Last Updated on February 22, 2019 by Terry
If you have read my book that is full of fishing adventures, you may remember that I have fallen from a boat eleven times. (He said 11!) I enjoy going overboard so much, that I have invited others.
Back in the mid-70s, this old boy I know, and I were at it again one night at a small but very clear lake. We had only caught a few bass so I decided to shine my spot light into the water to see if I could find some fish that way.
We were actually seeing a few and that pesky little light bulb in my head came on again. I knew I had a frog gig in my truck. My truck had a ladder rack and the gig was tied on top. You never know when a good gig will come in handy. We agreed that this was one of those times. We cranked up the boat’s motor and took off to the truck.
When we arrived at the launch ramp, we should have loaded up and went home, but being it was us, we never had that thought. It did not take long before we were back down the lake and shining our light around the edge of the bank looking for some fish. Small ones were everywhere and it appeared that the only larger fish that we would have a chance to spear were going to be Gar. Game fish like bass and crappie are too smart to hang around after a bright beam of light hits them.
After a little effort and even lesser results, we concluded that it might not have been such a great idea. We were beginning to wonder why we did not leave when we were at the truck.
Suddenly, at the bottom of the lake in front of us, we were faced with the largest blue gill bream we had ever seen. Now it is possible that the clear water that was about 10 feet deep was magnifying the size, but it was still big. We decided it would be a shame to not attempt to capture this record size fish.
We leaned forward from the front edge of the deck. I was reaching with the gig and The CB was aiming with the light. I was holding the gig as if I was pitching a softball underhanded (Or sliding one of those Olympic Curling rock things). The gig was only 12 feet long, so I was leaning and reaching pretty far. We were drifting ever closer to our prize.
At the perfect time, I thrust the gig with all my might. The problem now was that we were leaning so far that when I lunged forward, the boat shot straight back and we were now doing a swan dive off the front deck of the boat. Come to find out there is something to that action-reaction math equation.
I bobbed to the surface just in time to see Allan swimming toward the bank about 20 feet away. I soon followed and was able to crawl up on the bank and catch my breath. After a few minutes of debating whose fault it was, I accepted that responsibility and waded back in to swim for the boat that was now about 50 yards away.
After getting the boat back to the bank and picking him up, we positioned the boat over the action area. The light was still shining but it was about 10 feet deep down on the bottom.
I stared at him for a minute but agreed it could have possibly been more my fault than his. So, I dove back in and retrieved the light and gig. We decided that the fun had worn off of this trip, so we headed for the ramp, changed clothes, loaded up, and went home. We laughed and were thinking that someday we should write a book. We had no idea that a life of adventures was just beginning.
Lessons to learn:
- It was nice to have dry clothes to change into. See, we did learn something during the 70s, always pack an extra bag of clothes!
- Allan and I are excellent swimmers. If we weren’t, we would have never been prepared for all the “FUN” we had throughout the years. As a matter of fact, we would not have been able to survive some of those adventures. When you grow up fishing and playing along McHenry Creek like we did, being a great swimmer is a given.
- Teach your children/grandchildren to love the water and it begins with teaching them how to swim. If you are not sure how to teach them how to swim, call Allan and me, we will be glad to help. Now they will be able to live adventures of their own. We can even share some tips with them.
