Blue Gill Magic

There is something magical about catching a fish when you are an eight year old boy. Some of my most vivid and cherish memories from childhood revolve around fishing. As a boy I went up to Indian River every summer and we fished just about every day. Sometimes just us kids would sit on the bridge and cast our lines into the channel, and at other times my father would take us out in the boat. Going in the boat was, of course, the most exciting. Not sure whether it was the boat or because Dad was taking us out - mostly because Dad was there I think. At any rate I recall two magical fishing trips with Dad in that little boat. One involved catching a couple of good sized pike. One bit Dad's hand and there was a lot of blood (this was both cool and dangerous, how awesome!). We put the fish on the stringer, and Dad started the engine and off we went. Unfortunately he forgot to move the stringer first (our pike became instant, bite-sized turtle food). The other time was fishing with Dad, my brother and my Grandmother's boyfriend, Bob (who was like a Grandpa to me). It was in the evening and we were bobber fishing for Rock Bass. No lie, we caught a fish on just about every cast. I still have that picture of me holding all of those fish looking like the conqueror of the known world.

Well, last week I took Grant fishing. We were up at Petoskey and I was determined to find a few Blue Gill for the kids to catch. As it turned out, only Grant was able to put some fish on the stringer. And it was a very interesting experience. The lake (more like big pond really) that we found had no boat launch to speak of. We just pulled the truck to the side of the road and slid the boat in the water (visions of grumpy DNR officers were dancing through my head as we climbed in the little boat). The water was so shallow that my oars hit bottom. We were literally in about 8" of water. Have you ever tried rowing a 12' boat in 8" of water? What a work out! Well, we finally get to some deeper water with good weed cover and Grant starts catching fish. First a very small bass (no kidding, smaller than the jitterbug crank bait I was using). We had a good laugh over that fish before tossing him back. And then Grant started catching Blue Gill - and one or two were decent sized ("huge" according to Grant). He caught 7 or 8 fish that night, while Dad caught all of 2! (Nothing a boy loves doing more than showing up his Dad...)

My guess is that Grant will always remember that night. The magic has nothing to do with the fish, of course, it's all about a boy and his Dad (who is still his hero) going on a grand adventure and coming home as victorious warriors carrying the spoils of battle. It's about a boy becoming a man, one Blue Gill at a time.