As I was growing up, giggin frogs was as common as fishing. In fact, it was through fishing that we identified ponds with the best potential for collecting a few frog legs.
For those of you who are not familiar with the art of frog giggin; Frogs are harvested at night. They sit around the edge of the pond and their eyes glow when a light hits them. A small boat is generally used, although wading is acceptable. The person in the back does the paddling. The person in the front stands with the gig (a long cane pole with a barbed fork at the end). Sometimes a third person may sit in the middle and do the shining. Each person takes a turn at the various positions, so everyone gets to use the gig, the paddle, and the light. When paddling, the boat must be maneuvered precisely to position the person with the gig, in the optimal spot to harvest the frog. Frog giggin is where we learned to paddle a boat.
On a canoe trip down the Flint River with the Boy Scouts, Ed Yawn and I volunteered to bring up the rear. As our Armada of about ten canoes made its way down the river we were able to observe varying degrees of paddling skill. It soon became obvious that some of the guys had never been frog giggin. The canoe in front of us would run into the bank on the left side of the river. After making corrections they would soon run into the bank on the right side. After a couple rounds of this it became obvious that they were turning this three mile trip into a six mile trip. We caught up with them and Ed got in the canoe with one of them and the other one got in the canoe with me. After about thirty minutes we had them effortlessly maneuvering down the center of the river. We put them back together and they finished the journey like professionals.
Frog giggin is a fairly relaxing endeavor, but it is not without some excitement. I remember one time when a fish jumped into the boat. We did not know what it was and as it flopped around we thought it might be a snake. When the light finally shone on it we were all ready to abandon ship. On another outing as the boat was being maneuvered to put me in position to gig the frog, we entered a thicket of small branches. When I looked to my left there were two snakes resting in the branches right next to me. I took the gig and used it to pole the boat out of the branches. Before I could say snake we were in the middle of the pond.
In college down at ABAC, we didn’t do any frog giggin. There was something peculiar about folks not wanting to show us around their ponds. We then discovered that some of the eyes shining back at us were not frogs, they were alligators. In Athens at UGA we did not have a boat. We did locate a pond with harvestable frogs. Wading is an acceptable way to gig frogs, but it was never my favorite. There are too many snakes and hidden obstacles to navigate; therefore it is not a relaxing endeavor.
Never-the-less we decided to wade this pond. The pond was not very well kept and there were downed trees encroaching on the shore line. There were lots of bushes growing in and near the water. We moved off in opposite directions around the pond. For the most part we could work in waist deep water and maintain close enough contact to the shoreline to effectively use the gig.
We had harvested a few pretty good frogs when I saw him. The king of all frogs was sitting on the end of a log toward the middle of the pond. As I moved to get closer, I ran into a log. The log was blocking my path and was also resting on top of the log where the frog was sitting. When I tried to get over it the log would submerge, putting the frog under water. The shoreline was too overgrown to get out and go around. Finally I carefully climbed over the log, which completely submerged the frog. When the log popped back up the frog was still sitting there. As I move in for the harvest the water became deeper. Finally with the water up to my neck and the frog still out of reach, I abandoned the effort.
The King of all frogs sat on his log croaking as we left, knowing all the while he had outsmarted me.
