If you Could Have the Fishing Moment Back Again

[misfish]

Let's see...I was born in 1936 so I'm guessing this was in 1946 or thereabouts...Every summer I was sent down to the family farm near Port Perry...After a good rain , I picked a whole bunch of dew worms so my grandad had me sew two "bobs" (25 worms sewn together lengthwise with a long needle then tied into a ball)...That evening was the first time I ever caught catfish without a hook...as soon as you felt a bite you lifted your 4 foot line on a six foot bamboo pole and swung the fish into the old wooden boat and into a large washtub sitting on the floor between us...as soon as the fish touched anything it would open it's mouth and drop off...We left the fish in a "live box" near shore and would retrieve as many as we needed for a meal anytime we wanted...

 

I have many memories of fishing or just being with my grandad back in those days...Too bad I didn't own a camera...

 

 

 

Thanks for that Norm.

[Tom McCutcheon]

My best memory is when I became hooked. It was back in the mid 50's when I was about 6 or 7 years old. I was staying at my Granny's for the summer and my Uncle Jack and one of his freinds were going fishing and asked if I wanted to go. I said OK but I needed a pole. No problem. They gave me Gramps old 4 foot steel pole and an old level wind with dacron line. We went out to a country road and parked near a bridge. My Uncle set me up with a hook and worm with a red and white bobber and said " just sit here on the bridge and let the hook float under the bridge" they then set off upstream through the bush. It wasn't very long when I felt a tug on the line and started to pull in the line. I also started yelling and screaming. The next thing I know is my Uncle and his freind are crashing back downstream through the brush and water to see what all the commotion is. They arrive back to see me standing on the edge of the bridge and road with a fish of about 10 inches hanging from the end of my rod. Uncle Jack says that's a beauty trout and shakes my hand. We take it home to Granny's and she shows me how to clean it. She then showed me how to fry it in butter and so as to not waste anything Jack says "don't forget the tail. Make sure there is lots of butter and salt on that. Tastes just like a potatoe chip."

And it did.

I was talking to my Uncle Jack last summer and reminded him of the story and it brought a big smile to his face. He is almost 80 and I will turn 60 this spring. I have loved fishing for over 50 years thanks to him. I wish I still had that old rod and reel.

 

Tom.

[NAC]

My first trout for sure!

My Dad had taken me out on several occassions to inagurate me to small stream brookie fishing close to our rural home near Wingham. I wore his patience thin on many of those trips.

It was myself, older brother, Dad and his buddy on this trip... all experienced brookie anglers. After only several minutes of hiking into heavy bush, I was already getting the death stare from my old man, the hard .

"ur never gonna get anything makin that racket u dumb , and either will we!"

 

I was workin all the thickly covered undercuts that those sods were to big to get into, cause I was just a skinny nine year old and they were men. I hadn't caught anything after a few hours, but they each had got some pan size eaters. My Dad turns to me and snarls " get the over here and watch what I'm doing." He hands me his great little custom creek rig.... a nice old mitchell reel he'd put on a fibreglass rod, sawed back to the last eye... cause that's what you used back then. I took it cautiously from him and snaked the big dew worm under a huge fallen trunk spanning the creek with a large undercut bank and a lightly foamed eddy on the opposite side. "You won't get anything there, cause I just worked it. But that 's where they hide, so try it anyway", my Dad whispers. The dew worm gets sucked and the eddy side of the log by the current and I gently pulled it back, "thinking he didn't get anything so I won't either". Next attempt, I open the bail as it passed under the log and gave it a second before I reeled it back. BAM!

Without hesitation, I yanked it right out from under the log and up onto the bank behind me. I sprinted over to where it landed to see a beautiful 16" brookie(coulda been 14" ) wrything in the grass and gurgling for freedom. I picked it up, examined it, removed the hook and slipped it back into the hole it came from. As I turned looking for approval from my old man, I was greeted by three sets of piercing eyeballs and a look despair on my Dad's face.

 

That was it, I was a brookie chaser for the next 15 yrs and my father and I never spoke of it again until I was about 30 and we remenisced old fishing memories.... I said to him "do you know when it was the I really got hooked on fishing"? He turned to me and said, " I remember an adolescent dumb that pulled a 16" brookie out of a hole I'd just worked for twenty miuntes and then released it", he said with an ear to ear grin on his face.

 

Sorry for the long winded story(best as I recall it), and that's actually two moments I wish I could have back but will never forget.

 

great topic BTW!

[misfish]

Great stories Tom and Nomad.

[bigugli]

Every story from first to last was a great story. Thanks all for sharing a bit of yourselves.

[DogBoat]

Wow, Lots. Sorry I don't post much, but I read lots of posts. I would love to relive all of these memories again.

 

- Fishing rod propped over a tacke box as a rest, that ended up swimming when a carp took the bait as the dog walked by it. We still blame the dog for that (going back 35 years, with my dad).

- fishing the "St Catharines Catfish Derby", in it's early years, and stringing numerous rods along the Lake Ontario shore line, near an outflow, propped in the sand, to catch carp using home-made dough balls made with jello and cornmeal, etc (30 years ago).

- Hitting the local pier at lunch breaks on bikes, at grade school, to fish for a few minutes until having to return to class (in my youth).

- Hitting the Saugeen and Sauble rivers, etc - trout fishing (learning to fly fish) - opening weekend (with dad, and the occasional truck problems - we had no clue what we were doing in those days - still don't <g>)

- Fishing salmon with my dad in his boat, in the fall off of Bronte, and watching one salmon leap into the air to snatch a monarch butterfly (none caught - never a clue what we were doing...).

- family vacations at various places, with many "memories" engraved.

- Buying and building the northern moose camp with inadiquate boats and equipment (read: *many* mistakes - water access only) and learning to fish those waters - got it done, and some 40+ inch pike released this last year, and moose harvested.

- Good times speckie and laker and bass fishing with friends around the deer camp spanning all seasons.

- deer camp refit memories, etc (it happend here, it stays here...)

 

There are many more events that occurred, that I would love to re-live. Cherish the moments as they occur, even if imperfect, as they will build memories that will be remembered forever.

 

Keep living the memories.

 

.. Brian

[Sinker]

I'm not sure of my age when this happened, but I couldn't have been older than 10. Me and my brother(5 years younger than me) were just casting off the dock. We never really caught much, we just liked to cast. There was a jug out there that we would try and cast to.......kinda like a distance casting competition. We'd go thru the old mans tackle box, and get the biggest, heaviest lure we could find, and just chuck it out as far as we could. I always got the title for the longest cast.

 

So, one year, we're out doing the distance cast thing off the dock. I always did best with a big old rusty 5 of diamonds spoon. This time, my brother got his hands on it first. I was a little mad, but I let him keep it. So, here we are casting as far as we could, then reeling it in as fast as we could, so we could cast again. It wasn't about catching a fish......we never did anyways. So my brother lets a good long cast fly.......he almost got it to the jug. I will admit, I was quite impressed with that cast. He goes to reel reel in, and nothing will budge. He says, there's something wrong with my reel. It was an old Mitchell 300. I look over, and his rod is bent right over......he's looking at the reel. I said, your snagged dumbass.......now your going to lose my lucky spoon!! Just at that moment, the reel starts screaming. We both looked at each other in total disbelief. Now I'm getting a little excited, and wanted him to give me the rod......yeah right.....that's not happening. He's got his tongue hanging out of his mouth, rad jammed into his belly, and he's reeling against the drag like a mad man......I'll never forget that moment and the determination in his face.

 

By now, we've drawn quite the audience. There is an old guy that comes running with a net, who is now coaching him on what to do. Well, wouldn't you know it, he ends up landing this HUGE pike. The old fella nets it, we get it up on the dock, get the hooks out, and the old guy says "Are ya gunna keep it? You should really let that one go." There was no chance he was letting it go......it was his biggest fish ever, and we just had to show Dad this fish. We put it on a piece of rope, and dragged that sucker up the hill to the campsite. When my dad saw us coming, he didn't know what to think. It measured 42", and had a 2lb smallie in its belly. It was FAT!! We filleted it up, and had a huge fish fry with it.....LOL. I think we fed the whole park with that fish.

 

Now, If I had that moment back, I would have taken my spoon off that little brat in the first place, and that pike would have been mine!!!! We still talk about that fish everytime we get together.

 

Sinker

[Cudz]

The one that got away..

I was living in Australia back in 1995 and was travelling up the gold coast. Decided to camp in a town called Noosa. Beautiful place so i decided to stay a few more days. At the campground I met a guy who had a boat and asked me if I would go fishing with him. Of course I went with my trusty 7' spinning rod and reel, loaded with 12 pound test.

We were fishing in about 80 ft of water using dead 5" pilchards and catching everything from small sharks to eels and a bunch of other fish I had never seen before. It was great. After fishing for about an hour I feel another bite. immediately I set the hook and fell what I thought was another 2-4 pound fish. It wasn't fighting very hard and I wasn't even sure if it was still on. I start looking down into the water to see if I could see the fish coming up when all of a sudden the water erupted about 5ft away from the boat. Talk about scary!

I had hooked a marlin 80ft below the surface and as soon as he realized he had been hooked he headed for the surface.

 

Now this next part happened really fast so it is all a bit sketchy. The fish jumped straight out of the water about 10-15 ft in the air. I estimate (remember this happened in a blurr) the fish to be about 8-10ft long. From the time the fish made its first jump to the time it stripped all 250 yrds of 12 pound test line off my reel, the fish stayed out of the water on the surface, tailwalking and slapping its body against the water surface. The fish managed to spool me in about 10 seconds and the drag on my reel never worked properly after that. Incredible size and power. What a thrill to hook into something like that. I would love to actually catch a fish of that size someday but not on a 7' medium action rod and not with 12 pound test.

 

Wish I had a camera handy. It just happened way too fast though

[anders]

these are great stories....thanks for sharing them all

[Spiel]

How about the one I wouldn't want to relive.

 

It was back in the mid 80's when small boat trolling off the Hamilton Beach Strip was in it's hay day. A co-worker (Wayne) who fished very little wanted to try and catch his first salmon/trout so I offered to take him out on the big lake.

 

So early one morning we dragged the little 12' tinny over the beach the lake was like glass and the fog was thick! I had a feeling the fishing would be hot and it was. We had caught a mixed bag of fish and all was going well till I hooked a decent spring king. Fought it out and got her boatside when Wayne went for the net, I said "no no don't net it, I'm releasing it and the lures free trebles (chartreuse J-13) will just entangle the net". So I lean over the gunnel and procede to try and twist out the one tail hook that holds her from freedom. Thats when she bolted upward impaling one of the free hooks deep into the flesh of my upper left thumb......

 

Now Wayne is panicking, he's asking me what should he do? Well, I have a 15lb king attached to my thumb via a hook and all it wants to do is get to the bottom of the lake, so obviously I'm also thinking what the hell am I going to do? I tell Wayne don't net it! I'm sure that having it twist around in the net is just begging for more pain so I have him retrieve the small billy for me. Once I have the billy in hand I lift the big girl from the water by the hook imbedded in my thumb and procede to bash the poor girls skull into oblivion in order to stop the thrashing which is causing me considerable pain. Wayne is now near as white as Casper (puppy) but he nearly faints when I pull the hook straight out of my thumb with the pliers, bandage it up, start the motor and begin trolling again. The fish were hot that day and I wasn't about to leave.

 

I can honestly say I never, never want to be attached to a large lively spring king by a hook ever again.

[BillM]

Great thread!!! I have had a few awesome fishing moments, that's sure. I actually had one yesterday, lol

 

One of my most memorable was on the French River as a kid (Dry Pine Bay). I got up at the crack of dawn, got some worms out of the worm box hidden under the RV and went down to the dock. We had rented a canoe for whatever reason that year, I guess for us kids to mess around with. I'm sitting in the canoe catching sunfish, perch and having a great old time. I still don't know what possessed me to, but I turned around and saw the biggest musky I've ever laid eyes on swimming out of the shallows towards me and my canoe. Definitely one of the famed monsters the French River is known for. I turn back around and lowered my worm down, hoping and praying that this giant fish takes my tiny offering...

 

A few second later I see this monster not 4-5 inches under the canoe, engulfing my worm and slowly swimming off under the dock. It was like he didn't even know he was hooked. It didn't change speeds, it didn't headshake, it just continued on. My reel was screaming and I was holding on for dear life. After 10-15seconds of reel screaming mayhem, I hear....Ding!....only to look down and see that I've been spooled. I just sat there in the canoe, my heart pounding trying to recollect what just had happened. All by myself n the canoe with no one around to witness the event...

 

I'm not going to make any claims of a world record fish, but this thing was half the size of our 12ft canoe. It was as thick as a tree trunk. I still can close my eyes and picture that fish coming towards me, my rod bending towards and under the dock and that ever familiar 'ding' sound when my reel had been spooled.

 

This is most likely the reason why the French River is my absolutely favourite place to fish.. When I kick the bucket, that will be my last resting place (On the bottom with the fishes )

[danc]

I have a few memorable moments that I'd like to have a second chance at. But a very recent one tops my list for now. Unfortunately it's not a very exciting story, unless you happen to be me. And my fishing partner at the time, a guy by the name of Irishfield, certainly doesn't know how much this moment bothers me to this day, as I nonchalantly let it go. Anyways, Wayne and I were battling heavy seas on Lake Nipigon in search of Brook Trout. We were about 8 miles out from camp, which is probably about 5 miles further than we should have been considering the weather and the fact that we may not see anyone else out there for a few days if we should run into trouble. We arrived at a rocky point that rarely produces, but when it does, it usually pays off off with a trophy sized fish. Seconds after I cast my jig fly into the water, I had a hit and set the hook. Wow. This is a big fish, I thought to myself. Between trying to maneuver the boat and hanging on to the fish, my 6 lb. test snapped about 10 seconds into the battle. It was my own fault. That is why I'd like to have a second chance at this fish. It could have been a big Laker, or a big Pike. But it could have been the Brook Trout of my dreams as well. I don't mind losing a fish now and then, but when I don't get a look at it, it bothers me forever.

 

The rocky point is just over Waynes right shoulder.

 

 

 

Same location, photographed by my buddy Spiel a couple of years earlier.

 

[Leecher]

Great thread, love it…. so many memories

 

Here is mine, my first big gator….. It’s a long story but worth the read and wish I had a net and camera back then....

 

It was back in 1977, July 1st long weekend. Dad had been invited to a friends cottage and as soon as we arrived that morning, I ask dad to open the trunk of the car, grabbed his tackle box and rod (cause back then I didn’t own one) and the way I went to the lake for some shore fishing Spent the better part of the day there, caught a few fish and got back to the cottage for supper.

 

After supper Pierre (9 year old son of dad’s friend) wanted to go for some late night cats so we gathered the gear and the way we went. By that time, day light was diminishing real fast, got a fire going so that we could see our lines but most importantly attract the cats.

 

Since it was Pierre’s first time going for cats and dad had shown me how, was my turn to be the teacher. Showed him how to setup the line, hooks, sinkers and all. Told him that when you see the tip of the rod move, to set the hook and reel in. Well Pierre did that on every hit he got and at some point I told him to wait before setting the hook….. I could see the tip move and knew it was a fish nibbling at the worm…. Then all of sudden his rod bends in half and almost ends up in the drink but Pierre was fast enough to react and grab the handle, set the hook and fight this fish. He ended up catching a pike that had a bluegill in his mouth. I released the pike and then the bluegill and surprisingly unharmed. Just could not believe this one.

 

The next day, we had access to an old wooden boat and wanted to try early morning bite. We woke up at 5:00am and headed out. Didn’t have a motor so I paddled out across the bay to a spot. Started fishing and caught a few cats then the bite slowed down. At around 6:45am I said to Pierre that we should go back to the cottage, have breakfast then come back but he replied that he wanted to go to the red boat house at the other end of the lake that was about 500 meters away and that he would paddle. So I said DEAL.

 

He proceeded to paddle his way over, I tied on a red devil spoon and cast it behind the boat and set the rod down. Then all of sudden BAM the rod bends in two and yell to Pierre “ STOP… STOP…. BACKUP I’M STUCK IN THE WEEDS “ at least I thought I was, he starts to paddle backwards and then feel a headshake…. I yell to Pierre “NOT STUCK IT’S A FISH AND GOOD ONE”. When the boat got over top to where the fish was, I looked over into the water and could not see the fish. The line was straight down and the fish was under the weeds keeping bottom. I immediately grabbed the line (20Lbs Stren Original), set the rod down and started to pull it up by hand…. (This is when I wish I had a net) Got it over the boat and the tail hit the side of the boat got unhooked and fell in to the bottom of the boat

 

I don’t know about you guys but at this point I was shaking and so excited…. Looking over to Pierre, his eyes grew so big looking at the beast, he immediately started to paddle towards shore. Got there in a record time Left everything in the boat except the pike and went to the cottage. Now this was at around 7:30am, everyone is still sleeping, I walk into the kitchen and the pike twitched and dropped him on the floor. Needless to say everyone got up to find out what the commotion was. Dad measured it and this beast was 47” long. Don’t know how it weighed (did not have a scale) but all I know is that it was a bigun.

 

When it came time to wash my hands, my right hand little finger hurt a lot so I looked and was cut to the bone from pulling on the line.

 

This is a moment that I will never forget cause July 1st 1977 was my birthday and turned 14 that morning.

[River Rat]

good post, makes you think.

 

I have had many banner days that stick out right away when I think back but I keep going back to my first trip into Lingham lake with my dad when I was 8 years old. Me and him in the canoe for 4 days. Real roughing it.....we brought a tent but only used it one time. We only brought in beans, lard and coffee (and whatever else the old man was drinking back then).....we spent the mid day catching frogs and caught a bass on every cast. Jitterbugs and rapalas ar the only lures we had. I have gone back every year since then and I am now 37.

 

That was when the obsession with fishing really started for me. The island where we stayed the first time is also where my father has asked me to put his ashes after he passes.

 

I think I'll call him.

 

RR

[vance]

45 years ago my dad and I went to a small back lake that was suppose to be a sure fire trophy lake.After 4 hours without so much as a look see we are laying across the front and rear seats of the boat almost asleep when the DEVIL made me ask my dad if there were any brothers or sisters that I didn't know about.His reaction was so dramatic I started to laugh and choke and turned to look over the side of the boat to see a 10 inch wide tail dive to the bottom of the lake.An hour later in the same near sleeping state I see the old boys line just off my left ear and reached up and gave it a big YANK.I NEVER knew he could be up and reeling so fast the man had lighting reflexes.As we were putting the boat on the trailer he says to me "time for pay backs" and I got your number.Never caught a fish BUT traded paybacks for all of those years and loved it and passed it down to my son.

 

vance

[GBW]

wow, i have only gone through the 1st page so far; yet I feel the need to say thank you to all that have posted! I hope this thread get's pinned for all to read and add to...

[tknohpy]

I agree, we almost have the makings for a good book!

 

For me it would be culvert hopping with my Grandpa around Halton Hills. We would go out in the backyard on the Friday night after dark picking dew worms. Then up at the crack of dawn Saturday morning and off we would go to hit all the little bridges running over any little stream. Down the bank and cast under the bridge, ususally with a small Mepps and a worm. Didn't catch any big trophy fish but sure loved taking the little ones home that Nan would fry up for us.

 

I lost my Grandpa when I was 7, he was 52. Sure wish he had stayed around a little longer.

[musky_man]

I am glad that everyone is enjoying htis tread as much as I am.

 

I am 54 now -- be 55 in August and as you can well imagine, I have fished for most of those years and have had many great experiences ... so I thought I'd share a few more. Some are no more than fragments of memories while others are as vivid today as they were back then.

 

First fishing equipment ... many years ago - the old timers will remember -- there was a sports store called Hicks Sporting Goods on Kingston Road in Scarborough. Dad knew that my bothers and I loved fishing and one day he piled us into the car and we started on our way. We did not know that Hicks was the first stop -- but the car pulled in and out we all got.. We thought we were just going to buy worms, but he took us to the rod and reel area and bought us each our first rod and reel. I can still see the green fiberglass and the camouflaged line. They were 3 bucks each, but back in 1959-60 that was a lot of money for a guy who was probably earning 40--50 bucks/week. We proceeded to a friend's place -- I still remember his name was Mr. Coady and he lived with his family on the Rouge river. There we would sit for hours catching rock bass, suckers, catfish and the odd largemouth ... wish I still had the rod and reel, but it is long gone.

 

To the next one ... about 1971 - we are up at the family cottage with my brother, Paul, who had brought his girlfriend Collene. At the time I had an old 16-foot Ross cedar strip with a 35 Merc. We decided that we would all go fishing -- now Colleen was not the fishing type -- she was a very sweet 16-year old who wanted to catch a few rays and have some fun with the guys. Anyway, out we go down the river to one of our fav largemouth bass spots. I pulled the boat over; we anchored and started to fish. Now - I don't know if you know what a Ross strip looks like, but they have a very long front bow -- about 5-6 feet and it is all nice and shiny wood. Collene eyes that for sunbathing purposes and up she pulls herself to catch a few rays. She was wearing a halter top and a pair of short cut offs ... she got ensconced on the bow, face up to the sun. Fishing was slow, but we were all enjoying the peace and warmth of the sun. Suddenly one of us got a beauty fish on - can't remember if it was Paul, or me but all heck broke loose and we started to race around the boat. Of course, we gave Collene no warning and with the motion of us rocking the boat, she slid off the bow like a kid at the Canada's Wonderland slide. She was not a good swimmer and hated weeds ... not a good thing. Luckily, we're only in about 3-4 feet of water. Nevertheless, she was panicky but finally swished her way to the surface, glasses dangling off of one ear, soaking wet but none the worse for wear. Once she realized she could stand, her panick subsided. Needless to say, that was her last time sun bathing on that boat deck!

 

1979 ... my brother and I stated out as multi-species guys but over the years gradually moved to musky only. Neither of us, up to that point, had caught a decent size musky, but we both had caught some. Again - up at the family cottage in early September ... me, brother and dad are up fishing and trolling in the river for musky. We were going by one of the better spots when a nice musky came up and took a swipe at my brother's bucktail. Got a good look at it and it was in the 40 inch range, fat and had a beautiful silvery hue. Not a big fish by most standards now, but was decent fish nevertheless. Well, despite several more passes, she was not to be had. Fast forward to exactly one week later ... dad and I wanted to go to the movies, but I said "lets fish for an hours first" then go. I coaxed dad to accompany me (back then, we did not know it, but my dad was bipolar and he was in a bit of a depressive state ... today, at 85, he is doing well). Out we go and after about 50 minutes dad says we have to go because we'll miss the show. One more pass I said ... well of course, I know you all know by now that this was the pass that she hit my strawberry swim whiz ... had a great 10 minute fight … dad manned the net and after a few swipes she was had. "Valhalla", I shouted ...that was the cry that my brother and I made up for the time that one of us got the first decent musky ... so in the boat we are and on our way home. I remember going down the river shouting Valhalla ... cottagers thought we were nuts, but neither dad nor I cared. Of course as we approached our cottage, my brother was on the deck and I knew he would hear us -- he did, but thought it was a rouse until I lifted the net and showed off the fish HE almost caught a week earlier.

 

That is the only musky I have ever kept -- despite catching many 50+ fish in later years. Back then, places like Advance were not born yet. She is in the basment now, but will be going to the cottage my wife and I bought 2 years ago in the same area.

 

 

Last one … for now! 1995 - brother and I are in Ixtapa Mexico and we want to go deep sea fishing. We did not have a lot of spare $ and so we opted to go for one of those deals that the locals hawk along the beach. "Meet us at the shore, tomorrow the guide says". So - we were there as planned. Along they come, but no boat. "Where is the boat", I ask ... he points about 50 meters out in the surf to what looks like a row boat fromt he Titanic with a 60 HP Yami. We swim to the boat and out we go ... they had no landing privleges on the beach. Life jackets were so rotten that they would have been no good at all. Gas tank was a 20 gallon plastic carboy water jug.

 

First day with them we caught a beautiful wahoo and several other fish ... ended up on a beach at a BBQ and ate her. While that was all good, we were after Sailfish and while we had a great day, we did not see one. Paul and I decided to try again the next day. Same process as day one -- another beautifil day and out we swim. Day is progressing nicely ... all is quiet ... suddenly I see one of our guides jump up and get real excited. I am completely oblivious to what he sees, but after a few seconds I notice the tip of a sail about 40 feet behind the boat. Without missing a beat, he grabs my rod and sets it back hard and hands it back to me. Now I understand. He shouts to me to look at the fish ... I AM looking but I can’t see it. That was because in the time that he had grabbed the rod, set the hook -- no more than 2-3 seconds -- that fish and screamed off about 300 feet of line and was now tail walking in the surf 100 meters behind the boat. I had heard they could swim 100 KPH, but you never believe such things... now I do!! This thing was so incredibly fast it was mind-boggling. After about 20 minutes she was by the side of the boat. I had thought we would have let her go, but out comes the club and before I could say a word, it was all over. I learned that they would give it to the locals for food -- at least that was their story. Well ends up I had caught one of the largest Sails caught that year at 8 feet, 1 inch. She was 120 pounds.

 

One of the best parts of the story ... heading back in to the docks we had to pass all the big fancy boats where people had shelled out several hundred bucks each and had come up dry ... should have seen the looks on their faces when we putter by in our old scow, with this behemouth Sailfish in the boat ... was comical. Have a pic of the fish with by brother on the wall .. something I will always treasurer.

 

 

Hope you all enjoyed those as much as I did living them.

Edited March 28, 2009 by musky_man

[Tarzan's Jane]

Absolutely entertaining and heart warming....excellent thread

[pike slayer]

this is more of a short story with some memories in it. I have only been fishing for 4 years now. the first 2 years were basically write offs cause my guide was my buddy nate that only fished with his father and grandpa and they only fished for lake trout and walleye and only knowing one technique for both with one type of lure for each species really limited things and i really didnt know better. but i really have to thank my buddy Nate for taking me out and showing me the few skills he knew and catching me a couple fish, just enough to get the addiction going. So year 3 rolls around and our buddy Chris tells us of a camp his family owns that he has not been to since he was little and he remembers great fishing out there so nate, him and his great uncle do a trip out there for pike fishing and they do ok but not that great, so a couple weeks later they invite me to go and of course im up for it. We stop at canadian tire cause i havent pike fished before and i needed to stock up and nate brings me to the williams and hes like this is what we catch all our pike on so im like duhhhhh ok not knowing any better. so we go out there and we do ok but not that great. So its late october early november and Chris gives me a call and asks if i wanna go out to the camp with his other buddy nate and of course i was like sure and we plan early in the week to go that weekend. So im at work and im telling my foreman/ good family friend john that im going and hes like i gotta take you to crappy tire and get you stocked up! and im like nahhh i went already and i got a pile of williams, and hes like what!?! are you on drugs!?! you arent gonna do well with those! so that evening after work we go to crappy tire and he brings me straight to the rapala section and hands me a few xraps and hes like here these will out fish chris and nate x10. So that weekend we head out to camp and its cold! all the speck lakes are frozen over and we have to break ice for a couple hundred feet to get out onto the main lake. Chris takes me and nate to this shallow bay and we bobber fish from 9am-1pm and nate caught a 5lber and 7lber. and by this time its starting to snow and blow and get nasty out and chris is like screw this, lets go back to the camp and drink the sadness away haha!! and i was like wait, i want to troll down the lake to this shoal probably 1km away and back then we can head back and they agree. So i take the xrap out and i put it on my line and Chris is like what the heck are you doing? your not gonna catch a thing with that lure! and i was like just you wait, give it a chance. so we go troll down the lake and i hook into fish after fish getting 7-8 pike in the 5-10lb range by the time we ge to the rocky shoal. so chris is turning around the boat and as soon as the slack leaves my line it feels like i got a snag and im like stop guys i got a snag!! then i see my line going straight out into the lake and its buzzing out my line and im like THAT NO SNAG!! after a 30min battle with a 6foot rod with 10pound test with the pike spinning our little 12' tinner around many times the fish finally surfaces beside the boat and chris and nate have to double net the fish, one net on the head and another at the tail and drop it in the boat and i boot the crap out of this huge large fish! the pike was 48" long and it was the biggest fish that i ever caught at the time. that right there was the fish that really got me going with fishing. after that til this day i research, read, ask around, etc to get as much knowledge as possible about fishing. this past year we now go back catching over 60 pike in one day on of course xraps(thanks john) and i've moved into specks, walleye, bass, etc. and i now guide nate, chris, and other friends showing them what to use and where. i've pulled them out of their old ways and brought them to new lakes and introduced them to new lures and we now have tons of success and this past year we havent been skunked once and we have caught trophy pike, smallies, and specks. this is now into year 2 of actual successful fishing and i hope to learn more and catch more fish.

[JeffBornFishin]

Let's see...I was born in 1936 so I'm guessing this was in 1946 or thereabouts...Every summer I was sent down to the family farm near Port Perry...After a good rain , I picked a whole bunch of dew worms so my grandad had me sew two "bobs" (25 worms sewn together lengthwise with a long needle then tied into a ball)...That evening was the first time I ever caught catfish without a hook...as soon as you felt a bite you lifted your 4 foot line on a six foot bamboo pole and swung the fish into the old wooden boat and into a large washtub sitting on the floor between us...as soon as the fish touched anything it would open it's mouth and drop off...We left the fish in a "live box" near shore and would retrieve as many as we needed for a meal anytime we wanted...

 

I have many memories of fishing or just being with my grandad back in those days...Too bad I didn't own a camera...

 

 

Wow Beans thanks for that memory refresher When I was a kid my Grandfather used to tell me the exact same method of catching catfish on the Moira River.

 

Wonder if it still works?

 

There are too many fishing events for me to nail down just one but I vividly remember a trip to New Brunswick and shore fishing the Bay of Fundy.

[grt1]

reading these posts really got me thinking as to what I would like to have back the most and I think the one Iwould have loved to have captured on film involved my dad taking me to the Nith River outside Paris for Pike and walleye.

 

I was about 11 or 12 and I had worked for a while to save up to buy a Fleuger Limper (a siver walleye spoon) and as soon as my dad saw it he wanted to cast it out and give it a try. He put it on his line, wound up for the big cast and promptly snagged it on a tree branch 20 feet in the air behind him, he tried his hardest to get it out but finally broke his line and my new lure was lost without ever hitting the water.

 

Was i ever PO'd and angry at him.

 

When we got home I told my mom about dad's stealing and losing my lure and she just about peed herself laughing. needles to say I wasn't impressed.

 

When I look back at it now 50 some odd years later, it is my favourite memory of my dad and his fishing prowess.

 

I wish they had digital cameras and camcorders back then, I would love tosee him and this adventure again.

[ozaibak1]

Great post and great stories to read. For me, this one was real easy one memory stands out much more than any other, I have a good memory it seems like it just happened yesterday.

 

The second time I went 'real fishing', meaning with a group who could teach me, it was with a group of some of my closest friends who I didn't realize fished! I'm 26 now, this was about 4 years ago. We got up to Clear lake in the morning, launched from a rental place and headed to Stoney Lake in the Kawarthas.

 

We fished a bay between the junction of stoney and clear lakes, our first spot of the day. The weather was beautiful, the sun was shining. I'm fishing with a real worm. Well I toss it down, and wait a bit. That is when I caught my first ever bass, and first fish of the day!

 

It's hard to describe my exhiliration. This thing bit it, and swam straight up in 10 feet of water and launched out of the air! Its jump, the glistening of its skin against the sun, seemed to last for 10 seconds. It's still frozen in my mind. I couldn't believe it, my first bass! To top it off, the next cast I caught another, while my friends were having some trouble.

 

Those were the only 2 we caught in that first spot, and I got hooked into fishing much deeper than I already was! I don't think ANY future memory will top this one, unless it ends up involving family

[Angler16]

Got two im only 14 so i dont have too many yet but a lot to come im sure

First one was, my dad and i were fishing on nipissing and decided to go out into the open and fish for some walleye. So we geared up with a pink jig head and a worm,dropped down about 24 ft to the bottom till our lined stopped so we knew we were fishing the complete bottom. Thats when i felt a huge tug on the end of my line, i said holy crap out of excitement and started reeling like mad!. Ill never forget my dad coaching me,"alright bud let some line out let it run, let it run bud, relax,relax. Ok good now reel a bit, good good, loosen your drag bud, let it run. REEEL. REEEL. (REPEATED STEPS for the whole time) Finally got a glimpse of the fish looked like a over grown godzilla bass. I said that cant be right! we are fishing in deep water not too many bass out here!I reeled some more,pulled up a 10 lbs 28 inch sheepshead. And with dads accurate net work netted er and got a pic and back in she went!

 

The second memory was in the same trip!

Sitting there with dad fishing a nice pocket with vegetation, using a pink jig head and a worm dropping down once again even in the weeds, and even casting here and there. I remember dropping my line. Then feeling a tap tap,tap tap tap tap, TAP. I said GOT ONE! dad rushed over with net in hand.The thing jumped and fliped then jumpe almost a half a foot to a foot into the air. Got it to the surface it was the PB bass i was hoping for. Netted it, turned out to be about 3.5 lbs and about 16-18 inches!

Great times!

One of the best trips ever.

 

Great stories everyone you gave me about 20 minutes of silent reading!

 

Little Angler

[Spiel]

Same location, photographed by my buddy Spiel a couple of years earlier.

 

 

 

Now that was an epic trip! Not a day goes by Dan when I'm not somehow thinking 'bout betting back up there.