In the boom of the late-1940’s, New Orleans was growing in just about every way imaginable. New people were moving to the city seeking lucrative oil and gas jobs, tourism was booming across the region and the city itself was literally draining the swamp to make room for new residents and businesses.
But at the edge of the city limits, in an area we now know as Algiers, there was a small bait and tackle shop named “Donnie’s Docks.” It was more of a shack with window dressing than one of the large stores seen today. For very little, you could buy night crawlers, jigs, weights, liver, minnows, special “bait balls”, cane poles, trout lines, or nets to take on your journey.
Donnie was a character and always told tall tales about duping people and catching giant catfish. At some point some tourists wandered in and Donnie started telling his tall tales about all these monstrous fish. The tourist said prove it, so Donnie drove them to where he docked his boat and took them out on the water. They spent hours on the water, but the fish just weren’t biting. Feeling defeated and with a boat load of angry tourists making fun of him, he decided to start experimenting.
He’d set out on the water and try different things to set up bait holes. He tried sacks of corn meal, deer feed, and spoiled meats. These did ok. He knew he could start pushing guided fishing trips with this new plan of several different spots full of fish food to ensure tourists had a good trip. Baiting holes wasn’t exactly legal, so he had to set up several to keep ahead of the game wardens.
One weekend while he was out on the water, he noticed the police were pulling a body out. He got close enough to jab with them about what had happened. Seemed like the poor soul had drowned and then been eaten by the local wildlife. Once the cops cut out, Donnie eagerly dropped his lines in the water. He caught his limit in minutes.
Realizing the power of human bait, he started advertising guaranteed successful fishing trips. Being the showman he was, business started booming and the shack acquired a few upgrades.
The local community loved him as he’d throw a monthly fish fry to clear out his freezer of any left over fish. It was at these events that would bring in down-on-their-luck travelers. Drawn in by the free food and revelry, Donnie would offer them a place to sleep if they helped him on the boat the next day.
However, none of his helpers ever made it back to shore. They disappeared under the swampy waters of the bayou, never to be seen again. They had no idea they would be the star attraction on his next guaranteed successful fishing trip.
As the business and Donnie’s reputation for providing the best fishing trips grew, the authorities got suspicious that he was using illegal bait holes. They booked a trip with him, logged the location and went back with divers at night. What they found was a watery mass grave filled with tall sorts of fish.
When the bait shop was searched, they found that the special bait balls were being made from grinding the soft tissues, organs, and skin from his victims and making them into a paste to dry into the bait balls. Donnie was nowhere to be found. Some say he took his boat The Chum Bucket and fled the region.
But, just to be safe, if you find yourself in the waters around New Orleans, be wary of any fisherman offering you a guaranteed catch, or you may just find yourself the one caught.