A Boy's First Fish

[shaunsquid]

A couple other threads made me think of this story, and I figured you guys would appreciate it. I would also love to hear similar stories from you guys.

There is nothing in the world like seeing a kid catch their first fish or even a kid simply catching a fish. I don't have any of my own (thankfully), but that doesn't mean I have missed on being part of that experience.

About 4 years ago, I was camping on the coast of Malibu with a ton of friends. It was pretty standard 20 something party marathon on the coast. I was the only one who brought a fishing pole. I went down to the beach, rigged up a with a leader consisting of three size 8 hooks and a 4 ounce weight at the bottom. I threw a few chunks of squid on the hooks and let her rip. I live in the Sacramento valley and do not have a lot of experience ocean fishing. I had no idea what I was doing but I got lucky and started pulling in what I think were ling cod. I probably caught a half dozen of them, and threw them back. A few buddies joined we and sat drinking beers and hanging out.

About an hour later, a family shows up down the shore a little ways. I see the dad rig up a nightcrawler with a couple split shot for his 6 year old son and leave him to it. I watch the kid for about 20 minutes, not catching a damn thing while I am still pulling in a fish every other cast. I whistle at the kid and tell him to come over for a second. I snip off his rig, and set him up with what I was using and say "Okay, see those little waves rolling in? Wait for one to roll back and run out really fast, cast as FAR as you can, then come back to shore and wait."

I go about my fishing and 10 minutes later I hear "DAD DAD DAD!!!! LOOK WHAT I GOT!!!!!" I look over to see this six year old boy sprinting full speed towards his family, pole over his shoulder, dragging a 6 inch cod across the beach. I know, I know...poor fish. But man......nothing like seeing a kid get excited about a fish to take you back to the moment that you yourself got hooked.

I have a few others, but that was my favorite. Who else has one?

---------- Post added at 11:25 AM ---------- Previous post was at 11:20 AM ----------

Almost forgot, the dad came over and tried to slip me a $20 for helping his kid catch the fish. Couldn't help but laugh at him. I told him that seeing his boy catch that fish was worth $1000 to me and I wouldn't take a penny from him. Just hope that the dad took the hint and took his son fishing more.

 

[weiliwen]

There's a small pond very near my home that I fish sometimes after work for bluegill and the occasional bass. Last spring I was having one of those days where the fish bite on everything. A woman walked by with a baby in a stroller and a 4-year old walking beside her; they stop to watch me, and so I cast out, and handed the boy the rod to pull in the inevitable 'gill. Wow, the smile on his face was priceless. I cast out for about 10 minutes, handing him the rod to pull in the fish, probably nearly a dozen in all. When they left, he hugged me.

It's the little things that make life great.

 

[oldnewguy]

My son and grand kids live in Oregon. Hanah is 10 and Oscar is 6. They have never even had a rod in their hands......that's going to change this June.

There is a stocked trout pond in Bend and WE ARE GOING FISHING!!!!

You bet I'm going to have a camera and a smile from ear to ear.

Tight lines,

Joe

 

[shaunsquid]

My son and grand kids live in Oregon. Hanah is 10 and Oscar is 6. They have never even had a rod in their hands......that's going to change this June.

There is a stocked trout pond in Bend and WE ARE GOING FISHING!!!!

You bet I'm going to have a camera and a smile from ear to ear.

Tight lines,

Joe

I will never forget hooking into a bass on a little batman rod with my Dad at the pond near my house growing up. My dad wont either. Keep that camera handy and make sure to share with us.

 

[mridenour]

Some of my best fishing memories are those fishing with my grandpa. He taught me about fly fishing but most of our fishing was more relaxed and lazy. We'd pack the cooler and a couple of old lawn chairs out to a forgotten pond out in an overgrown pasture on an abandoned farm. He'd be lugging the heavy stuff and I'd carry the tackle box and some poles and a coffee can full of worms.

We'd sit and swig Royal Crown and eat sandwiches with the lovely smell of stink bait wafting through the air while we waited for a bite. Some days there weren't many bites but every single time I loved being out there in the shade with Grandpa. He made me laugh and I am sad that I'm not just a little more like him.

I take a few days every year to sit on the bank of a lake in lawn chairs with my family, stocking up the freezer for the annual fish fry with catfish. I imagine myself still much slower skinning one of those than he was but in reality, I probably do it just about like he did. I'd never dare to place myself as his equal.

Seeing him smile at me after I landed a big one...or one that could qualify as bait, holds a high place in my mind filled with memories of fishing.

We were fishing one day at a lake and there was a guy with a bunch of kids fishing on the far side from us. The kids were doing a good job fishing, well, all except one. That kid was aggravating everyone. His dad would tell him over and over to go watch his pole.

Finally the kid started wandering around looking for something and we could hear his voice as it carried across the water. "Dad, I have a bad question."

"Son, what now?"

"Where's my pole?"

"I told you....."

Me and Grandpa laughed about that day a lot of times over the years. One of us would pipe up out of the clear blue, "I got a bad question." The laughs would ensue without another word being said as we replayed the events of that day over again in our heads.

I'll stop typing again. Most of you that are reading this are probably thinking, "Why did I read all of this?" LOL!

 

[busbus]

I have one. I wrote this to the forum a while back. I think I can just make a URL to point to it. If it does not come thru, I will just do it the old-fashioned way and use a cut-and-paste.

When you read this, you will see the "kid" in the story was 22-years-old at the time. But i suspect that when I am in my 90s and he is in his 60s, I will still be calling him a "kid."

His first two


He is "almost" a special needs kid. Not really. He will be fine, in the long run. He will just have to work at things harder than anybody else around him the rest of his life. I was so, so happy that day he asked to go. He has asked a couple other times since then but this particular day will live forever in my mind.



ray

---------- Post added at 02:35 PM ---------- Previous post was at 02:28 PM ----------

Some of my best fishing memories are those fishing with my grandpa. He taught me about fly fishing but most of our fishing was more relaxed and lazy. We'd pack the cooler and a couple of old lawn chairs out to a forgotten pond out in an overgrown pasture on an abandoned farm. He'd be lugging the heavy stuff and I'd carry the tackle box and some poles and a coffee can full of worms.

We'd sit and swig Royal Crown and eat sandwiches with the lovely smell of stink bait wafting through the air while we waited for a bite. Some days there weren't many bites but every single time I loved being out there in the shade with Grandpa. He made me laugh and I am sad that I'm not just a little more like him.

I take a few days every year to sit on the bank of a lake in lawn chairs with my family, stocking up the freezer for the annual fish fry with catfish. I imagine myself still much slower skinning one of those than he was but in reality, I probably do it just about like he did. I'd never dare to place myself as his equal.

Seeing him smile at me after I landed a big one...or one that could qualify as bait, holds a high place in my mind filled with memories of fishing.

We were fishing one day at a lake and there was a guy with a bunch of kids fishing on the far side from us. The kids were doing a good job fishing, well, all except one. That kid was aggravating everyone. His dad would tell him over and over to go watch his pole.

Finally the kid started wandering around looking for something and we could hear his voice as it carried across the water. "Dad, I have a bad question."

"Son, what now?"

"Where's my pole?"

"I told you....."

Me and Grandpa laughed about that day a lot of times over the years. One of us would pipe up out of the clear blue, "I got a bad question." The laughs would ensue without another word being said as we replayed the events of that day over again in our heads.

I'll stop typing again. Most of you that are reading this are probably thinking, "Why did I read all of this?" LOL!

I have a bad question, Mike: How did you learn to write so well?

There are a few people on this forum (Ard, Jerry, you, and several others) who are such incredibly gifted writers that I feel ashamed even attempting to post things at times. You guys can cause a tug at your heart or explain complex things in such a simplistic manner.

I am envious.


ray

 

[Rip Tide]

I was fishing out on a reef one night not far from a father with 2 sons fishing the beach
The older boy was probably 8 or 9 and the younger 6.
The older boy hooks into a good sized striped bass so the dad had his hands full coaching him in fighting and landing the fish
Of course no one but me is watching the little kid fighting a big fish of his own and getting pulled out to sea.
I finally got the dads attention and he came to the rescue just before the kid got towed out towards France.
To his credit, the little guy never did let go of the rod and he did eventually land the fish. Soaked head to toe
It was pretty funny actually

 

[mridenour]

I have a bad question, Mike: How did you learn to write so well?

There are a few people on this forum (Ard, Jerry, you, and several others) who are such incredibly gifted writers that I feel ashamed even attempting to post things at times. You guys can cause a tug at your heart or explain complex things in such a simplistic manner.

I am envious.


ray

Started to reply to this but instead sent you a PM so as not to hi-jack the thread.

 

[cpowell]

I have been blessed ten fold more than I deserve with the kids I have, both my own and my 3 step kids.

Ford and Will, 12 and 8 respectively have become fine little anglers. If you know me or follow what I post you know who and what they are.

To see them catch their first fish or as stated..any fish for that matter makes me so full of joy inside I could burst.

Watching Jake, my eldest teach them as they grew was a reward I never deserved and will never forget. Jake of course has become one of the finest fly anglers and fishery biologists/entomologists you could imagine and his desire to learn and most importantly share what he knows has become one of the brightest lights in my life.

We fish a lot in our local ponds that have a mixed bag of catchable fish. I do not know why or what motivates their decisions but many times kids will run up from the park and watch them...They will watch them cast, hook and reel in a few fish and the visiting kids get more and more excited as they watch.

One day a few kids come up and they were being very respectful and Ford is answering some questions and then says, here you want to give it a try...to a perfect stranger. You can imagine the response and within a few minutes I watched Fordman teach this young girl how to cast and then how to raise and lower the rod tip to manage the line and before you know it he is coaching her on how to land and release her first fish, let alone it was on a fly.

They have since done this on many occasions, now Will is doing the same thing and the joy that it brings me is almost indescribable.

Not a day goes by where I do not think about how the outdoors and fly fishing teaches us so much about being better people, learning how to share and teaching others provides a reward to oneself that cannot be bought.

I could write on this topic all night but I have to leave the office to head home. Sorry for the quick rambling...Happy Friday!

 

[shaunsquid]

Finally the kid started wandering around looking for something and we could hear his voice as it carried across the water. "Dad, I have a bad question."

"Son, what now?"

"Where's my pole?"

"I told you....."

I just spit coffee. Thank you.