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Re: storys
Posted By: Jim C In Response To: storys (Terry)
Date: Sunday, 1-8-12, at 11:58 a.m.
Here is a great story for those interested
It was one of those extra hot Dog Days of August with the temperature in the low 90s, but the pier still entertained it’s regular crowd of would-be anglers, all hoping to catch the big one.
A kid rode into the park on his bike, saying loudly, “Boy the pier is crowded!” and with a glance at the beach area, saw an old salt on his chair with two rods spiked up. The kid never thought of fishing directly off of the beach and was ready to give it a try.
The kid parked the bike on the walkway and took off a snapper rod and a small pail that held an assortment of lures and tins. The walking distance of 500 feet to the water came easy to the 12 year old. On went a 2-ounce jig and out went the line into the water. It hit with a Pop! and the jig flew off. On went another, and off that went, too!
After six more jigs, things finally looked right. The old salt just sat there, not saying a word, and watched. The kid turned to him and said, “I guess that there’s no fish here, huh?”
The old salt grinned and replied, “You see that pile of mounded beach sand over there by my cooler? Push the sand back!”
A look of surprise covered the kid’s face. “Bluefish,” said the old salt, “about 15 pounds or more.”
“Why do you keep it covered with wet sand?” asked the kid.
“The sun would dry the fish out and it wouldn’t taste too good,” replied the old salt. “Did you notice that I slashed its tail to let the blood out before it gets into the meat?”
The kid appeared shocked that there were fish that large in the area. The old salt said that sometimes they follow the bunker and come in towards shore for an easy meal. “Some days you catch ‘em and some days you don’t. That’s why it’s called fishing and not catching.”
“The biggest fish I ever caught was with my dad two years ago in a lake out west,” the kid said, adding that it was a trout of around 2 pounds.
The old salt noticed a tear in the kid’s eye. “Nice fight that trout must have given you.”
“Yeah. Dad said it was beauty.” The kid said how the father was killed in an auto accident, and how Mom moved the family east because of her job, and how saltwater fishing was a whole new experience.
The old salt extended his hand and introduced himself as Pete. “You can call me Gramps, if you want.”
“My name is Sam,” the kid replied.
The two stayed on the beach together, and, in a little while, Sam asked, “Do you think you can teach me about catching something like that fish of yours?”
“I can’t promise you that you will catch one, but we’ll surely give it a try,” said Gramps. “Remember, it’s called fishing not catching.”
Just then, Gramps’ 10-foot Ugly Stik started to buck. The line pulled slowly from the reel, and melted off into the water.
“Maybe a bass,” said Gramps. He told Sam to pick up the rod and set the hook, but Sam paused at the sight of the bent rod and the line running faster and faster off the spool. “Do it now, Sam!” Gramps yelled.
The kid picked up the rod and felt something powerful trying to take it away. “Hit him hard,” Gramps yelled.
Sam set the hook so hard that the youngster’s baseball cap flew off, sending long hair into the girl’s eyes.
“Pump back with the rod and reel forward,” said Gramps.
The fish went airborne. “Did you see that?” yelled Sam.
“It’s a nice-sized blue,” said Gramps.
After a few more pumps and reels, the fish was in the wash, and Sam’s arms were shaking. The blue was about 10 pounds. “Look at the teeth,” Gramps said. “They’re like a saw. Never put your fingers near that mouth.”
Gramps asked Sam if she wanted to keep the bluefish or release it. Sam chose to let the fish go.
“I don’t take more fish than I and my sister, June, can eat,” said Gramps as he released the blue. “I didn’t realize that you were a young lady, Sam.”
Sam explained that her name was Samantha, but she was a bit of a tomboy so was called “Sam” for short.
From that day on, Sam and Gramps were friends. She was always at the beach before Gramps arrived, always there to lend him a hand with his tackle and gear. Over the following weeks, Gramps explained the different kinds of fish that were around during the summer, how to catch them, and what types of bait and lures to use. He told her about stripers and hoped that they would catch one someday.
Through all of Gramps’ talking about the how-tos and what-tos about fishing, about tackle, bait, lures, knots, and everything, Sam learned how the old man lost his wife about a year before and how he now lived with his sister.
As they talked one morning late in the summer, there was a big boil in the water, right in front of them.
“Bass,” said Gramps. “I hope that he’s hungry for fresh bunker.”
One of the 10-foot rods bounced and the line started to run. “He’s taking the bait,” Gramps said. “Let him run before you set up on him.” Sam held the rod for what seemed like a lifetime before she heard Gramps shout, “Now!”
The rod arched and the line peeled off. “This is a beauty,” yelled Gramps as a broad tail flashed on top of the water.
The battle lasted almost thirty minutes, but Sam finally had the bass at her feet. “I’ve never seen a bass this big,” Gramps said. He measured it at 57 inches. “It will go 50 pounds or better! Keep or release, Sam?” By now, people were coming over from the pier to see the big bass.
“I remember what you told me when we first met,” said Sam. “It’s way too big for me and my mom to eat.”
Slowly, Gramps and Sam worked the big bass back into the water as the people from the pier looked on, shocked. Back and forth, they moved the fish, pushing the water through its gills as they supported its belly. Slowly, the bass began to swim again, and, with a flash of its tail, sent a spray of water over Gramps and Sam before it swam away.
The people from the pier shook their heads in disbelief. “A fish of a lifetime,” one said. Gramps winked at Sam and told her that she was a good student.
“I have to get me a rod and reel like you have,” Sam said. “Maybe with enough baby-sitting money, or maybe for Christmas, if Mom says it’s okay.”
Sam was down at the beach the next morning, but Gramps wasn’t there yet. She looked on the beach where they’d caught the big bass, and there sat two rods and a tackle pail with a note attached to the rim.
Sam,
Gramps would have wanted you to have his tackle. He went to meet his wife last night in Heaven. He had a bad heart and before he left, he had made me promise to leave his tackle here for you. He and his wife never had any children or grandchildren. He wanted you to know that he loved you very much.
Thanks,
Gramps’ Sister
June
Tears rolled down Sam’s face as she picked up one of the rods and sent a cast flying out towards the fish that were breaking in the distance.
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