Fish Story

Grampa Jim finally relented and agreed to take sis and me fishing.  He bought each of us a bamboo pole with heavy green line, hooks, and a bobber.  I filled a tin can with loose soil and dug worms from the ditch. We were set.

The day finally arrived to go fishing. Dad dropped us off  at the boat launch on Paw-Paw Lake.  The DNR had carved a channel from the lake to a point near the road where they created a sand-ramp and parking lot.  The channel formed an island, and the water circulated from the lake back into the lake.

We set up on the bank to catch our supper.  The big adventure soon became a big bore.  We caught a few small blue gills and kept them on a stringer.  By late afternoon Gramps must have gotten more bored than we were and he went tramping off into the bush.  He came back a little while later with a long stick that he cut from a willow bush.  He made a pole so he could show us how to fish. Instead of sliding a worm on his hook, he cut up a bluegill.  He said, “ if you want to catch a big fish, you have to use some real bait.”  I did the same with my pole and Sis’ too.

We were tired of holding the poles by hand, and Gramps showed us how to prop them on a rock so we could sit by the pole and watch the bobber. Just then, Dad came to pick us up.

We were telling him all about the day when my bobber went under, and the line started moving.  I grabbed the pole just as the line went tight, and the pole bent over.  Whatever was on the end was huge.  Dad got so excited that he ran up behind me, and put his arms around me to help.  He was afraid that the “fish” would pull me in.  I was pulling on the pole with all my might.  The pole was bent 180º and the fish was pulling hard to get off.  Then, in a flash, there was a huge splash. The line snapped and sent me and dad over backwards.  We didn’t even hit the ground when the second pole went down with the bobber out of sight.  Dad ran over to help Sis.  This time there was no splash.  Dad just reached around Sis and pulled hard on the pole; the line snapped. They fell over backwards.  In the meantime, Grampa Jim watched the whole thing. He told us that the splash was a huge fish jumping to shake the hook.  Instead he broke the line.  None of us saw what hit the second pole.

Needless to say, the boredom turned into an adrenalin rush.  I think dad and gramps were more excited than Sis or I.   My excitement turned into anger for letting the fish of my life get away.  Grampa told the story many times over, and each time the fish got bigger, and bigger, and bigger.

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