Wednesday, October 29, 2008

My First Real Fish


One of the most vivid memories of my youth was the time I caught my very first big fish.

Must have been about 8 and in the third grade. Went with Dad to a small pond located somewhere near Tomball, which was sure enough out in the country in those days.

We were not having any luck catching anything. Couldn't even get the small perch to bite. I was at that stage when I was just learning how to cast with a rod and reel. I asked Dad if I could borrow his nice Shakespeare rig and practice casting. He said: "Well, since I'm not having any luck, sure go ahead. I'll walk down the shoreline a way with a cane pole and see if I can at least catch some perch."

So, he put a heavy "Devil's Horse" topwater lure on the line of the rod and reel and gave me a few pointers on how to cast it at a distance and how to tug on the line in such a way as to make the lure mimic a small swimming fish.

I remember how fun it was just to watch the wriggling action of the lure as I gently tugged on the line.

I told Dad I would not know what to do if a big bass were to strike because I'd never caught anything larger than a perch.

As Dad walked away he said: "There's not much chance of you catching anything right now because it's about noon and it's hot and bass generally are not feeding at this time of day. So, you don't have to worry about a big bass striking. It will be good practice for you to work on casting."

After practicing on casting for a while I began to get tired of it and had decided to forget about fishing and instead to go find a good place to go swimming.

So, I was reeling the lure back toward the shore, just watching one last time at how the Devil's Horse looked like a real fish swimming along the surface of the water.

Then, all of a sudden something happened that scared the daylights out of me. The lure was only about 6 yards away from the bank, and there was a loud splash as a very large bass attacked the lure and jumped high out of the water.

I was so shocked and surprised that I completely forgot about the rod and reel, which popped right out of my hands.

Fortunately, Dad was returning and saw what was happening. He had enough presence of mind to jump down the bank and grab the rod & reel just before it disappeared into the water.

He handed the rod to me. "Here. You caught him, so it's up to you to bring him in."

I had heard stories about how a large mouth bass can really put up a fight, and I'm here to tell you, those stories are not just "fish tales." That fish literally dragged me into the water. But I stood my ground and landed him, even if it was in the shallow, muddy water. By the time I grabbed him by the lower lip, Dad had a bass net and he jumped in the water and worked the bass into the net.

He was really proud of me, and I was grinning from ear to ear.

When we got home, Mom prepared the fish by lightly dusting it with a corn meal mixture, and she then pan fried it. I've never tasted better fish in my life.

Also, I've caught quite a few fish since then, but I've never quite captured the magic and thrill of the time I caught my very first "real" fish.

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