I have got a picture of myself at about Sam’s age holding a small fish that I had caught. I have fond memories of my PaPaw taking me down to Gordo to a family catfish pond and fishing for as long as he would let me…but then sometime around the age of 10, we stopped going. My dad took me fishing as well, but for some reason the trips I remember more were of PaPaw. He would always load the truck with some catfish food, then we would go out near the milking barn and dig us up some worms. Being a pacifist, I would allow him to bait my hook as I caught fish after fish in that pond. I think he carried a rod and reel, but most of the time, let me reel it in. Then, of course, he would get the hook out. As I write this, I remember him so well…and I miss him.
But…as I cherish these memories, I also realize that I have no idea how to fish. So somewhere along the lines other boys were shooting bucks, reeling in the big one, and playing with snakes, I had my nose deep in a book…or out back shoveling poop out of our dog’s pen. Neither of these activities preparing me for the fact that one day my 4 year old son would want me to take him fishing.
But we went out and prepared for the event…I bought us each fishing poles…Mine a Zebco 33, selected mainly because it came with all the “stuff” you’re supposed to need while your fishing. Then I purchased Sam the “Transformer Robot” fishing pole. So we were ready to go.
Sam jumped into the wagon and we loaded it up with juice boxes, water, and “fishing stuff”. I also took a pair of gloves and some scissors just in case we caught one of them fishes. We also began with an application of Off to keep the bugs away. Before leaving I took 30 to 40 minutes, while Sam was so excited running around, to get the string knotted on a hook. Yes, I was reading the directions on the box. Remembering how PaPaw had gathered our worms, I went in the backyard and began digging. After minimal success, one starving worm, I remembered that PaPaw had also been digging in much better soil than I appeared to have. So Sam ran to grab us some bread for the fish.
Once at the lake…aka large pond…, we attempted to get started. I first remembered that we needed a bobber, and after staring at this contraption for much longer than ever required, I noticed how it worked to get it onto the string. I did NOT however realize that I was supposed to attach the string at both ends of the bobber. So I figured I was ready, I had the hook, bobber, and applied a small piece of bread to the hook.
The first cast with the Transformer reel was thrown and it quickly transformed into a mess of fishing line. So as Sam waited patiently singing, jumping, and exploring along the bank, I worked and worked on trying to get the string back into the transformer reel. But that did not work, so one reel down, I still had mine and figured he could just fish with mine.
After thinking that I had properly put everything in place, I sent forth a cast from my Zebco 33, then watched as my bobber kept flying much farther than my line ended up. As I reeled in the string, I noticed the bobber remained far out into the pond. My gut fishing instinct told me that this was not normal. And as the string made it back to the rod, I noticed that I no longer had a hook as well. Apparently with strong cast, and incorrect bobber installation, the bobber had slid down to the hook and knocked, what I now believe was an incorrectly tied knot, the hook off into the water.
After tying a new hook, placing a weight?? (aka metal clampy thing) after the bobber, and connecting the bobber correctly??, we finally began fishing. The large balls of bread were taken as a generous gift to the fish that continued to eat all of our bread but not taking hold of our hook. Sam excitedly got to reel the hook empty back in after waiting patiently for 1 hour. “One more cast” I said to Sam before we would leave for the day. Then it happened again, similar to the first cast of the day…the string would not return.
So we balled up the string on both of our reels and put them in the wagon. Sam told me that he would like to go fishing again, but has since not asked again. We have bought new fishing poles…yeah, I know…and hope to return once more. Maybe one day Sam will catch a fish and we can get his smiling picture, but his Dad needs a lot more practice.
But…as I cherish these memories, I also realize that I have no idea how to fish. So somewhere along the lines other boys were shooting bucks, reeling in the big one, and playing with snakes, I had my nose deep in a book…or out back shoveling poop out of our dog’s pen. Neither of these activities preparing me for the fact that one day my 4 year old son would want me to take him fishing.
But we went out and prepared for the event…I bought us each fishing poles…Mine a Zebco 33, selected mainly because it came with all the “stuff” you’re supposed to need while your fishing. Then I purchased Sam the “Transformer Robot” fishing pole. So we were ready to go.
Sam jumped into the wagon and we loaded it up with juice boxes, water, and “fishing stuff”. I also took a pair of gloves and some scissors just in case we caught one of them fishes. We also began with an application of Off to keep the bugs away. Before leaving I took 30 to 40 minutes, while Sam was so excited running around, to get the string knotted on a hook. Yes, I was reading the directions on the box. Remembering how PaPaw had gathered our worms, I went in the backyard and began digging. After minimal success, one starving worm, I remembered that PaPaw had also been digging in much better soil than I appeared to have. So Sam ran to grab us some bread for the fish.
Once at the lake…aka large pond…, we attempted to get started. I first remembered that we needed a bobber, and after staring at this contraption for much longer than ever required, I noticed how it worked to get it onto the string. I did NOT however realize that I was supposed to attach the string at both ends of the bobber. So I figured I was ready, I had the hook, bobber, and applied a small piece of bread to the hook.
The first cast with the Transformer reel was thrown and it quickly transformed into a mess of fishing line. So as Sam waited patiently singing, jumping, and exploring along the bank, I worked and worked on trying to get the string back into the transformer reel. But that did not work, so one reel down, I still had mine and figured he could just fish with mine.
After thinking that I had properly put everything in place, I sent forth a cast from my Zebco 33, then watched as my bobber kept flying much farther than my line ended up. As I reeled in the string, I noticed the bobber remained far out into the pond. My gut fishing instinct told me that this was not normal. And as the string made it back to the rod, I noticed that I no longer had a hook as well. Apparently with strong cast, and incorrect bobber installation, the bobber had slid down to the hook and knocked, what I now believe was an incorrectly tied knot, the hook off into the water.
After tying a new hook, placing a weight?? (aka metal clampy thing) after the bobber, and connecting the bobber correctly??, we finally began fishing. The large balls of bread were taken as a generous gift to the fish that continued to eat all of our bread but not taking hold of our hook. Sam excitedly got to reel the hook empty back in after waiting patiently for 1 hour. “One more cast” I said to Sam before we would leave for the day. Then it happened again, similar to the first cast of the day…the string would not return.
So we balled up the string on both of our reels and put them in the wagon. Sam told me that he would like to go fishing again, but has since not asked again. We have bought new fishing poles…yeah, I know…and hope to return once more. Maybe one day Sam will catch a fish and we can get his smiling picture, but his Dad needs a lot more practice.
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