posted by Dan on Jul 13
Many years ago, my friend Mark, and another friend named Frank, and I would make a routine of fishing the big lake in Florida. It seems I have never outgrown the total enthusiasm I have for fishing. Whether riding my bicycle in the dark just to be fishing at daybreak, or just getting up too early for Frank and Mark. That never left me. I get just too excited about fishing
It would be pitch dark out and I’d have bacon cooking, eggs out and coffee on and be too excited to breathe. Already I had looked outside the cabin and saw there was NO WIND. Eggs on , can’t wait. Suddenly there were shouts from the other bedrooms “Quit that cooking we have hours before safe light.”
Safe light? Who cares about that NOW? My idea is to be totally ready before whatever that safe light meant. Lazy guys. I could never go back to sleep so I drank my coffee and read a magazine, re-lined one of my reels and oiled every piece of my equipment. Safe light. NUTS!
posted by Dan on May 21
My Bass Boat was equipped with everything you could hope for, with the intention of becoming a pro. Ha! Clever boy. I would love to go out by myself. To Alligator Alley, Loxahatchie, Holiday Park and so on. Just load the boat, fuel up, pick what wanted to eat and drink and just loved the uncomplicated feeling.
My boat was equipped with an oil filled compass. Sure that looked like a perfect solution to prevent getting lost. You understand that weather had no bearing on my going fishing or not.
I was a rainy day and I went out in a new direction. When I stopped I began fishing with the trolling motor and made lefts and right and around and around having a great time. Suddenly, it was dark. NO SUN, and NO IDEA WHERE I WAS. I shut every thing down and sat there totally lost.
After about 15 minutes, checking how much food and drinks I had, with the intention of spending the night, I heard a horn beep in the distance. I noted the direction, looked at the dumb compass and out I came. You do realize what some of us will do for a little rainy day fun.
posted by Dan on May 19
We’ve had jobs and positions at various times in our lives. Some were fun and others are in the category of, ‘What the hell was I thinking?’ One of these for me was owning a very busy advertising agency.
There was a huge amount of stress, deadlines, and too much running around. Yes I made loads of money but I needed some ME time.
One particular afternoon I just got in my bass boat and headed for the Everglades. I was in such a hurry to get away I didn’t even bother to change my clothes. Soon I hit this clearing and the quiet was so heavy you could hear the line peeling off the reel when I made a cast. That was followed my the plop of my spinner bait in the water. NICE AND QUIET..
Then, just when I thought this was heaven, and a million miles away from anything stressful, my pager begins to BEEP BEEP BEEP. So, I calmly took it off my belt and threw it as far as I could, as it continued to BEEP BEEP through the air, as if it were protesting its impending death. PLOP.
My thought was, HA. I’M FISHING. Nothing is more important. Don’t you agree?
posted by Dan on Apr 30
The English Fly fisherman wore a tweed jacket, usually a tan colored shirt, vest, tie and twill pants. He sat onshore on a combination walking stick and seat in silver usually. Now this was a site and very gentle, just like England.
I must have been a site in a t-shirt and jeans, and catching fish, and usually more than they did. Wet flies for Rainbows and dry for the brown trout. Each day you bought a permit for the number of fish you could keep. I chose one fish, since this was the cheapest permit, and I always released them anyway. Now the funny thing is I always used a small row boat rather than fish from shore.
England is a wonderful country, no Fourth of July picnics, no Halloween, no Thanksgiving either, but whew, the fishing and the people are all first class. You realize the Brits like things a little slower and calmer than us but that suits fishing just fine.
posted by Dan on Apr 27
When my son was about 11, we both enjoyed having breakfast at a little restaurant at the pier on Commercial Blvd in Fort Lauderdale. Then we would grab our rods and go out onto the pier.
To this day I couldn’t figure how many Spanish Mackerel, Pompano, Blue fish, Snook, and for sheer fun Barracuda, and huge Needle fish, we caught. It was an amazing pier for an 11 year old and his dad.
During one week I was in a Sport’s Authority picking up a few things and there I spotted a beautiful Guy Harvey t-shirt with a great illustration of Tuna. It was very white. I wore it to the pier that following Saturday.
Lots of inconsiderate pier people use the pier rails as bait cutting platforms, and the result of this is that the rails can get pretty dirty.
I leaned on the rail to look straight down into the water. I leaned my new WHITE shirt against the edge of the rail and came up with a black line across my new WHITE shirt. This was upsetting and I said to my son; “Look at this.” He look at the black line and just shook his head and said; “That’s Pier Pressure, Dad.”
I just stared at him in awe. We all think OUR kids are smart, but this set me way back. I just started laughing, and he did as well. And that was fishing with my kid.
posted by Dan on Apr 21
When I was young it was sometimes a tough choice between riding my bicycle miles out of my way for a frozen box of small bait fish or to try to create a better solution.
The trick I came up with was using a milk bottle. With a strong string tied around the neck of the bottle I’d put some bread inside the bottle and fill it with water. Then I threw the bottle about three or four feet from shore and lo and behold, the small bait fish swam into the bottle to get the bread. All I had to do then was lift up the bottle by the string, quickly, and there I go with some live bait.
That milk bottle traveled with me for a few summers and always worked and always helped me catch fish. Later I learned to throw a spoon and did even better just alternating the retrieve. At that point the milk bottle was retired.
posted by Dan on Apr 20
I began taking my son fishing for bass in the Everglades when he was still in diapers. He loved it. As he got a little older I would hook a fish and hand it to him. When he was ten, we walked around a lake fishing for bass again but he was bored. But by this time he was becoming a very accomplished salt water fisherman. He said to come with him. So, I bought a bait bucket and two dozen live shrimp and away we went.
He rigged up my bass rod with a hook, leader and live shrimp, and said cast out on the end of the canal that ended with a little beach. He just said hold on. Bang! A big Jack hit my shrimp and he didn’t lie down for one second. The fight was incredible. So incredible in fact that it ruined me for life. Bass are fun and I still do it but wow saltwater fish.
My son now travels the Bill Fish Tournament circuit and he is a pro. Ill get a video from him in action. I am good, he is better.
posted by Dan on Apr 17
I grew up in the Mill Basin section of Brooklyn, New York. The inlets and small islands around the area were a gold mine for a kid who loved to go fishing. Some of these small islands were about a three hundred yard swim. With a fishing pole, and a glass jar for catching live bait, it was a real trick to get out there. This swim was usually with other friends that went there just to cook potatoes, hot dogs while I fished. This area is now a nature preserve ( Brooklyn,ha! Nature)
When I see the same swim now, I would think twice, but then again if it meant good fishing and depending on the swim, Who Knows.
Brooklyn
posted by Dan on Apr 14
I was walking along a city canal along University Drive and Miramar Parkway in South Florida, casting along with a bass rod and a baitcasting reel. On the way down I picked up lots of smaller fish similar to what I’d caught there before.
I had passed a 4′ x 8′ sheet of plywood but felt it was too risky to lose my little diving plug. However, on the return walk, while fishing on the way back to the car I decided to cast right next to the sheet of plywood. The plug landed one inch from the left side and I cranked the lure. It dove and stuck. Damn. I knew there were nails on the plywood. I pointed my rod straight at the lure and began pulling to try to pull the the plywood sheet to me and get my lure. Suddenly my lure pulled back.
Now if you know how tight you make your drag when you bass fish, it was to my surprise that the drag began to sing. After a while I finally got it in and my eyes popped. A guy cleaning his bass boat in his driveway screamed and dived for a scale.
That dirty canal produced a 16 pound largemouth. And that is no fish story. This guy who lived nearby was more excited than me and all he said was “Biggest ever.” With that I looked at this trophy and thought about what that fish could produce and I set it loose back into the canal. What a gene pool.
Largemouth Bass
posted by Dan on Apr 13
My friend Mark and I were fishing on the Big Lake in Florida and the temperature suddenly dropped radically and it became a fight to keep fishing and stop chattering from the cold.
In my tackle box I had a flask of Drambuie and we just downed that immediately to no avail. I suddenly put my hand in the water and felt it was very warm. Out came the waders and over the side we went and finally got warm. Fishing was back on and we caught our dinner. Hushpuppies, fresh largemouth, stewed tomatoes, cause when in Rome, or Okeechobe at a fish camp, that’s what we eat.
Everglades Grass
