food came and it was as good as always. Some people left, some came in, and I guess at this point there were six or eight of us sitting around the U-shaped bar. One of the guys that came in later turned out to be a Volunteer fireman for both St Michaels and Tilghman Island, and had been one for something like 45 years. It turned out that his father has a house about half a mile from where we live on Tilghman, and he started telling stories about some of his time on the Bay.

He was a waterman and had done various jobs up and down the Bay. He started telling us about his time as a tugboat captain and he was taking his tug up to Baltimore. As they were crossing beneath the Bay Bridge, something came spiraling slowly down from the bridge above and plopped into the water just off the port side of the boat. They looked in the water and it was a very young pigeon. Evidently it had left the nest (tried to fly, was pushed, or jumped), but it didn’t really know how to fly yet and landed in the water. They netted the bird out of the Bay and brought him inside. He was alive but stunned. The captain decided to see if they could save the bird, so they dried it off and warmed it, and started feeding it. Oh, and they named it Jumper (figuring it had jumped out of the nest for good, or for ill).

Over time the bird got stronger and bigger, and the captain finally took Jumper outside to release him. Well sure enough Jumper could fly now, but after circling about, he came back and landed at the captain’s feet. He flew off a couple more times, but always came back, so he became something of a pet. The captain started taking him with him when he went down to work on his boat at the docks. As a matter of fact, Jumper would fly around down there, and occasionally pick up a screw or a bolt. He’d fly around with it a bit, and then drop it on the captain as he flew overhead.

Another time the captain was driving home from the end of Bar Neck and looked up and saw Jumper sitting on a telephone line above, with two doves sitting on each side of him. The captain got out of his car and yelled “Jumper! Get your a$$ back home!”. Jumper flew off and when the captain got home a few minutes later, there was Jumper sitting outside the house with a look of “Who Me???” on his face…

Jumper stayed on with him for about one and half or two years. Then one day Jumper was flying back and forth between the captain and his brother having fun, when a hawk swooped in and grabbed him and flew off. The captain ran inside to grab his gun, but by then the hawk, and Jumper, were long gone…. I suppose it’s a bit sad that Jumper met his fate that way, but I like to think he had a couple of pretty good years that never would have happened if they hadn’t netted him out of the Bay….

The captain (and others) told a couple of other stories, and the laughter around the bar was pretty good. It was a great way to spend a couple three hours there at C-Street. We finally paid our tab to Sarah behind the bar and headed back home.  

Since then, every time I think of Jumper and those doves sitting on the wire, I break into a smile…..