|
| |
Bonefish: Thanks Dad
Posted by bonefisher on February 20, 2007
(2025 reads)
I started fishing when I was 3 or 4 years old in Eagle River, WI. My dad taught me how to cast, fight a fish and put my own worm on the hook. He got me started fly fishing when I was ten years old. He gave me one of my Grandpa's 5 wt fly rods and showed me some basic casting techniques. I was kind of on my own from there. I practiced everyday at our cabin in the UP of Michigan. Everyday I would cast a little further and eventually started catching fish. When he saw that I really liked fly fishing he bought me a 5wt outfit. Soon I was crushing the bass on top water poppers and wooly buggers. When I was in the fourth grade on an early spring afternoon I came home from school to find a brochure of Chica Lodge in Islamorada. It looked really awesome. My dad explained the ways of flats fishing to me and soon we were at O'Hare airport headed for Miami and eventually in a car driving down alligator alley. My first fishing in the keys was unbelievable. Enormous schools of bones and giant tarpon littered the grassy flats. Fish so big my dad's knees even shook. We
didn’t hook up with anything major but I did manage to catch a baby tarpon and muscled a fly at a few but no takers. That was my first real fishing. Now fast forward 5 years. I have now caught more tarpon and have gained a lot of experience, but am still the only one in my family who has landed a tarpon on the flats. Actually, I am the only one to land anything substantial on the flats. This year my dad's trip for the guys was a three day expedition in the Bahamas. As usual I hooked up first and got my first boney as my dad looked on. I now realized as I pondered all of my fishing expeditions around the world that I had always taken the bow while my dad watched. He always gave me the shot at the pheasant. He always netted my fish and paddled the canoe for me. It was his turn to catch the big one. Finally on the third day my dad got his bonefish, but not without a little help from 60 year old bonefish Willy who jumped into the water from the top of the polling platform stomping on sharks who were chasing my dad's bonefish. My dad landed the 2 lb. Bonefish and got a clumsy picture with his fly rod and the bleeding fish. From all of this I realized how much I want to be like my dad. He has sent me all over the world to chase fins, and given me every chance to succeed. He is never afraid to try something new, and without him my life wouldn't be half of what has been. He introduced me to the outdoors and taught me to have respect and cherish every moment in the woods and on the water. My dad is my hero, and I hope I will grow up to be half the man he is.
|
|
|
| | The comments are owned by the poster. We aren't responsible for their content. |
|
|
Re: Bonefish: Thanks Dad by jeremy on February 20, 2007 http://www.fliesandfins.com | | bonefisher --- great fish-tale ... very cool that you recognize how your dad gives you first and best shots on the bow .. and .. has done all of those things for you throughout your life .. and that you are appreciative for all the opportunities you have had because of your dad .... certainly, sounds like the kind of guy many people would admire ... i really enjoyed this fish tale .. especially since i have 2 young boys ... not old enough to fish yet .. but, when i read your fish tale .. i thought about how cool it would be if one of my sons ever rote such a cool thing about me ... hopefully some day... |
|
|
Re: Bonefish: Thanks Dad by greg on February 21, 2007 http://www.fliesandfins.com | | I started with a bobber and a worm with my Farther and Grandfarther when I was 6, I'm now 57 and am grateful for their getting me going on a lifetime of adventures. Great fish and tribute to your Dad. Thanks for the reminder of where it started. |
|
|
Re: Bonefish: Thanks Dad by hedrush999 on February 21, 2007 http://www.worldangling.com | My father was instrumental in getting me into fishing as a kid. I still remember with vivid detail the morning of my second birthday when he gave me my first rig. A silver Pflueger and a zebco 33. I can't even imagine how many bluegill and bass I slayed with that rod while growing up in Chicagoland.
Last spring my dad and I got to fish a warm spring day down here in florida. He jumped his first tarpon, which kicked his ass, and landed a bunch of small snook and jacks. I hope we can do it again soon. |
|
|
|
| |
|