Why I don't go fishing more often each year is always a puzzle to me. Once I'm out on the lake, the beauty of it entrances me. Of course it's the technicalities that are the obstacle. I've found myself more than once in the middle of the lake, a stiff wind kicking up, unable to get the motor started. This year - as last year - it was the low lake level and the difficulty of docking the pontoon boat that kept me on shore. Once, in a desperate attempt to get it fully on the lift, I actually found myself with one foot on the dock and the other on the boat, beginning that America's Funniest Home Videos clip of "doing the splits before she falls in the lake" howler. The adrenalin was certainly pumping as I discovered upper body strength I never knew I had. I and the boat both ended up where we belonged. Finally this weekend, my buddy Don just docked it on shore- a revelation. Hey! This is easy.
This summer, after Don, Sarah, and I each caught a nice Walleye, Don called to say that I was going to be the provider of next weekend's fish dinner. I have enough fish for the three of us, but he then called back to say, "Rick and Cindy are invited - you'll have to catch more fish." A challenge is mother's milk to me. A fishing I will go. One more Don call - "I've invited my mother too." Yikes - the pressure's on.
As Don, Sarah, and I were fishing, Don had to redo Sarah's line. While he was doing it I thought to myself, "I don't remember how to thread the hook", but didn't say anything to Don. The next night out alone on the pontoon, I caught a small fish and as I was freeing the hook allowing the fish to plop back in the lake, the hook came off. Uh oh. Now how does this go again? Through the eye, make 6, 7, or 8 turns and then back through the beginning? It just unraveled. Expletive. Finally, I mostly gave up and just tied a square knot with attachments. Not pretty but it seemed to hold - until a big fish got a hold of it and bit the whole line off. Cripes! It's getting dark - my eyes aren't great - and I don't know what I'm doing to begin with. The fish are biting and I can't get a hook to stay on. So that night was a bust.
The solution? The source of all knowledge, of course. Google. There I found my choice of many easy knots. Armed with this knowledge out I went again. I'm sorry to have to admit that I'd left the container of leeches on the boat - in the sun - all that day, so all that was left was leech soup. Not pleasant. So it was nightcrawlers for me. Big juicy ones.
The wind was blowing from the east (wind from the east, fish bite the least), so I was prepared to be skunked and just enjoy the scenery. After about an hour with the wind getting colder I was reeling in slowly when it seemed the hook got snagged. Darn. Hey, wait a minute, the snag is fighting back. Ooo it's a big one - well big for me. Sure enough, the biggest Walleye I ever caught. 19 inches. What was that Don said this morning? "Be sure to put the net on the boat." Right. Well, I'd forgotten to do that. So, with a great deal of trepidation, and that Walleye shaking himself like a Holy Roller, I managed to hoist him onto the pontoon and into the old, plastic, dog food bucket I use as a fish keeper. He was bent in half in there. As I held the line to take out the hook, much to my shock I saw the red hook with my line from the night before. I almost laughed out loud. "Gotcha fella."
