Tagged: hook

Feb 26

a fish story (but not a whopper of a tale)

I have decided never to make promises on my blog, because whenever I do I feel a moral obligation to fulfill them. So, as promised, here’s my fishing story.

Besides this latest escapade, I haven’t been fishing in forever. The last time I went was when I was a wee little person and my family was camping. A guy was fishing with his son who was about my age, and they invited me to fish with them. I knew nothing about fishing, but I loved it. A few years before that, my neighbor was into fishing, and he used to give me his fishing rod and send me out into the yard and let me cast it as far as I could. The hook landed in the tree a lot, but he always got it down for me and let me keep playing. It’s worth mentioning that neither of these experiences caught me a fish or taught me how to bait a hook or anything like that, so basically I have zero experience with real world fishing.

Regardless, I went to a party a while back where the family lived on a lake and I felt like fishing. SO, I did. Kind of. I did watch carefully as to how I was supposed to put bait on the hook. The person telling me how to do it was very good at it – the hook went right through the top of the teeny fish mouth just like it was supposed to, very easily and no blood or guts or anything. It was not nearly as gross as I had thought it would be (for which I was glad – and I thought maybe I have the courage to use live bait after all). Anyway, so I got all set up, settled in, casted the line and instantly got it all tangled up. Once it was untangled, I plunked my hook into the water and sat there for a few minutes. It didn’t seem like very long before there was a tug on the line and I got excited, but by the time I got the line reeled in I realized whatever it was had eaten the bait right off the hook. SO, I got another little fish (which was an adventure in itself and it took me like five whole minutes trying to catch one from the bucket with my hand) and my dad was trying to help me put the hook in its mouth, but we did it wrong and the poor fish started gasping and bleeding and we couldn’t get the hook all the way through its head. It was quite traumatizing. Anyway my dad finally got it on the hook and I plopped the line back in the water. I had not been fishing 15 seconds before another fish came and ate the bait off the hook again. I got really mad at the fish, because they are not supposed to be smarter than me, even if I am a beginner. After that I took another six minutes or so to catch another fish out of the bucket and a few more minutes after that to put him on the hook (again unsuccessfully and the poor fish took a beating. It amazes me how slowly they die, I felt bad). By the time that one was finally on, I was ready to catch the dumb fish instead of the fish stealing my bait. After that though, perhaps sensing my confidence, the fish would not bite. No more fish came. None. Zip. Zero. A boat floated by and caught one very near me, but I didn’t catch any.

Still, I feel accomplished in the fact that I caught two live bait fish thingies with my bare hands, didn’t freak out when they were bleeding and dying right in front of me, and I only got the line tangled once. Also, the fish did actually come to me, whether I caught them or not, which makes me feel good. I also enjoyed just sitting on the dock and watching boaters and jet skiers and stuff go by. There were some people tubing, and someone had a tube that was like a couch! It had 3 people sitting on it and it looked way fun. Also I was reminded that everyone waves to everyone around water; why is that? It’s a weird boating and water sports complex or something. It actually also happens when camping, so maybe it is just some sort of generalized recreational complex?

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