A Fish Story

> If there ever was a person that was full of fish stories,
> I'd
> definitely fill the bill. One of my best stories comes from
> back in
> about 1978 and goes something like this: I grew up in a
> military
> family, United States Air Force to be specific, and one of
> dad's
> assignments took us to Oklahoma on Altus Air Force base. My
> dad was an
> avid fisherman, and I am sure he didn't just
> "happen" to the sport of
> fishing. I am also sure that dad had been fishing before I
> was born. I
> was born in 1961, and pretty much started fishing as soon
> as I entered
> elementary school.
>
> So in 1978 on a hot Oklahoma day, way out on some private
> land, I sat
> with cane pole in hand enjoying my environment. Dad, his
> buddy and I
> were all using grasshoppers and night crawlers for catfish
> bait. But
> as we all know "cats" will eat almost anything
> including gnawing on
> your hand if you let them. Dad was only a short distance
> from me. I
> was fishing into the lake under a clump of overhanging
> trees with
> shade overshadowing the water and a swift current just
> barely pulling
> my bobber on the cane under the water, this is how I
> started the
> waiting game. Dad and his friend were catching the fish.
> Me, I was
> coming up empty. Maybe I should have used my spin casting
> reel,
> instead of the cane pole.
>
> Like all impatient youth, I wandered over to where dad was
> fishing. Of
> course he was more concerned about how I was doing with the
> cane pole
> and not really paying attention to his own rod. So when I
> got back to
> where I had firmly planted my pole and I started to pull in
> my line, I
> figured I had a snag. My bobber was all the way under
> water, and it
> was difficult trying to pull my line in. I must have a
> snag.
>
> Of all the rotten luck, no fish, now a snag. But wait, this
> was a
> weird snag, because it was jerking to the left and then to
> the right.
> Then my line started to pull away, moving deeper into the
> water with
> the fast moving current. "Dad, Dad...I shouted, I have
> a bite". But
> what was it? Of course I knew all the rules-of-the-road of
> fishing
> etiquette, No noise, No excessive vibrations to startle the
> fish, so
> my hollering probably scared away dad's fish.
> Fortunately though, I
> pulled in a pickle bucket sized (meaning length) channel
> catfish. He'd
> taken my bait and the cane pole stayed in place so I could
> catch my
> prize. Of course dad couldn't get mad. When I carried
> it over to show
> him, I was one "happy camper" that hot day in
> Altus Oklahoma in 1978.
> Just wished I would have taken a photo. But a moment like
> that snaps a
> photo that will stay in your mind forever.