A Splash of Lime
Grand Rapids....come for the churches, stay for the Nascar and Deer Hunting.
Monday, May 23, 2005
A FISH TALE
It's so nice to have warmer weather approaching. Flowers are blooming, birds are chirping, and of course...tthe fish are spawning, the fish are spawning, THE FISH ARE SPAWNING!

Yeppers...I likes me some fishin. Theres nothing better than hiking through the woods to a remote stream, carefully sneaking up to the bank so as not to cast any shadows, and inspecting, oh so closely, what little insects are hatching and scurrying across the water. Then it's time to sit back and tie that perfect fly thats going to land that big ole trout . Will it be a Chartreuse Striper Fly? Maybe a Clouser Style Minnow or a Crocheted Caddis Pupa. It all depends on what goodies I've got left in the ole box-o-materials. So I sit back and commence with my tying, all the while examining the currents of the stream, the different rocks and logs that may impede my fine feathered creation from drifting over the exact, special spot that I want it to drift....

Oh...who the hell am I kidding. I DONT FLYFISH! Sheesh...you think I've got the patience for all that microscopic detail...the hours of practice with those oversize rods...the whole "A River Runs Through It" load of crap. Hell no!

I fish for bass. While drinking beer. In a big noisy motor boat that is not even close to an idyllic stream. This aint about getting back to nature my friends...it's about landing the LUNKER LARGEMOUTH! Bikinis on jet-skis are an added bonus.

So....I will be doing some bass fishing soon, and it made me think of the biggest freshwater fish I've ever seen on a line.

It was back in the mid 70's.

Our family used to spend the summers in a town called Interlochen where there is this music camp that we all went to. Interlochen is located on a lake...well, technically 2 lakes, but Green lake is where our cottage was.

On a lot of evenings, my sisters and I would pick out a big ole lure and just fish from the docks. One of our favorite lures (we only had one tackle box so we shared) was this Rapala Minnow. It's a minnow lure thats about 3-1/2 to 4 inches long, with 3 treble hooks dangling from it's underside, located at the probiscus, abdomen, and asshole areas respectively. With 20-20 hindsight, it was stupid to be fishing with a lure that size in such shallow water, but hey...stranger things have happened right?

There wasn't a lot of room at the end of the dock, so usually, the first person who said they were going down there got to fish first. This sometimes led to a race to finish dinner and be the first one to grab a pole, as was the case with this particular evening, when my older sister beat me to the punch. This meant that I got to stay on the porch with my parents, discussing the writings of Thomas Merton and watching boxing.

A brief word about the lay of the land....From our cottage, you had to walk about 50 yards to reach the top of a tall, steep staircase. This staircase led to the dock below. It was actually quite a beautiful little bluff...half uprooted trees sticking out over the water, kingfishers and loons and raccoons close by...lots of oak trees. In fact, it wasn't uncommon, while hanging out on the dock, to have an acorn bean you on the head.

We've tried to piece together the sequence of events leading up to the amazing, biggest freshwater fish I've ever seen on a line and here's what we came up with:

My sister was casting off the edge of the dock and as she tossed her line forward, a little tree branch or something barely caught the edge of one of the Three...count em..Three treble hooks that were on that Rapala Minnow.

This slight snagging action caused the gentle arc of line and lure to be transformed into a straight path. A path that led directly to the back of my sisters head. A treble hook has 3 prongs it. The minnow had 3 treble hooks. Thats 9 barbed prongs. 6 of the 9 prongs were now firmly embedded in my sisters scalp. For some reason, she thought an acorn, or a twig, had beaned her in the head, so she started to reel in her errant cast. Well, it didn't take that long to run out of line and before she knew it, she had found the lure.

We heard a faint cry of "Mom", as she came coming up the stairs. The rod was bent way over...practically touching the tip of her head, but, to her credit, she didn't let that fish get away so easily. In fact, she had set those hooks in pretty darn good. Having hair down to the middle of her back wasn't helping that much. After much fiddling, my mom gave up...this was going to require a trip to the emergency room. Apparently the doctors there knew all about fishing and there was much discussion as to whether or not she was a keeper, or if she should be thrown back. I on the other hand, being all of 12 or 13 years of age, was lobbying big time to have her stuffed and mounted. After a few little snips, the lure was out and we were on our way back home. I fished there for several more summers, but never came close to breaking the record established by my big sis.
posted by Jonathan @ 10:23 AM  
1 Comments:
  • At 6:37 AM, Blogger Jennifer said…

    Tell us another story, Uncle Johnny, pleeeeeeze? Are you out selecting china patterns or something? Please tell us another story!

     
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Name: Jonathan
Home: Grand Rapids, Michigan, United States
About Me: Just a guy who trying to eek out a living as a graphic designer in SW Michigan.
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