The Bayou’s Secret

In the shadowy waters of the Mobile-Tensaw Delta—where cypress trees whisper secrets to the wind and Spanish moss drapes like ghosts of the past—a legend has been passed down for centuries: the tale of the Deerfish.

Some say it’s just a myth, told by old river folk to keep outsiders from wandering too deep into the swamps. But those who’ve lived here long enough, who’ve seen the ripples when the water is still or heard the unnatural rustling in the reeds when the night is quiet, know better.

It began with Captain Eli Boudreaux, a trapper and moonshiner in the late 1800s. Known for his potent homebrew, hidden deep in the Delta, Eli lived by the water. One evening, as he checked his traps along the riverbank, he saw something strange—a set of antlers breaking through the mist-covered water, like a buck had taken to the river itself.

But then it moved—gliding, not walking—its pale bones stark against the black water, ribs and spine twisting in the current, its empty sockets locking with his. It let out a low, guttural bellow, part deer… part something far more ancient.

Eli ran back to his camp, breath ragged, flask trembling in his hand. He swore until his dying day that the creature was real, that it looked him in the eye, and that those eyes glowed like embers in the dark.

The Curse of the Bayou

The locals believed the Deerfish was no ordinary beast. Some claimed it was the spirit of an old Choctaw hunter, cursed to roam the waters after breaking an ancient law of the land. Others whispered it was the guardian of the Delta, protecting the waters from those who took more than they gave.

Stranger still, those who spoke of the Deerfish too often seemed to vanish soon after. Boats found drifting with no one aboard. Fishermen disappearing without a trace. Supplies abandoned mid-use, as if their owner had been plucked from existence.

The legend spread—told between sips of moonshine in backwoods bars, scratched in the margins of old hunters’ journals, even captured in a faded black-and-white photograph: the eerie silhouette of antlers breaking the water’s surface.

The Birth of Deerfish Distilling Co.

In 2024, two husband-and-wife duos—Austin and Ashley Hallford, and Lee and Emilie Hallford—set out to bring a new kind of craft to Mobile. Drawn to the folklore and flavors of the Delta, they founded Deerfish Distilling Co., naming it after the creature that haunts Mobile’s murky waters.

Their mission was simple—capture the wild, untamed spirit of the bayou in every can and bottle they create. They began with Fish Hook—crisp, refreshing vodka seltzers crafted and canned in-house—each flavor inspired by the region’s bounty and the stories whispered along the riverbanks. The distillery’s future holds even bolder creations, but for now, each sip carries a taste of the Delta and a nod to its most elusive guardian.

Local legend says that on certain foggy nights, if you enjoy a Fish Hook by the water’s edge, you might hear the call of the Deerfish in the distance. Some claim it’s a warning. Others say it’s an invitation.

Whatever the truth may be, one thing is certain—the Deerfish is out there, watching, waiting. And if you ever find yourself by the river under a full moon, keep your drink close… and your wits closer.