The Things That We Learn Fishing

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.