The
Things That We Learn Fishing
To
those out there that do not do much bass fishing, you may have an idea in your
head that fishing is easy. You cast out, you reel in, and BAM! You catch a
fish. You may even hold a notion that you just need to squish an old wiggling
worm on your hook and wait for your cork to go under. Well, bass fishing does
not work that way. Everything is done with artificial lures ranging from
plastic worms to jigs, spinner baits, and crank baits that represent bait fish
fleeing the hungry bass you are trying to catch. You need to have knowledge of
the structure your prey likes to stalk around, their tendencies at different
water temperatures as well as their movements during different times of year.
Of course, a blind hog can find an acorn every once in a while just as an amateur
angler can find a straggling bass on a large lake wondering the open water
looking for a free meal but having the knowledge of the species really helps to
keep you from spending hours of casting blindly.
This past weekend I
fished a bass tournament with the Kentucky
Pro Bass Warrior’s and had a blast! After spending several hours in the
boat with our partner Donnie and a buddy of mine Chris, I started thinking
about all of the things I had learned about bass fishing. A great majority of
it was through what dad had learned from his experiences and others were
through publications like Bassmasters
and In-Fisherman. I remember when I
was about ten, my dad and I was watching Bassmasters
on TV one cold December morning and there was a pro angler talking about how
the heat of wood and rock attracts bass because that water will be warmer than
the rest of the water in the area you are fishing. He then went on to use a
rubber worm with very light weight and let it sink very slowly along large
rocks and stumps to where these fish were hiding. It seemed like every cast he
was catching another bass and by the end of the show we were itching with
fishing fever.
“Think we should go fishing?” Dad asked.
“Yep.” I said as I ran outside to grab my fishing
gear and stash it in our boat.
Like I said, it was December and when we arrived at
our destination nearly two hours later there was a very thin sheet of ice
around the boat ramp.
“Doesn’t look like anyone else is dumb enough to
fish today.”
“We are!” I said excitedly.
We trolled our boat out
past the ice and found a spot where the water was roughly ten to twelve foot
deep with a wooden wall going all the way down to the lake bottom. The wall was
built to keep some rich people’s back yards from washing into the lake but it
fit the description we needed to practice what we had just learned from
watching Bassmasters. We began
casting just as we had seen on the show and before long we began to haul in
bass after bass from that wooden sea wall. Though we were freezing and every so
often we had to knock the ice out of the eyelets of our reels and poles, we
were catching a large number of fish. After catching our limit and having our
limit of the cold weather as well, we trolled back to the boat ramp and I
stepped out onto the boat dock and held on to our tow rope as dad went to
retrieve the Jeep. After backing the trailer into the icy water he stepped out
onto the trailer and said, “Ok, bring me the rope so I can pull the boat onto
the trailer.”
Those were simple
instructions but I felt it was easier to toss the rope to him. Like the lessons
we had learned that day in fishing, I was about to learn one in physics. The
distance between my dad and I was farther than the length of the rope that I
had in my hand. The rope snapped tight in midair and then fell into the icy
water while the boat slowly began to drift away from us. Dad started at me disbelieving.
“I said BRING me the rope. Not THROW me the rope.”
“Yeah. That was stupid.”
“You think. Well you better go get it.”
I looked at the water. “Me?”
“Yea you. I didn’t throw the rope in there. Better
hurry to because that boat is getting farther away.”
I dove into the water and instantly had the air
sucked from my lungs but I was a trooper and swam to the tow rope and this time
brought it to my dad. After getting it loaded on the trailer and ourselves in
the Jeep I noticed that my pants were frozen solid. Lesson learned. A good day
fishing can be ruined by a lesson in physics and a two hour ride home in a soft
topped Jeep without a properly working heater.
Another lesson in
physics I was taught through fishing was the act of “every action has an equal and opposite reaction.” This lesson took
place on the same body of water, in the same boat, on the same boat ramp, but I
had learned my lesson about tossing the rope to my dad. I was a bit older so I
was allowed to use our outboard to push the boat up on the trailer. I did this
like a pro and dad hooked the boat onto the trailer with the safety strap and
asked, “You wanna hop out before I pull up the ramp?”
“No, I am good. Go ahead.”
What I didn’t realize
was that the boat ramp was washed out just past where the trailer was sitting. I
also didn’t realize that dad knew this and he planned on driving a little
faster than normal to insure that he could pull the trailer through the deep
wash out. When the trailer tire, located under me, hit the lip of the drop off
it shot up like a rocket. This caused me to then shoot out of my seat like a
ragdoll that had been seated on top of the rocket, throwing me roughly 700 feet
in the air (Ok, that is an exaggeration) and then splashed down into the water
along with my tackle box and several fishing poles. Luckily this time when I
fell into the water it was not winter but midsummer so the water was somewhat
refreshing, though shocking at the same time. I sputtered to the surface to the
voice of my dad hollering, “Grab my poles! Grab my poles!” I began swimming
around the small cove collecting what gear that was floating, including lures
that had escaped my open tackle box. By the time I exited the water I looked
like a walking Rapala advertisement with
crank baits dangling from every bit of my clothing. Dad was laughing so hard that
he was bent over trying to catch his breath.
“That was not funny.” I said as I tried to pull
hooks from my shirt.
“Yes it was! I looked in the rear view mirror and you
shot out of that seat like you was being abducted by aliens! You went right up
in the air!” He howled with laughter again and this time I had to laugh.
“It was pretty neat to fly.” I said sheepishly.
“Maybe next time you will get out of the boat, huh?”
“Only when you are driving, Dad.”
We learn so much each
time we hit the water and it is not always on ways we catch the fish. This past
weekend the fishing was tough. There were a few tournaments going on besides
our own and we were in the mix of all those boats, bad weather, and low water
conditions. Most people would just give up and quit fishing but that just isn’t
how we work. We were in it for the long haul. I spent the large majority of the
day without a fish (but loving the fact I was fishing) until Donnie, our
volunteer who took us fishing, suggested I use a jig. He showed me how to rig
it and how to work it and on my second cast I reeled in a spotted bass. That is
all I needed. It wasn’t a monster but it was enough for me to realize that as a
fisherman, I am always that child learning something new.
As we weighed in our
fish we watched as other soldiers brought their catches in, patted each other
on the back and shared their fishing stories and my heart felt good. I felt
like a whole person again. I had spent the whole week with the mindset that I
wanted to win, I wanted to walk away with the biggest fish, and strut around to
the song, “We are the Champion’s” but instead I learned something. Winning isn’t
just the person who walks away with the most or biggest fish. It is the person
who walks away with the greatest amount of joy in his heart. Donnie Davis,
Buster Meador, and Kaoru O’Bryan (and many other volunteers that I do not
remember their names) took the time out of their weekend to take some of us
fishing so that we could have this experience and bring that joy to us and we
appreciate it. They not only shared their time but their boat, equipment, their
own money, and their vast knowledge of bass fishing to insure that we walked
away with a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. I thank them for that,
for teaching us things we didn’t know, and not throwing me from the boat.
