A day of fishing
I would like to thank each of you for the comments of my experiences. Considering these topics have received notice, I think I will offer up another one for your entertainment.
One of my “Father and Son” outings with my dad was to fish. We would find streams, ponds, lakes, and even the ocean to pass the time.
I remember one summer we were at our favorite lake trying to catch dinner. Because I was a young child, my father would cast my line out into the water for me and I would sit back and watch the end of my fishing pole. When a fish would nibble on the bait at the other end of the line, I would notify my dad so he could set the hook and hand me the pole to catch my fish. This is a common practice between father and young son. Until this one particular day, when the stars were out of their alignment and clocks seemed to turn in reverse, yes existence seemed to take an altered course as we began our day.
The plan was to fish the shore early, then head out on the lake in the boat and return when the rest of our family arrived and continue fishing with them on the shore. While the majority remained as planned, the details changed significantly with the first nibble on my line. I called my dad over to check the line and certainly there was a fish on the other end. With the hook set, I took the fishing pole from my father as I noticed his pole dancing with a fish also. It was a great moment as my father and I both brought in our fish. I could see my fish from the shore and pointed it out to my father and he argued that it was his fish I was seeing. As the fish emerged from the water, it had two set hooks belonging to each of us. This was the only time I have seen one fish caught on two poles; however, this was later topped by a fish caught without any bait, hook, or line.
We then launched the boat and went down to our “secret” spot. Most anglers have the one spot they like to fish because it has always been reliable. As we arrived to the secret spot, we noticed another boat with two gentlemen in our location. So, we dropped anchor just far enough away, as to not interfere with their day and yet close enough that we could hit the hole at the bottom of the lake. As my dad and I fished, I happened to look in the direction of the two men in the other boat and see a fish jump from out of the water into the very center of their boat. With nothing else to capture my attention I watched the events unfold in the other boat. Both men first looked at the fish with an obvious recognition of the other’s catch. Then, as a realization set in of no connecting fishing line, each man began to lay claim on the fish. First, a discussion led to an argument and escaladed into in all out fight between these men in their small boat. Needless to say, greed shortened their day of fishing and they soon left. The desire for having it all does not always have to be in a boat, when it comes to fishing.
With word of the remaining family member’s arrival, we recovered the boat onto the trailer and made our way to the meeting point on the lake. My uncle and cousins soon arrived and the entire clan began our fishing adventure as a team. My uncle, an avid Bass Fisherman, brought out his enormous tackle for the fight that he would soon encounter. From the shore, he could see three bass varying in size settled in under a rock about ten feet into the water. After catching two of the three, he set his sights on the third which was the larger of the others; however, it completely ignored the plastic worm the other two so anxiously attacked. He finally resolved himself into leaving the plastic worm in sight of the bass and grabbed a lure from his tackle box and pulled it as close as possible to the bass’ mouth with no luck. Try after try, my uncle became more and more determined to catch this fish. The bass would not budge, that is until the lure came too close to the plastic worm. This bass was contemplating the worm and did not wish any other creature to take it, so it attacked the lure with such force, no "hook setting" would be required on my uncle’s part. Realizing an error, the bass immediately wrapped the line under the rock where the fish had previously rested and my uncle’s fight was only beginning. Following much effort, we finally hailed a nearby boat for some verticle assistance with this fish. The boat operator had left his pole with the line trailing on the stern of the craft as he unweaves my uncle’s line from around the rock. My uncle began to bring back his empty line, as the bass had managed to “spit” the hook, but my uncle did manage to retain all of his bait.
At this point, the boat driver began his departure from the area only to have the boat’s propeller pull a fishing pole over the back. Disappointed in the loss of his equipment, while he was only trying to help another angler, the man slowed his speed on his way out of the cove. My uncle made one last cast to catch this “monster” bass and had a bite. Something grabbed my uncle’s hook so strong and bent his fishing pole over past 110 degree bend. My uncle was elated when he brought to shore- the boat operator's fishing pole. We called the gentleman back over and returned his property and walked away with only the story I have just written.
I promise this to NOT be, another wild fish(Y) story.