Cajun Country
I fly into Lafayette, Louisiana in the early 90s to conduct a due diligence inspection of an offshore oil production facility in shallow Gulf waters that the company is planning to buy. Lafayette is located in southeastern Louisiana, in the heart of oil and gas country.
I meet Albert Doty for the first time at the airport. Albert, a local, middle-aged good ole Cajun man, is the company’s new Louisiana Production Superintendent. He has spent half his life in the oil and gas fields of Louisiana.
The first night, Albert takes me to a local Creole restaurant. The trip there is full of twists and turns on narrow rural roads. I don’t remember the name of the restaurant and if I ever wanted to go back, I would never be able to find the place on my own. We start with shrimp rémoulade for the appetizer, then gumbo soup, followed by jambalaya with dirty rice as the main dish. Banana foster for dessert.
The next day, Albert and I drive 35 miles to the Gulf past cypress-tupelo swamp lands, named after the two dominant trees---Bald Cypress and Water Tupelo. Alligators, cottonmouth snakes, crawfish, and frogs hang out in these waterlogged areas. Marsh hawks fly overhead.
We meet the operator, a local young Cajun man, and go to the site in a small motorboat. I love being on the water in any boat, wind blowing against my face. I’m enjoying the boat ride across the Gulf, only half listening to their conversation over the roar of the motor. They speak to each other in a language that I can’t understand. I didn’t know it at first, but they are speaking Cajun.
After a short boat ride, we arrive at the operation. The site was created by placing rock and fill in shallow Gulf waters. The operator gets around the island on a small ATV, so I jump on the back and off we go to look at oil wells, flow lines and tank batteries. It had rained recently, and the ground is wet. As we roll along, mud from the ground flies onto my back, leaving a mud streak on my jacket.
That night, Albert takes me to an outdoor crawfish boil. The locally caught crawfish is put in a basket and lowered into a pot of boiling water for about 15 minutes. Andouille sausage, onions, potatoes, and corn accompany. Eating crawfish is a messy business, requiring bibs and lots of napkins. The shell is pulled apart, and the meat is picked out and eaten. Lots of beer flowing, too.
On the last day, Albert picks me up at the hotel and takes me to the airport, where he hands me a container packed on dry ice, ready for the plane trip. It‘s a home cooked Gumbo dish with cornbread and hush puppies made by his wife.
Albert is salt of the earth, and we spend many fun adventures together exploring his beloved Louisiana.
Author: Roger Funston
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