Normally when someone pulls up this page they are looking for some information about where the trout are tearing up those patiently casted lures. Or maybe where the reds are running and spooling reels faster than Tiger Woods making his first million after turning pro! But this month I was hoping to write about something that anglers would be able to refer back too during these up and coming months when they are hauling in those ice chest off their boats full of trout, reds, drum and blanket size flounder. This months article will try to rekindle those old memories of long ago days when we all took those first steps toward being the jaded (fill up those ice chest with fish) that we have become. Back to the days of yester year when we all thought a spoon was for eating and not for fishing!! A strike was a termed used in baseball.Shrimp were for boiling and not wasting on a hook! Back to when we paid less for our first car than we now days pay for one of those fancy offshore modern fishing poles!!!
Try to recall one of the first memorable time you went fishing with your dad and actually caught fish that was bigger than the bait you were using. Remember the feel of adrenal rushing through your body while you fought that monstrous red to the boat. And how fast your heart was pounding in your chest while you struggled to hold it up while your Father fiddled with the camera to get that once in life time picture of your first fish, all the while cutting off the top of your head in the frame as he snap the picture!! Or maybe it is the time you launched your first new boat, with that goofy grin on your face as you created chaos around the boat launch trying to maneuver your way back to the dock. With that great feeling of some luxury liner captain in your oversized dingy, all the while looking more like the captain of the Titanic, thank goodness there were no icebergs nearby!!!
These are some of the long forgotten experiences I hope to instill in you this coming season to help bring back some of those feeling we have all lost over all those years of catching those oversized stringer of fish. To look through fresh eyes when we land that 31 inch speck this spring and notice just how superb a specimen of nature he is. And hopefully release him back to the water from where he came to fight another day!! To feel that forgotten rush of adrenalin when your fighting that bull red this coming spring, hopefully not getting too excited though cause now you may end with a heart attack instead that feeling of accomplishment. But never fear cause your dad if he is with you should be able to get all of you in the picture frame by now with all his experience at taking picture with your catches!!!
And with one final thought to leave you with before you begin this 97 fishing season, is that sometime just making the effort can make a lasting memory. This is a true story some of the names have been changed to protect the deranged. It was the maiden voyage of a 25 ft. ChrisCraft that my soon to be fishing partners had spent weeks restoring to her former self. We had spent months rewiring the electrical, took off all the teak and refinished it, and rebuilding the motor. Which in hind site we should have spent a little longer in doing. The fishing equipment was loaded, the gas tank filled to capacity, hundreds of dollars worth of all sorts of bait bought, and cases of beer stored for this long awaited fishing trip. The plan was to catch every ling, king, dolphin, snapper and living fish in a 50 mile radius of Galveston Island that fateful day. Compass heading were taken and checked and rechecked. Our fishing destinations were carefully calculated for the most efficient gas mileage while covering the most waters. And we set sails to the ultimate fishing expedition that had every been launched from Texas shores!! Unfortunately there were some pretty big waves that day, some even reaching the some two foot plus variety. Some 20 miles off while trolling some uncharted debris for Kings, is when we discovered how inept of boat mechanics we really were. So the next four hours were spent drinking beer, cussing over a 20 year old engine, semi-fishing for anything that would commit suicide on our dangling hooks, and chumming for bait fish!!! All the while the theme from Gilligan's Island could be hear humming in the background by those of us still able to do so!! And although there was as much chance of us depleting that year king supply from the gulf as there was running out of beer from our well stock ice chest!! We finally managed to troll back to Galveston Bay under our own power an accomplishment we all took pride in!!!
So just keep this thought in mind on those days when nothing is going right. When that annoying angler next to you is hauling in trout, reds, and drum one after another, and you feel fortunate enough to hang an occasional dogfish once in awhile. No matter how bad it seems, when you look back even the worst of days out on the water is better than spending a day of doing the old yard work. And you never know when one of those miserable days turn into a lasting memory. Especially when youngun's are involved. They thank goodness have not yet learned that you are suppose to load up on fish every time you launch the boat!!!