Outstanding story's guy!
Ponce, I especially enjoyed yours and know your story all to well. My chapters may have been located on different waters, but they started at childhood while the most recent include celebrating with my boys.
Not the Fish but The Three Days that keep me going to the water.
It was the 3rd of Oct. 1997 and my brother was coming from Great Bridge for a weekend of solid fishing on the Upper James River for smallmouth. He arrived Friday evening giving us time to gather everything for the next two days. Saturday we were on the river at daylight exploring every channel, rapid and deep hole looking for that five pounder every fisherman wish for on any given day. We had many solid fish that day, just not the one. If you haven't experienced river smallmouth, you wouldn't understand what its like to set the hook on a nice fish. Imagine cranking in smaller ones that run and fight to the hand then a solid fish, like setting the hook in a stump that has a delay before you get movement. We manage to get off the water that Saturday before dark, headed home, grabbed a bite and visited with our mom who was also in town for another event.
Day two started as day one early and the fish were hungry. The James was in excellent condition running 2'-3' and clear with cool morning air warming up as the day grew to noon. Fish after fish with a few solid hook sets as we continued down river in my little canoe, pitching anchor or pullin up on a rock making time to wade a stretch that needed to be hit hard.
That evening we fired up the grill, grabbed a couple of well earned beers and sat down to pound and a half steaks we used to eat in those days. The tally for the Sunday of fishing was six over four pounds and my brothers catch had similar results , this was a remarkable day by our standards and has yet to be topped.
Later that evening as we were sending our mom on her, things got interesting. My mom was here for a baby shower. Karen was very pregnant with five weeks to go and she ask our mom, "if Todd calls you tonight, will you turn back from your four hour trip home and come back?" She said, "yes" as we all laughed and said goodbye. I was in total need of rest and headed to bed quickly falling asleep Around Midnight, Karen has a new idea. Yes, my mom came back and later that morning Nolan was brought into the world. My last day before becoming a dad, spent on the water has never been topped by any fishing measurement... it just seems average compared to the days I spend now with my three boys... Monday Oct. 6th 1997... Sunday Nov. 21st, 1999... Satuday March 9th, 2002.. the three days that keep me going back to the water. Netman
Rizz … THAT is one of the coolest videos I have ever seen on any site at any time. How cool is it that you got that moment on video back in the 90's???!!! I love it. I about came through the screen of my computer when that slob came loose on the gaff!
Thanks for posting this.
My story will follow shortly.
Legasea, Little Tooth, czoubek,... Its all just Nauti Natured
For those that know me, ya'll know I'm and inshore light tackle guy. Here's the story about how I became obsessed with the salt!
It was the spring of 1986, we had moved from Illinois to Virginia. We fished that summer and fall and my dad did some research and bought a 21' proline with a 140 Johnson outboard as our fishing platform. We learned some areas to fish and were moderately successful. Later that year we learned of large bluefish taking up residence on our local flats. We had never fished the flats, and were a little nervous about fishing in 3 and 4 foot of water. The nervousness ended when we found the fish! We caught several bluefish every time out. We caught them trolling, we caught them casting, we caught them drifting, heck we even made our own lures to catch them. Needless to say for two freshwater guys, going out and catching 6lb-8lb fish every cast was epic! That's what got my love of the salt started, but you asked about a particular fish.
In the spring of 1987, (at the age of 14) I saved up my money and bought a 6' shimano bullwhip fishing rod and a 2500 shimano baitrunner spinning reel. I put 8lb berkley trilene XT line on the reel.
It was a Saturday, much like every other spring Saturday, my dad and I were going fishing. This day felt different though. We went to the flats and started casting and catching blues. I was using my new combo and it was doing good. Then the moment that created a passion happened.
I casted the 3/8 ounce gator spoon as far as I could and about the time it hit the water, the fish struck. I set the hook and the drag started screaming. This fish was different. It fought harder and ran harder than other fish I had caught that day, and was giving me all I wanted on my 6' medium action Bullwhip rod. After what seemed like a half hour, but probably was like 6 minutes the fish hit the net. It was a 30 inch bluefish that weighed 10.2 lbs.
Now this fish would seem insignificant to most anglers nowadays, but for me, it was the first time I caught a fish that weighed more than the line rating I was using. I had caught a 10.2lb bluefish on 8lb line. I thought that was cool. It also changed me. It made me realize that one didn't need heavy tackle to catch fish and that big fish could be landed on smaller tackle.
April 1987 - That's when I became a light tackle enthusiast, and its also when I got hooked on the salt.
Last edited by Hollybrooke; 08-03-11 at 08:06 AM.
This is a picture of my wife and her first Mahi on our first offhsore trip together in 2007. We had a choppy ride out and she was not thrilled about it to say the least. She was sunbathing on the bow when it hit. I still have never seen anyone make it to the rods like she did with the expectation of a tasty dinner. It hit a blue/chartreuse ilander/hoo on the 4th wave at 6 kts at the 14 bouy in May 2007.
Last edited by tankerfly; 08-07-11 at 01:41 PM.
Fin Hunter, that was on the "Harriett L", Terrell's old boat. We never did go out with his dad. But from what I remember, those two boats did look a lot alike.
I agree with Todd, great stories guys. And rizz, that video was off the hook.
While I have been fishing since I could walk on 2 legs, catching everything from trout and small mouth in the rivers up in the mountains to crappie, bass, and catfish in the lakes around central NC when we moved in the early 80's. I had never been offshore fishing before. I had been on a boat while in Myrtle Beach SC that pulled some baits up and down the beach, but we did more beer drinking than fishing that day and I think all that was caught that day was a couple of fat alberts, I didn't even reel in a fish.
My first offshore fishing trip, and I mean REAL fishing trip was on May 20th 2007. A friend named Wade Snipes asked if I wanted to go as a guest with the Hillsborough Sportfishing Club on a trip to Morehead City. I turned him down. A few weeks later he asked again saying they needed one more guy and I said what the hell, I will give it a try. We arrive in MHC that Friday afternoon and we go to find the boat that we would be fishing on the next morning. We find a empty slip where the RUN OFF is usually parked and minutes later we see the boat coming in. After they unload a few dozen nice mahi, we introduce ourselves to Capt. Brian and our mate John. (Johnboy27) The next morning we head out in some snotty seas and I started feeling a little green inside the cabin so I go outside and talk to John while he stands at the baittray rigging baits. I ask questions about what we will be doing that day and he answers every question with patience and professionalism like I am sure he had done hundreds of times before. After a couple of hours the engine backs down and John starts getting the lines out. We were amazed at how fast he moved around the boat when it was all we could do to stand up with out holding on to something. It didn't take long to start catching some nice gaffers and I couldn't wait to get in that chair. My time finally came and John handed me the rod and told me to CRANK! I had watched the other guys reel there fish in and they didn't seem to have a hard a time as I was having. Not wanting to seem weak, I kept cranking that reel even though my arm was quickly turning in to jelly. Then Capt. B yells down from up top "you have to crank sweet pea!" Oh man! Did he just call me out? Are you kidding? Adrenaline kicks in and I double time the reeling and soon John gaffs a nice YFT (46.8 lbs) if I remember correctly and puts him on the deck. After a few pictures and some high fives, I look up at the Capt. who gives me a thumbs up and a big smile. We ended up with 24 nice mahi and 2 yft's that day. But I was the biggest thing that got hooked that day. I booked another trip when we got back to the dock and me and 5 of my friends were back on the RUN OFF the next month for the start of what is now a annual trip for us. Five years and a dozen or so trips later, I am still hooked on it. I have caught my first Wahho, BFT, Amberjack, and dozens of bottom feeders since then. Now I look forward to taking my sons on their first off shore trip, and I hope it has the same effect on them.
Just get him on, then we'll worry about gettin him in!
I grew up fishing the pond behind my house but catching bass and bream left something to be desired. My dad bought a boat to keep at the beach house and we used to fish it but we never got out of the sight of land so blues, spanish, and black sea bass was all we got. Better and more fun than fishing the pond bank but still left something to be desired. In 1972 a friend of my dad's invited me, my dad, and my middle brother to go "offshore" on his 50 ft. Hatteras. It was a warm November Saturday and the forecast was for 4 ft seas. We headed out of Southport to fish around Frying Pan Tower. My dad and brother got sick before we got out of the shipping channel so they never came outside the cabin for fear they could not get back to the head in time. It was a pounding ride out but we finally made it. We got the lines in the water and I looked around and thought the waves were the biggest 4 footers I had ever seen. The only time I could see the tower was when we were on top of a wave. NOTE: The forecasters are just as bad today as they were then.
The first fish I caught was a bonita which I thought was pretty cool because it fought better than anything I had ever caught. But this was not enough to get me hooked. A while later another rod went off and I grabbed it. After a grueling 15 minute fight with the fish and trying to stay on the boat in rough seas I got an Amberjack around 50 lbs up next to the boat. As one of the crew gaffed the fish in the head I was leaning over checking it out and up from the deep came a big shark and ate my fish except for the head. This was the fish that got me hooked on saltwater fishing and all I got was the head.
I REALLY APPRECIATE THE FEW STORIES THAT HAVE BEEN SHARED WITH US HERE...HOWEVER, IT BLOWS MY MIND AS TO HOW FEW OF STORIES ARE POSTED WITH OVER 1,4000 VIEWS....
NEVERLESS, THE CONTEST CONTINUES ...
ANYONE NOTICE IN THE VIDEO BY RIZZOADS OF THE BLACK PLATE SENATOR WITH WIRELINE AND THE TROLLING BAR? YOU DON'T SEE WIRE LINE RODS ANYMORE....USUALLY THE REEL WAS FILLED WITH 80# MONEL TARGETING WAHOO....I LOVED THE VIDEO! IT WAS GOOD TO SEE CAPT. TERRELL GOULD COME FLYING OFF THE BRIDGE LIKE THAT!!! I DIDN'T REALIZE HE HAD THE MOVES LIKE THAT!
The fish that got it all started?
I really can't remember "The Fish" but what I do remember is the gift my father gave me by sharing his
love of fishing with me and the cast of charicters that he surrounded himself and me with as a boy.
So was "The fish" the brown trout I proudly yanked out of a stream in central PA (I have no idea the
name and location of the stream)? It is, after all, the 1st memory I have of fishing and I'm sure I was
about 4 years old. But it wasn't the fish. It was Dad and this giant (to me) of a man named Uncle Charlie
Young that made the memory. Like a lot of the men who Dad fished,hunted (and drank) with, Uncle Charlie Young wasn't an uncle,but those really close to Dad were given the honoraium Uncle and will ever be remebered that way.
Anyway , my memory of Uncle Charlie Young was a larger than life figure in hip boots and plaid shirt,
a cigar clenched in his teeth through with a contiuous chuckle eminated. For some reason I didn't understand then, Dad had a particular reverance for the man. Years later I came to find out that Uncle Charlie Younghad been with Dad in Okonowa in the spring of 1945. He was the only Marine buddy Dad stayed in contact with after the war and was Dad's 1st customer when he got into the insurance business, even though he lived 200 miles away from us. Uncle Charlie Young died at an early age when I was 9.Dad and I were both crushed.
More "charicters" and fish to come.
Last edited by rbrdogs; 08-14-11 at 09:59 AM.