Fish Story

Thought For The Day

This is going to be hard to believe but I swear every word of it is true. Really, there is just no way anyone could make up a story like this. So I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt. Here goes.

It was one of those mid May, spring days in Michigan the Chamber of Commerce dreams about. The sky was that streaky, whitewashed blue, the wind a 2 - 3 mile an hour zephyr and the temperature about 68 degrees. The water was crystal clear. When you looked at the water from the cottage it looked like a sea of silver dollars glittering in the sun. When I saw it I knew it would be a slap in Mother Nature's face not to go fishing.

Yes, I knew I had promised to go to the hardware store to get the door closer and I would.  What difference would an hour make in the greater scheme of things? So I went into the closet and got a couple of spinning rods, a net, tackle box and hat. What else did I need? Everything else is in the tackle box. I should be good to go. As I started out of the house the mother of my children sent an icy breath my way making the hair on the nape of my neck stand erect. Then the chill slid down my spine as her words wrapped around me like a blizzard.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to go out for about an hour. Then I'll go to the hardware store."

"You said you would take care of the door, first thing."

"And I will, right after I get back in from a short, tiny, little .... Can you believe how beautiful it is? I'll be back in a little bit."

"Sure you will, what's a little bit?"

"An hour, I just have to... The bass are on their beds. This is perfect, absolutely perfect.  O K ?"

"One hour? You are standing here, in front of me, with rods and tackle, telling me that you will be back here, in this house, in one hour. Really?"

"Yes, I've gotta go."

I ran down to the boat, put in the gear and headed out toward Hidden Lake. On the way I stopped a couple of times and landed some two pound bass. I even caught a couple of Northern Pike. I was pretty anxious to get to Hidden Lake, a little cove, where I had a lot of luck catching three to five pound bass. I sat the rod down and started the boat motor. I headed south to my favorite spot.

The cove I thought of as my own was free of the local rabble so I dropped anchor and began preparing my rods for action. I've always had a lot of luck with a kaboozi. They just seem to be magnets for...

"What? A Kaboozi? You don't think I'm going to tell you what I really use do you? Please."

Bass love them. Pike do too. The problem was I only had two. That would have been fine but I use very light tackle and pretty fine mono. It makes the fishing a lot more fun but you do break a fair amount of line resulting in the loss of lures. Oh, well, it's what I had so I'll just make it work, I thought. On my first cast I got a strike, set the hook and lost the fish and the lure when the line broke. Darn! I put another rig on the line and also put a rig on the other rod which had a higher test line, just in case. When the bass are on their beds in the spring they are very protective and quite aggressive. There is usually pretty good action during that time.

I caught two more bass and a pike. I lost another rig on the lighter tackle and then I saw the strangest thing I had ever seen in that water. There was a very dark fish about thirty inches long swimming by the boat so nonchalantly, it looked like it was strolling on the Champs Elysee in Paris at midnight.

"What in... What the heck is that?"

I talk to the air when I am alone. It's harmless. I get in less trouble talking to the air than people. People can get an attitude. I was transfixed. I watched as it moved past the boat and on toward the back of the cove. When it went out of sight I still was staring at where it had been. As I sat there staring at the water something gradually became apparent to me. There was a path, for lack of a better term, where the fish had been. It was like a little path. Hmmmm. I looked at the other end of the boat. I stared at the water until I began to see little differences, yes, there it was, a little path was there too.

"Well, I'll be dammed."

I sat there staring at the path until I caught some movement in the water. Sure enough, there it was again. He was so damn casual I felt like asking him about the weather.

I think you've already figured out the hour I told "you know who" about isn't going to be accurate. I always seem to underestimate how long it will take to fish, and tell people things. Stop by tomorrow if you like and I'll try to finish this fish tale, true fish tale.

©Herb Ratliff, August 9, 2012, All Rights Reserved