My son recently decided that he wants to be a fisherman. Living at the coast, this should not be a problem - it seems as if everyone fishes down here. But in reality, the fact that everyone fishes here IS a problem.
Most of his friends who fish have fathers and uncles and brothers who have fished their entire lives. These kids have multiple fishing rods, tackle boxes filled with hooks and lures, and access to different boats that can take them in the marsh or forty miles offshore. For a thirteen year old who has just discovered the joy of fishing, this can create quite a conundrum. In short, my son wants it all and he wants it now!
I am grateful for the friends we have that have taken him out fishing in their boats. You have probably gathered by now that I am not much of an angler. My family vacationed every summer at Long Beach, NC (now known as Oak Island) and my dad did teach my brothers and I how to surf fish. I can remember summers when the pompano were running and we couldn’t reel them in fast enough. Or the times we might get lucky enough to hook a blue that we were convinced gave us a better fight than a tiger shark ever could. Yet fishing was never something that got stuck in our bones or dictated our waking and sleep cycles. It was fun and we fished only when we cared to.
So far my son has enjoyed a couple of jaunts offshore where he caught some sea bass that he proudly filleted and cooked all on his own. At the back of our neighborhood is a winding, tide dependent salt water creek that he has begun to fish, but it is not an ideal location. Still, it gives him a chance to learn and hone his craft.
For his most recent birthday he acquired a couple of new rods and reels and a whole slew of gear that he eagerly crammed into his new tackle box. Since creek fishing was proving to be lame, I suggested that we try surf fishing, a prospect that absolutely thrilled him. He rigged his lines the night before and even slept with those rods in his room, eager to get an early start the next morning. He even rode his bike up to the corner store to buy bait so that we wouldn’t waste precious time on the way to the beach.
His plan was to leave the house at 7:30 a.m. but he was up well before then. In the car on the way, he nervously sipped on his coffee and chattered about how he was convinced that a sand shark might be in his future. All the while I just listened and nodded to this dreamer, not wanting to bring too much reality to the table.
I got his rod holder anchored deep in the sand as he quickly cut a piece of mullet to set on a hook big enough to catch a small whale. After just a cast or two, he was convinced that he needed to bait a second rod so that he could fish double-fisted, if you will. I firmly had to encourage him to take it a rod at a time until he got used to fishing in the surf. I may not be an expert waterman, but I do know that fishing in the surf can be more miss than hit.
After twenty minutes of casting and coming up empty, the blame game began. We picked a bad spot. The waves are too much. We need to go somewhere else. I tried to maintain my composure as I explained that fishing requires patience and sometimes you get shutout and that’s okay. Enjoy the breeze in your face and the waves as they lap at your heels.
Frustrated, he tried his best to stay the course but I could tell it was hard. He switched rods and used artificial bait and suggested that we move locations again. All the while I kept assuring him that the fish were indeed out there, they just might not choose to take what he was offering today.
That day may not have been the best fishing day, but the lessons learned were invaluable. Sure, it would have been nice to have caught at least one fish – heck, it would have been nice to just feel a nibble – but the experience of being out there struggling to make it work is what I was hoping my son will remember. There are lots of guys that we know that are going to help him with the the finer points of all things fishing, but what he learned on days like that day are lessons that no one else can teach.
Most of his friends who fish have fathers and uncles and brothers who have fished their entire lives. These kids have multiple fishing rods, tackle boxes filled with hooks and lures, and access to different boats that can take them in the marsh or forty miles offshore. For a thirteen year old who has just discovered the joy of fishing, this can create quite a conundrum. In short, my son wants it all and he wants it now!
I am grateful for the friends we have that have taken him out fishing in their boats. You have probably gathered by now that I am not much of an angler. My family vacationed every summer at Long Beach, NC (now known as Oak Island) and my dad did teach my brothers and I how to surf fish. I can remember summers when the pompano were running and we couldn’t reel them in fast enough. Or the times we might get lucky enough to hook a blue that we were convinced gave us a better fight than a tiger shark ever could. Yet fishing was never something that got stuck in our bones or dictated our waking and sleep cycles. It was fun and we fished only when we cared to.
So far my son has enjoyed a couple of jaunts offshore where he caught some sea bass that he proudly filleted and cooked all on his own. At the back of our neighborhood is a winding, tide dependent salt water creek that he has begun to fish, but it is not an ideal location. Still, it gives him a chance to learn and hone his craft.
For his most recent birthday he acquired a couple of new rods and reels and a whole slew of gear that he eagerly crammed into his new tackle box. Since creek fishing was proving to be lame, I suggested that we try surf fishing, a prospect that absolutely thrilled him. He rigged his lines the night before and even slept with those rods in his room, eager to get an early start the next morning. He even rode his bike up to the corner store to buy bait so that we wouldn’t waste precious time on the way to the beach.
His plan was to leave the house at 7:30 a.m. but he was up well before then. In the car on the way, he nervously sipped on his coffee and chattered about how he was convinced that a sand shark might be in his future. All the while I just listened and nodded to this dreamer, not wanting to bring too much reality to the table.
I got his rod holder anchored deep in the sand as he quickly cut a piece of mullet to set on a hook big enough to catch a small whale. After just a cast or two, he was convinced that he needed to bait a second rod so that he could fish double-fisted, if you will. I firmly had to encourage him to take it a rod at a time until he got used to fishing in the surf. I may not be an expert waterman, but I do know that fishing in the surf can be more miss than hit.
After twenty minutes of casting and coming up empty, the blame game began. We picked a bad spot. The waves are too much. We need to go somewhere else. I tried to maintain my composure as I explained that fishing requires patience and sometimes you get shutout and that’s okay. Enjoy the breeze in your face and the waves as they lap at your heels.
Frustrated, he tried his best to stay the course but I could tell it was hard. He switched rods and used artificial bait and suggested that we move locations again. All the while I kept assuring him that the fish were indeed out there, they just might not choose to take what he was offering today.
That day may not have been the best fishing day, but the lessons learned were invaluable. Sure, it would have been nice to have caught at least one fish – heck, it would have been nice to just feel a nibble – but the experience of being out there struggling to make it work is what I was hoping my son will remember. There are lots of guys that we know that are going to help him with the the finer points of all things fishing, but what he learned on days like that day are lessons that no one else can teach.
No comments:
Post a Comment