Unique Experiences at the “Cajun Riviera” - Holly Beach, LA
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Growing up on the “Cajun Prairie” in Ville Platte, my family always looked forward to heading south each summer to experience life along the Louisiana coast. Our favorite destination was Holly Beach in Cameron Parish, where we spent a week each year enjoying what became a cherished family tradition. We rented a beach camp from a Cajun family who generously made it available to other Cajun vacationers. Those summer days were filled with swimming, crabbing, beachcombing, cooking seafood, collecting seashells, and searching for the unique treasures that often washed ashore or were tossed overboard from ships traveling across the Gulf. Every day seemed to bring a new adventure. One of our favorite activities was catching fresh blue crabs in the nearby canals and roadside ditches. We would return to the camp with buckets full of crabs that were later boiled and enjoyed throughout the week. Even today, those vacations remain some of my fondest childhood memories.
The culinary highlight of every trip was the enormous seafood gumbo prepared by my parents and grandparents. The process began days before the gumbo was actually served. Family members gathered around the table picking crab meat, peeling fresh shrimp, and patiently stirring a rich, dark roux. Just as important as the meal itself were the conversations, laughter, and anticipation that built throughout the week as everyone predicted just how delicious the finished gumbo would be.
Like so many Cajun family traditions, preparing the meal was every bit as enjoyable as eating it. One of the more unusual features of Holly Beach during those years was the population of wild feral hogs that freely roamed the shoreline. They survived by feeding on dead fish and other marine life that washed onto
the beach. Although they generally left people alone, they certainly detracted from the peaceful beach atmosphere that most families were seeking.
Years later, I learned that many of these hogs also foraged at a large parish landfill located north of Holly Beach. When Louisiana transitioned away from open dumps during the late 1970s, the landfill was eventually closed, helping reduce one of the hogs' primary food sources.
In 1978, after completing graduate school at LSU, I accepted my first professional position as an LSU Sea Grant Marine Advisory Agent in Cameron Parish. Soon after arriving, I joined the Cameron Lions Club and was surprised to learn that one of its ongoing community improvement projects was the removal of the feral hogs from Holly Beach. The goal was simple: improve tourism and make the beach more enjoyable for residents and visitors alike. The project proved successful
and significantly enhanced the beach experience for countless families. Who would have imagined that my childhood memories of Holly Beach's roaming “beach hogs” would later connect so directly with my civic improvement and professional career?
One of my primary Sea Grant Program responsibilities was working to advance Louisiana's seafood industry…assisting commercial and recreational fishermen, seafood processors, wholesalers, retailers, and entrepreneurs interested in starting or expanding seafood businesses throughout Cameron Parish.
One day, I was asked to visit a live-crab buyer and his wife whose business happened to be located in Holly Beach—my old summer stomping grounds. To protect their privacy, I will simply refer to them as Mr. and Mrs. Couleau.
Upon my arrival they warmly welcomed me and immediately offered a
tour of their operation. The facility included a large refrigerated cooler
for storing live crabs purchased from commercial crabbers and a walk-in freezer stocked with frozen pogies (menhaden), which they sold as crab
bait.
As we toured the facility, I noticed their small pet dog faithfully following us everywhere we went—even into both the cooler and the freezer. After discussing their business and offering several recommendations for improving their operation, I returned to my office in Cameron to prepare a written report.
About two weeks later, while traveling through Holly Beach, I decided
to stop by and see how the Couleau’s were doing. Mr. Couleau greeted
me warmly, and we talked about the recommendations I had made
during my previous visit. Then I casually asked, "Where's the little dog that followed us around the last time I was here?" His expression immediately changed.
With obvious sadness, he explained that during my earlier visit the dog
had apparently followed us into the walk-in freezer but somehow failed
to follow us out. Neither he nor Mrs. Couleau realized the dog was
missing until later that day, when Mr. Couleau discovered it frozen solid
inside the freezer. Mr. Couleau then proceeded to tell me that he
painstakingly carried the dog into the house to share the heartbreaking
news with his wife.
Without missing a beat, Mrs. Couleau looked at him and naively asked,
"Would he be okay if we just thawed him out?"
As heartbreaking as the situation was, Mr. Couleau gently explained
that, unfortunately, once frozen solid, their beloved pet could not simply
be thawed and brought back to life.
That unforgettable exchange has stayed with me for nearly fifty years. It
reflected not only the couple's deep affection for their little dog but also
the innocence and hope that sometimes emerge during moments of grief.
This experience certainly falls into my collection of stories that prove
you simply cannot make these things up. It is just one of the many
unforgettable encounters I enjoyed during my years working as an LSU
Sea Grant Extension Agent in Cameron Parish—a place filled with
remarkable people, unforgettable characters, and experiences that
continue to bring a smile to my face.
Until next time,
Paul Coreil
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