Memories Of Fishing With Dad

[flyangler]

The Fly Fishing Rabbi started this on another board.

http://www.theflyfishingrabbi.blogspot.com/

 

Here's mine:

 

Dad, Mom, and the church youth minister were taking a spin in the big canoe. My brother and I had agitated to fish from the dock, so Dad left us his big metal tackle box that weighed ninety one point nine pounds and waved from the stern. They were going to watch birds and take a leisurely paddle.

 

Worms are the best for this, my brother tried to convince me. But he was not going to bait my hook for me. Two years older than me and already a jerk. I was not going to bait my hook for me either. We were maybe 10 and 8. Oh what wonders that tackle box held. Feathery things, shiny things, brightly colored things. If it weren't for the sharp, pointy things, I bet that gal we snuck a peek at on tv, that Gypsy Rose Lee, would have loved them. I liked the red and white Dare Devl spoon the best.

 

It took some time to figure out how to cast and release the push button at the right time, but no mammals were hurt in the making of this memory. To our great and lasting surprise, northern pike plied these waters like so many piscine rip saws. The boat load of bird watchers arrived just in time to see me dragging a northern only slightly shorter than me across the beach, imploring anyone who would listen to take it off the hook. You know what? I still don't touch those things.

 

Dad came to the rescue. It was a tagged pike, so we had that learning lesson. We also had pike for dinner. But the other thing I remember about this trip is standing around the big Country Squire Wagon and rehashing the bird watching. Dad had admired the youth minister's bucket hat and she plucked it from her head and dropped it on top of his crew cut. His hair poked out of the vent holes in such a way that she declared that he looked like a weird bird the "horny pecker." Her face was as red as the setting sun on an oxbow lake in Iowa when she realized what she'd said to one of the church elders. My brother and I laughed at the laughing then, but now that I know what it means, I laugh in fond remembrance.

[Lawrence]

I only had one fishing memory with my dad, and it was way back when I was like 6. My Dad, uncle and brother were all in a boat fishing with baited jigs bouncing off bottom and my dad caught one poked out its eye then put it on my hook, and was all like "there you go son, that will get you a big fish" I don't recall getting into any fish that day

 

We ate the fish that he poked out his eye, just to clarify that.

[esleech]

My dad doesn't fish much. I remember teaching him how to fish when I was twelve though. Kind of backwards huh? We fish together every year in Northern Saskatchewan though. I guess my best memory is when we were motoring down the lake and hit a big stump with the prop. We stopped and while I was inspecting the motor, he caught 3 pike over 8 lbs on consecutive casts!

[126barnes]

I guess the one that stands out the most was an all day hike and fish trip that we went on when I was about 10. We walked into a pond over a couple ridges along wood roads belonging to locals. With the fishing not being that good we traveled along a brook that exited the pond, nothing specially until it dropped down into a gorge that was about 50 feet or so deep and a couple hundy wide. I still remember that waterfall and the nice little pool we had a boil-up (Baloney, beans and a cup of tea that never tasted so good) next to and fished for hours. We followed that brook for miles, through thick alder beds and caught a few more muds along the way. We finally crossed another wood road when the land leveled out and started the hike back over the rigid. I was so tired, legs felted that they were anchored to the ground and Dad joking around putting weight of my shoulders by leaning on me. After breaking out on the main road thru the community we dropped in to the nearest house and called mom to come pick us up, there was no way I could walk the 10km back to our house. That was the best nights sleep I think I every had.

 

We were spose to go home this summer to fish that same stretch, but it looks like it will have to wait another year.

[NormanMcLean]

I have many memories of fishing with my old man growing up. Fishing for splake on Lake Minnewanka, pike fishing on the Blindman River. But I remember when he first taught me how to fly-fish on the Chelahis River in B.C on a beautiful August afternoon. I was chucking some red fly with a cheap Mitchell Rod. I caught one 6" trout and had the time of my life. I have never been back to that river, but one day...

[Brownstone]

so many fond memories over the years of fishing with dad, but the most predominant must be the smell of the dry fly dressing dad and grandpa use to make, made of candle wax and naphtha. You'd jam the little bottle under your armpit to warm it to a liquid and walk around all day smelling like a Coleman stove...

[Kale]

Any time I got to go fishing with my old man are my fondest memories. My favorite memory is when I was about 5 or 6 and fishing at Beaver Mines and it was my first time casting a spinning rod by myself and as soon as the lure hit the water I had a fish on..Good Times and Great Memories

[jonny5]

So many favorites, but the best ones were salmon fishing on the sunshine coast. We used to go to this little cabin out there a couple times a year when the springs were around, and we would go to the gas station, get tonnes of gas, load up our live well with at least 50 herring and mooch live herring on the tide changes. I remember my first spring and thinking the thing was going to pull me in. It was about 25 pounds I was about 10 years old, so it was a big fish. Anyways most of the fish we caught were dog fish, and I remember one time I got a spring and he got dogfish (not a good thing mind you), and I felt sorry for him so I tried to cheer him up by telling him "Well, you got the biggest dogfish"

 

Still funny today

 

I always found the ocean to be fascinating. Sometimes we would see millions of jellyfish, or whales, or have seals steal our fish (I found that fun at the time). Great times. With all this money in the province, the government should build an ocean!

[birchy]

My dad wasn't much for fishing but the odd time one of his friends would drag him and I out for a trip.

 

The funniest memory I have is a friend of ours taking out out to a lake out in the backwoods, had to take his 4x4 truck to get in to it. It was a beautiful, pristine, lake and we took his canoe out and were chucking hardware and bait for trout. The problem was that my dads friends canoe was really skinny and therefore really tipsy.. that, combined with the fact that my dad never learned how to swim, made for an interesting day!

 

A few times the canoe got a little wobbly when one of us would move or make a cast, and of course you always have someone that over compensates and makes the thing wobble even more! Well sure enough, after awhile, the canoe got wobbly and first thing we were all in the water!! I knew how to swim just fine but you can imagine my poor dad... NOT knowing how to swim and then all of a sudden getting dumped into a lake!! He was freaking out!! Thrashing around when all of a sudden I stand up and realize we're only in chest deep water... so I'm like "DAD.. stand up!!" .. took him a bit to realize it, but then he finally heard me and got his footing and stood up.. haha.. We all got a good chuckle out of that one!

 

Unfortunately though we lost most of our bait and alot of our hardware.. We're standing there helplessly watching all the trout go nuts picking off all the worms and stuff we had just dumped in the water!! We still have enough to continue fishing though so my dads friend decides it would be better if it was just the two of us in the canoe. So he decides to fish from shore as my dad and I paddle out a little ways and continue fishing. So after a little while we're fishing and wouldn't you know it? the same stupid thing happens again!! The canoe starts wobbling.. my dad over compensates, and SPLASH.. we're in the water again! Fortunately this was a shallow lake because again we were able to stand up without TOO much trouble. My dad was NOT pleased.. especially when seeing his friend laughing his @ss off while watching this whole thing happen AGAIN.. but this time from shore!! We never went fishing again with him and that canoe! LOL

 

I had this thing when I was a kid where I was really protective of my dad and always got nervous whenever he tried something new for the first time (i.e. - trying to learn how to ski on one of the quad chairs in Killington, Vermont!) so this whole thing at the time was pretty stressful for me!! In hindsight though I think it's one of the funniest stories and every once in awhile I still see those friends of ours and him and I have a good chuckle about it. Unfortunately, my dad passed away 10 years back of a heart attack.... but this is one of those things you just never forget!!

[birchy]

I always found the ocean to be fascinating. Sometimes we would see millions of jellyfish, or whales, or have seals steal our fish (I found that fun at the time). Great times. With all this money in the province, the government should build an ocean!

I grew up on the Atlantic... amen brotha!

[grannyknot]

My dad and I went fishing often when I was young, and now I have the opportunity to return the favor by teaching him to fly fish. Many memories, but the one that stands out most was when we hiked up the Bow west of Cochrane, and while crossing a train trussel had our own "Stand By Me" experience, sprinting back down the train tracks while he tried to carry the dog. We never caught much, and rarely cared.

[reevesr1]

My dad was a fisherman.

 

By that, I don't just mean a guy who caught fish, though he certainly did that. He was somewhat of a ledgend in the Galveston Bay area. He had a magazine article written about him when he was 18 and the picture at NASA of things to do in South Texas was of my dad and one of his bestfriends with a huge stringer of fish. But that's not really mean when I say he was a fisherman, it goes deeper. To put it as simply as I can, it means he lived his life looking at each day and each person from the perspective of "what can I learn from this". And he took a story from each encounter. And man, could he tell a story. It made him a true joy to be around as he held court. If I could pick any one of my dad's traits to emulate, it would be that.

 

We went fishing all the time. I have more stories than I could ever relate. To tell the truth, I can't think of any bad stories. But my fondest fishing story of my dad is a trip we didn't take.

 

When it became apparent this time last year that he was dying, all his family and friends gathered to say goodbye. He had stomach cancer and had lost 50 lbs or so because he literally couldn't eat. So he was a bit weak to say the least. Even so, he entertained everyone with all the old fishing stories that we had all heard many times before. All his old friends showed up (and would pace outside the front door afraid to go in. It was incredibly moving). One of his buddies put together a dvd with old fishing picture. I can't describe how fantastic this was.

 

Here is the fishing story, finally. My son and nephew were in his bedroom talking to him. When they came out, dad called for my mom. She came out of the room laughing and crying, much like me right now. She said he asked for a ham sandwich because he was going to take the boys fishing. Now we all knew there was no way this waas happening. He could not stand up for more than 5 minutes. But he was completely serious when he said it.

 

My dad was a fisherman.

[flyangler]

Great stories guys!

 

I emailed mine to my brother and he liked it. He said that while he doesn't remember all the details exactly the same way he could believe that he wouldn't bait my hook for me "You little sissy!"

[Pipestoneflyguy]

Great Thread !

 

My dad only took me fishing once as a child, it was at a trout farm in Ontario, and the fee included our can of corn LOL (same thing with camping and a number of other outdoor activities, my dad is an exec type so these things were likely fatherly obligations that had to be satisfied at some point from his point of few) - although dad is not an outdoorsman I consider myself lucky that he was willing to go out and give these things a shot either way so that us kids could experience them

 

He has never taken to fishing as anything more than an occasional distraction, its just not what he is all about, none-the-less my fondest memories include him flying out for my cold lake trip last year, he had a great time and he even let me give him a few fly casting lessons. He had a 5 way bypass this last winter so he couldn't make this years trip so last years memories are all that much more important to me now. For some reason, that we never really determined, he kept landing perch while the rest of us caught pike, provided some great comic relief.....

 

[BlueNorther]

Like others have said,too hard to pick just one.I can remember following Dad along the South Platte in Colorado or the Cache La Poudre,not old enough to handle a flyrod but if he hooked up he'd hand it over to me to try and land it.Then there were our 10 day forays up into the Kananaskis Lakes with my four brothers and Dad.Back then there were no crowds,sometimes we'd have that whole country to ourselves.At one time there were Kokanee salmon in the lower K.First time I'd seen Dad not able to I.D. a fish,a warden finally was able to tell us what they were.I miss those trips alot but now I'm making memories with my kids and nephews.

[bigbowtrout]

My Dad golf's

[OneMoreLastCast]

Fishing the Crowsnest River when I was about 6 years old with my Dad and my older Brother, when my Tough older Brother starts screaming like a girl, so my Dad and I run through the bush to see how big the Bear or Cougar is that is obviously mauling him.

We find my brother halfway up a tree and he's pointing at the ground at something.

We walk up to see a rubber snake that somone must have lost. I still haven't let him forget that one.

The same day I pointed at some Deer Poop and said, "Dad, what kind of Poop is that"? To which he replied, "Don't call it Poop, you sound like a sissy".

So I asked him, "Well, what should I call it then"? He told me to just say "*hit". Sounded good to me. So I asked him, "What kind of *hit is that"?

 

"It's Deer *hit Son".....

 

We got back to Grandma and Grandpa's where I informed the house of 20 or so people that I would be right back, because I had to go take a "*hit".

Mom wasn't impressed.

It was okay though, because now that I am married with children, I understand why I didn't get in trouble that day....

 

Dad did.

 

I posted My birthday story from this past April at the AFF. I won't bore you, so long story short....

Dad acted like he'd forgotten my Birthday and in the evening, he told me there was something in the garage I should look at.

 

I went out to find the first Fly rod I caught my first fish on, over 30 years ago sitting there. It was my Grandpa's and my Dad had gotten it awhile ago and waited for the right time to give it to me.

So many memories thanks to that old rod.

Made for a great day.