Summer Fishing Story #2

Catching a Six Foot Sucker

Have you ever had one of those days when you realize that the story afterwards is going to much more interesting than making it through the event?

A friend of mine, being recently reintroduced to the sport of fishing, was very anxious to try his hand at catching a battle fish. One of those fish that will strike your line and give you a fight to remember. We had tried on a few earlier occasions to meet up and ply the waters in my canoe to catch fish. Finally, after a few times that schedules didn’t align, we got out on a lake when only pan fish were in season. We caught a few fish, but a rain storm rolled in on a very cool day before we could get too far into our outing, causing us to quit earlier than expected. It wasn’t until a few weeks later, after the sport fish seasons had opened before we could free up time to try again.

Wouldn’t it be our luck that on the day of our fishing adventure, the clouds open up and start a soft rain? My fishing partner calls up as work is ending to find out if we are still going to fish. Since the weather was warmer, I informed him that only high winds or lightening would keep me off the water and the choice to continue was his. Being a real trooper, he decided that now was as good a time as ever to take to fishing.

With the canoe on the car, we drove nearly an hour away to a known hot spot and readied ourselves for our attempt at catching northern pike. As we got onto the water, I ran through the explanations on how to use my favorite lure for pike, a spinner bait of a coloring that I find unique. He quickly picked up the technique of casting, and started to work on the intricacies of bringing it through the water. I slowly paddled us through areas where I had caught fish in the past hoping that I could see the indication of a fish strike on the tip of his pole. I held my fishing to a minimum as I paddled and kept an eye on his rod tip to be ready to help him. All the while, I keep talking through all the things that need to happen once a fish hits the lure.



While the rain slowly falls from the sky and the wind seems to have vanished, we finally make it to a shore line with a good looking weed edge with lily pads. I point out casts for him to take and explain the reasons why I would make the cast, all to help him learn some of the things that rattle around my head as I am fishing. Finally, he gets rewarded with a fish striking his lure. But the hook set was not to be, and we have to continue on to find our first fish. Thankfully, that was only a couple of casts later when a decent sized fish takes his lure and line on the hook up. As he gets his first sport fish battle in the proverbial, “I can’t tell you how long”, in to the canoe for a picture, we discover it is a nice largemouth bass, an accidental catch, but a good one. We continue on for repeat experiences since they really are a rush. I am sure that any fisherman will tell you it is addicting. And sure enough, he gets a few more repeat performances.



As he starts to bring fish into the canoe, I start to increase the amount of fishing that I am doing. We slowly drift over water with varying depths, searching for some northern pike to add to our fish count. In a short time, I hook up with a tiny northern, one that slams the lure like it is ten times bigger than it is. This encounter is quickly followed up by a northern from the front seat fisherman. By this time, we had thoroughly fished the cove we started in, and I decide to take us through the small channel that leads into the main lake. Our excitement increases as we think of bigger fish that could be lurking just in front of us. Within minutes, I have another strike that turns out to be another small pike. Once it gets to the canoe, I grab it out of the water to remove it from my line.

Since I was doing my best to keep the fishing aspect of this adventure on my fishing partner, I was watching what he was doing as I readied myself to take this fish off my line. But one millisecond of inattention is all that is needed for a fish to squirm, trying to get away. In that instant, the pike slipped out of my grip. But the force of the twitch and the falling action of the fish provide just enough bad luck for the lure that is still in the fish to become imbedded into my right hand, just below the first knuckle of my thumb.

This causes a problem as now the lure is attached to both the fish and me. I need to take the fish off the lure, to try and attend to the hook in my hand, but I am right handed and basically need a third hand. With a little maneuvering, I manage to get the fish off. All this time, my front seat fisherman is asking what needs to be done. Since he can’t do much to help me, I have him keep fishing while I try to remove myself from the lure. The unfortunate part is that there was no way it was coming out without help. So we call it quits again, early for the second time.

Once on shore, I find that my fishing buddy, although sympathetic to my condition, has no desire to try yanking the lure out of my thumb. The only thing left to do is teach him how to load all of the equipment into my car and tie down the canoe so that I can take the trip into town for a visit to the Urgent Care facility. He then must turn into the chauffeur as I make the attempt of finding a facility open at our time of night. We make it just before closing time for me to fill out papers with a Rapala interfering with the pen. Of course all the nurses want to take a peak once I am given the walk back to a room. A little local anesthetic a few small incisions, and the lure is no longer a part of my hand. Thankfully my friend was a good sport through the final stage of our adventure. And I got to have the vaunted recognition of being the first hooked patient at the Urgent Care for this fishing season.


The Six Foot Sucker