Gone Fishin', Instead Of Just A Wishin'

All of my siblings love to fish. It’s been a lifelong pleasure. Through the years, we’ve discovered that all worries and cares of this world disappear while fishing. At one point in my life, our family owned a boat rental and concession stand on a state lake where I grew up in Kansas. I remember taking a motorboat to one end of the lake and drifting down the length of the lake, lying down in the seat, watching the clouds but especially my line, while cruising for crappie!

On warm summer evenings, I’d be out after dark for the thrill of catching catfish. Using the light of my Coleman lantern, I’d have several poles set out watching the tips like a hawk. Soon they’d start moving ever so slightly, and I’d start getting excited. I knew the catfish were getting ready to take my bait.

We also had a canoe for rent, and I loved the quietness as it glided through the water. I was able to paddle closer to the bank where all the bass love to hide and feed in the evenings at sunset.

I remember tying a line to my toe, and fishing off the pontoon boat that we also rented. When I moved here, I learned about jug fishing and trot lines. I’ll never forget a friend who asked me, in all seriousness, “How do you get the fish in the jug?” The biggest catfish I ever caught was on a jug line and since it came out of a spring fed lake, all 12 pounds of him were yummy!

Just recently, I was fishing off the dock at the farm, and I knew I’d hooked something big. When I saw the size of his head, I began screaming and Danny grabbed the net. I wish I could say I exhibited skill at landing this massive bass, but alas, I cannot. Although he sported a massive head which was about half the size of his body, he only weighed four pounds. I had just barely hooked him. I think he was elderly or perhaps sick, for if he’d have jumped out of the water trying to shake the hook, I’m sure I wouldn’t be telling you this story.  

 Gone fishin’, instead of just a wishin’.  

Charles F. Kenny