A (True) Fishy Tale

“First fish.”  Courtesy photo.

By Joshua Elie

During our first telephone conversation, I asked Pat, Freshwater Reporter’s co-editor, about the possibility of writing a story or two for the paper. She explained about the community focus of the paper and the type of stories she likes to publish, adding, “Some people glance at the name of our paper and say, ‘Oh, the fishing report,’ or they think it’s a bunch of fishing stories.”

I believe that’s the only time I have ever heard her speak in less than the most sparkling, positive tone. (She assured me later that she and her future husband and co-editor spent many of their first dates fishing.)

Well, with the lilacs in bloom, or soon to be, if you love fishing as much as I do, you really can’t think about anything else. A beautiful, sunny day on the water, surrounded by the serene sounds and sights of nature. A gift of peaceful bliss.

Prepping       

About this time last year, “Blaze,” who lives in Pennsylvania and is my best friend in the whole wide world, calls me up and tells me he has always dreamed of fishing in the North Woods. Hey, perfect timing. Come on up. Now, my friend Blaze is a little bit “directionally challenged,” so it takes him 16 hours to make the 9-hour drive.

Anyway, here we are. I’ve got my little tin boat up on the trailer, loaded with all the poles, tackle, trolling motor, cooler full of “refreshments”… almost everything we need, including the anchors I built and haven’t had a chance to use yet.

Next stop: fishing license. I already have mine, but the internet is down, so they “can’t process anything from out-of-state,” meaning, his license. We may or may not have driven all the way to Manistee to get his. Or I may or may not have agreed to pay the fine if there were any problems, because we are now on a mission for sun and water. One more stop: Pappy’s Bait and Tackle. I love local bait shops. They are where you get your real fishing reports, and they always have the freshest bait.

Then, it’s off to the lake we go.

Boat’s in the water now, and I park the truck. I come back down to the water’s edge, and the boat is really in the water, like, away from shore. Seems that my good friend Blaze, trying to find a cell signal, has walked off. So, hey, nice hot, sunny day for a swim.

Minutes of water aerobics later, the boat’s ready to go, though I forgot my Gerber (pliers, knife, all-in-one kind of thing) in the truck. Now, I always leave my keys in the truck when I head out on the water, so they don’t fall into the drink. My friend Blaze has conscientiously locked the truck doors, but we are still all good. Just call my dad to bring the spare key; he is always looking for something to do, anyway. Surely somebody living on the lake still has a landline, so we will just ask around while we are fishing.

Reeling

Off we go for a sunny day on the water, serene sounds and sights, blissing now that we are catching fish!  Well, I am catching fish. Blaze’s first catch is his brand new 10-gallon Stetson hat, but no harm, no foul. It should be noted that Blaze has a few pounds on me, and when I look over I notice there is a good deal of water in his side of the boat. It’s my first trip on the water this year, so I was bound to forget something, and this time it is the drain plug and something to bail with. Good thing I have a pen in my pocket just the right size to plug the hole, and good thing for Blaze’s size 13 swamp shoes bailing us out.

A bit later, I hook a nice bass, though my line is too light to pull him into the boat. I reach over to grab him, and in I go.  Now, you can’t just pull yourself from the water and into such a small, light boat; you have to swim it to shore to climb aboard. My brilliant friend is confident he can just lean back and pull me up and in with no problem. So, there we are, swimming the boat to shore together. And we do find someone with a landline.

Here comes the storm cloud.

It’s cold now. Time to call it a day. Truck’s unlocked. Blaze’s first priority is to try to find a cell signal, and the wind is really picking up. I get one last swim to chase the loose boat again. Then, it’s time to go home and clean the fish. We can’t stop laughing because we both still managed to catch our limit.