My swamp observer brothers
By Bob Kimball

This letter is written to all the observers that had the misfortune, and luck to become swamp people.  I spent to torturous years as an observer for Seis Pros in the swamps of Alabama.  I would like to share a few of my memories.  OK where do I start.  Ever have your pull boat almost sunk by barges as you were trying to reach your set up point?  Bad enough just to get off the river.  Then you begin trying to pull the dog house.  You would wench your pull boat from tree to tree.  Rotten tree tops falling all over.  You pray they didn't have a wasps nest.  You reach your site and the day is gone.  A swamp buggy comes to take you back, and it breaks down.  Again you pray you won't be spending the night out there.  Then you make it back to the office and some drunk party manager lays into you for the lack of production.    You go back out the next day, only to find that swamp rats have bitten through four of you cables.  Here we go again.  Let us not forget the crazy Cajuns they hire to drive the buggies, and air boats.  They get a real kick out of dropping by and throwing ten baby alligators into your pull boat. Ha Ha.  On a good day we would shoot a half a mile.  Then you have the company supervisors who don't know jack about swampers.  Again they lay it all on you.  These were the worst days of a 14 year doodle bugging career.  They were also the best.  Only a swamper knows where I'm coming from.  Here's to you my brothers.  Bob Kimball