Gah!
Cliffs notes: woman is on a jetski and get smacked in the face by a leaping 20-40 pound carp. Knocks her off, leaving her nearly unconscious and she almost drowns.
http://www.pjstar.com/news/luciano/b13elb9l030.html
The Attack of the Killer Carp is no fish story.
During the past few years, the Illinois River has become lousy with Asian carp, which can reach 50 pounds and jump 10 feet above the surface.
This month produced Peoria's first human casualty.
A Peoria homemaker and mother of four was smacked in the face by a soaring carp that broke her bones and left her floundering bloody and unconscious in the river.
"I was fish-faced," says Marcy Poplett, 35, whose good fortune in the mishap allows her an occasional nervous titter. "... Thank God I had a life vest on.''
Even before the carp collision, she'd learned about the proliferating fish.
Asian carp were brought into Arkansas fish farms in the '70s to raise them for sale, mostly in China. The hearty bottom-feeders spawn year-round, often growing 40 inches long.
The American species top out at 40 to 50 pounds, though some varieties in Asia can hit 100.
Several years ago during a flood, Asian carp slipped from the Arkansas farms and wriggled up the Mississippi River and eventually up the Illinois. Conservationists worry about the impact of these big eaters chomping through the underwater food supply. And boaters fear the invasion, because - apparently when spooked by vibrating trolling motors - these carp can soar 10 feet up and 20 feet horizontally.
Until recently around Peoria, the carp had been a nuisance but not a threat. They often dive into pontoon boats, their thin skin exploding and blood splattering. Local anglers in john boats have taken to arming themselves with garbage-can lids to slam the sailing carp back into the water.
Marcy Poplett had her first carp encounter in early September as her family water-skied. Husband Joe saw a carp zoom right past his eyeballs.
"Get me the hell out of here!'' he yelled, abandoning his skis and heading for the safety of their boat.
Fast-forward to Oct. 11, a sunny Saturday marked with unusually warm weather, 75 degrees or so. Poplett had gone to the riverside home of her mother, who lives near the IVY Club, to help pull in a retractable dock for the winter.
But Poplett decided to take advantage of the nice weather and take her mother's Sea-Do for a final spin. About 1 p.m., she slipped on a wet suit and life jacket, fired up the watercraft and zipped downriver to observe the leaves.
She saw no other craft on the water except for one passing boat. She exchanged waves as she neared Detweiller Marina, where she noticed a breathtaking cluster of trees.
She let the motor idle, floating at perhaps 3 mph. Then she heard a splash and saw a flash.
SLAP! - carp right between the eyes.
"All of a sudden, it flew up and smacked me in the face,'' Poplett says. "Then I saw black.''
Knocked out, she fell into the water. She awoke face-down, gurgling on the brown water. She was in the middle-third of the lake but not in the channel, so she could touch her feet to the bottom.
Straining to stay conscious, she saw the Sea-Do floating away in the current. She tried to move toward the craft, which carried a cell phone. But her feet sank into the mud and she could hardly move, in part because her left leg felt pained and numb.
She passed out again, falling backward. When she came to, she couldn't see - blood had pooled in her eyes. She heard an approaching barge blasted five bells, the warning to move out of the way.
With her hands, Poplett tried to wipe the blood from her eyes. Spotting the boat that had passed by earlier, she waved her arms but fell unconscious again.
Luckily, the boaters, the Seal family of Pontiac, already had spied the unoccupied Sea-Do and veered over to look for the rider. The Seals glimpsed the bobbing Poplett, motored over to pull her out and called 911.
The East Peoria Fire Department sent out its rescue boat and transported her to the shore, where an ambulance took her to Methodist Medical Center. Poplett had suffered a concussion, black eye, broken nose, cracked vertebrae and severely bruised left leg, likely from bouncing off the side of the Sea-Do.
She does not know what happened to the carp.
Poplett wonders uncomfortably about what might've happened without the help of the Seal family (who couldn't be reached for comment). "I want to kiss their feet," Poplett says.
Her mother, Val Perdue, says that in light of the carp population explosion, she might keep the Sea-Do off the river next summer. "Maybe we'll just go to lakes," she says.
Poplett laughs off that notion, making a chuckling vow to return to the river: "We'll take it out."
Her mother shakes her head, envisioning a dangerous swarm of Asian carp leaping above the Illinois River next summer.
"It's scary,'' she says. "Wait 'til next year."
Cliffs notes: woman is on a jetski and get smacked in the face by a leaping 20-40 pound carp. Knocks her off, leaving her nearly unconscious and she almost drowns.
http://www.pjstar.com/news/luciano/b13elb9l030.html
The Attack of the Killer Carp is no fish story.
During the past few years, the Illinois River has become lousy with Asian carp, which can reach 50 pounds and jump 10 feet above the surface.
This month produced Peoria's first human casualty.
A Peoria homemaker and mother of four was smacked in the face by a soaring carp that broke her bones and left her floundering bloody and unconscious in the river.
"I was fish-faced," says Marcy Poplett, 35, whose good fortune in the mishap allows her an occasional nervous titter. "... Thank God I had a life vest on.''
Even before the carp collision, she'd learned about the proliferating fish.
Asian carp were brought into Arkansas fish farms in the '70s to raise them for sale, mostly in China. The hearty bottom-feeders spawn year-round, often growing 40 inches long.
The American species top out at 40 to 50 pounds, though some varieties in Asia can hit 100.
Several years ago during a flood, Asian carp slipped from the Arkansas farms and wriggled up the Mississippi River and eventually up the Illinois. Conservationists worry about the impact of these big eaters chomping through the underwater food supply. And boaters fear the invasion, because - apparently when spooked by vibrating trolling motors - these carp can soar 10 feet up and 20 feet horizontally.
Until recently around Peoria, the carp had been a nuisance but not a threat. They often dive into pontoon boats, their thin skin exploding and blood splattering. Local anglers in john boats have taken to arming themselves with garbage-can lids to slam the sailing carp back into the water.
Marcy Poplett had her first carp encounter in early September as her family water-skied. Husband Joe saw a carp zoom right past his eyeballs.
"Get me the hell out of here!'' he yelled, abandoning his skis and heading for the safety of their boat.
Fast-forward to Oct. 11, a sunny Saturday marked with unusually warm weather, 75 degrees or so. Poplett had gone to the riverside home of her mother, who lives near the IVY Club, to help pull in a retractable dock for the winter.
But Poplett decided to take advantage of the nice weather and take her mother's Sea-Do for a final spin. About 1 p.m., she slipped on a wet suit and life jacket, fired up the watercraft and zipped downriver to observe the leaves.
She saw no other craft on the water except for one passing boat. She exchanged waves as she neared Detweiller Marina, where she noticed a breathtaking cluster of trees.
She let the motor idle, floating at perhaps 3 mph. Then she heard a splash and saw a flash.
SLAP! - carp right between the eyes.
"All of a sudden, it flew up and smacked me in the face,'' Poplett says. "Then I saw black.''
Knocked out, she fell into the water. She awoke face-down, gurgling on the brown water. She was in the middle-third of the lake but not in the channel, so she could touch her feet to the bottom.
Straining to stay conscious, she saw the Sea-Do floating away in the current. She tried to move toward the craft, which carried a cell phone. But her feet sank into the mud and she could hardly move, in part because her left leg felt pained and numb.
She passed out again, falling backward. When she came to, she couldn't see - blood had pooled in her eyes. She heard an approaching barge blasted five bells, the warning to move out of the way.
With her hands, Poplett tried to wipe the blood from her eyes. Spotting the boat that had passed by earlier, she waved her arms but fell unconscious again.
Luckily, the boaters, the Seal family of Pontiac, already had spied the unoccupied Sea-Do and veered over to look for the rider. The Seals glimpsed the bobbing Poplett, motored over to pull her out and called 911.
The East Peoria Fire Department sent out its rescue boat and transported her to the shore, where an ambulance took her to Methodist Medical Center. Poplett had suffered a concussion, black eye, broken nose, cracked vertebrae and severely bruised left leg, likely from bouncing off the side of the Sea-Do.
She does not know what happened to the carp.
Poplett wonders uncomfortably about what might've happened without the help of the Seal family (who couldn't be reached for comment). "I want to kiss their feet," Poplett says.
Her mother, Val Perdue, says that in light of the carp population explosion, she might keep the Sea-Do off the river next summer. "Maybe we'll just go to lakes," she says.
Poplett laughs off that notion, making a chuckling vow to return to the river: "We'll take it out."
Her mother shakes her head, envisioning a dangerous swarm of Asian carp leaping above the Illinois River next summer.
"It's scary,'' she says. "Wait 'til next year."
