Legends Fishing

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 Mar 5

A short drive in my Morgan through a wooded lane opens up to what appears to be a beautiful, natural lake in the outskirts of Forest Row, Kent, England.

The lake has been stocked with beautiful Rainbows and large Brown trout. Only fly fishing was permitted, and to see the outfits the Brits wear while fly fishing would astound any American. Ties, tan shirts, tweed jackets and mid thigh waders and they can cast a fly.

Each day I purchased a one trout limit license, so you can catch and release all day and still take one home for dinner.

I used a small rowboat and wore jeans and a sweatshirt and caught more trout than my British friends. Dry flies for browns and wet flies for rainbows, This was heaven. You could see Church steeples and rooftops of Forest Row from the lake, as well as huge bales of hay, flocks of sheep, and hear the contented mooing of cows. And great fishing.

posted by Dan on Jan 19

The Start

Catholic Grammar School in Brooklyn, New York was a mixture of several elements that helped create the rest of my life. My attendance record was flawless with not a day missed nor tardy which translated to great health and learning to avoid confrontations with nuns or even worse my parents. My mother’s philosophy was if I was breathing in the morning I went to school.

Imagine having great grades in every subject and also receiving certificates for attendance but always receiving a U in conduct, which stood for unsatisfactory. I had too good of a time in every class and really didn’t have to study hard or even have to worry about school work at all so I filled my time with giggles and pranks and the evil twist of faith was no one cared that I had great grades. That U made my life a nightmare.

Early Christmas one morning I ran down to the Tree and there was a huge unwrapped box. I opened the lid and there was a dissembled J C HIGGINS English Racer bicycle, with the smell of oiled parts wafting from the box. I learned that it would be kept in the basement until such time that I was upgraded from my usual U in conduct.

My next conduct grade was VU. For very sure I was not ever going to get that bike. I decided that I had to get that bike and just at the end of that term I got an S for SATISFACTORY and my Dad put the red beauty together. I had wheels for the summer. There was never a car for the rest of my life that ever replaced the excitement of driving out of my driveway on that sexy red machine.

I decided to purchase a cane fishing pole, probably 10 ‘ in one piece, and off I went early on a weekday morning riding two miles to to a bait store. And, with a frozen box of “Killies” I rode another mile up Flatbush Avenue, rode on to the docks, and there I was fishing for small Bluefish.

Watching the water with the attention of expecting a parting of the bay I suddenly saw a school of fish slashing and boiling out of the water as they came right at me and my cane pole. That silly rod bent and I pulled out my first fish. And a Bluefish at that. My heart pounded in my chest, and my breath stopped until I raise that pole, and MY bluefish swung toward me.

Now I had to remove it from the hook. Did I say remove if from the hook?  The fish refused to sit still. It didn’t like me at all and refused to cooperate. I sweat and strained to get it free, and when I finally recovered my hook I caught another and another and another. A passion that still makes my heart pound and my breath stop was started and has never left.

That first day of fishing by myself with just my own silent voice narrating every minute on that dock, that wide eyed look when I spotted fish, and the chance to prove my worth and catch one fish made fishing so exciting and irreplaceable in my heart.