What or who

[MrsSFrances]

when i was younger i used to fish for sunfish in a local pond, my moms boyfriend use to take me too, then as i got a lil older i used to go trout fishing with the nieghbors...then i hit teenage years and stopped....

now my husband has gotten me into surf fishing, and i got addicted...the first time i got a bass, it was such a rush, and i was hooked ...no pun intended...lol...

i will go fish where ever my husband takes me, jetties, beach, surf...im there! never got to fish from a boat yet...

[Swimmer]

Once when I was a kid my father drove the family from the cottage on the bayside to the ocean side of the cape in Eastham to Coast Guard Beach. Just after we got there a guy walked off the beach with a large striper over his shoulder. This kid was with us whose parents owned a cottage near ours. He brought a boat rod with him and some sea worms. He makes a cast all of ten feet into the trough and a schoolie swims up to the sea worm and swallows it. That fish was hook and so was I. Anything that easy was for me. My first striper took quite a bit more doing than that my friends first one, but its all good.

Watch out for the dune monsters!

[Jimbo]

The influence or inspiration to fish was my grandfather who retired to the Cape and fished primarily the mid-Cape. He told me about the equipment, local species of fish, where he had caught bass before, and how to do everything, and my first rod, reel and tacklebox was given to me by an uncle whom I knew fished quite a bit, but wouldn't share experiences or fishing trips with until I was older. But the addiction began when I was about 10. I always had my own rowboat for the summer. Homemade, plywood skiff my grandfather would have freshly painted red and havewaiting for me just above the high tide mark on Bass River. One day I noticed upriver it seemed like there must have been a gust of wind disturbing the water. All of a sudden it hit me that they were fish feeding on something. So I rowed up against the current past them and drifted by casting a small plastic plug I had (like a striper swiper). Second time thru one hit, coming out of the water. I fought it just like I had been told and when I got it close enough grabbed it by the lip and laid it on the floor of the boat and admired it's color and stripes as it panted. I remember there was this charter guy, Sam Gale waiting on the dock when I got back. This fish was only 12-13" long, but he complimented me on my battle and shared in my good fortune and then encouraged me to let it go. I don't know if there were size limits or not in 1968, but that's when it really began for me.

[ragfly]

Self taught, I was a diehard sweetwater fly fisherman looking for something to do on a very hot summer day........ the rest is history.

[RIJIMMY]

Great thread, fishing has driven a lot of the direction in my life.
First, my name, anyone remember (or know) who James was in the bible? It was James the fisherman. That’s why my Dad named me that. He was and still is my biggest fishing influence. I grew up in Connecticut and my earliest memories are fishing for bass and blues in Milford. I remember seeing my first blitz, I was ony 5 or 6. I remember half eaten bunker flapping on the shore in Stratford. Miles of bunker beaching themselves from blues. We used to fish Charles Island Bar and snag bunker in Milford harbor. When I was @ 8, we started venturing up to RI. We camped at Burlingame park and went to Ctown breachway every weekend during the summer and fall. We fished for blackfish (never knew what the heck a tautog was), bass and blues. I remember one day, the breachway was packed on a sunny afternoon and my Dad and I were just watching the guys fish at the end of the breachway. It was packed with fisherman and onlookers. A guy hooked into a good bass and fought it up in the rocks. He was struggling and did not know what to do, he was going to lose the fish. My dad was pi$$ed and was swearing , “This SOB is going to lose that fish..blah balh.” He bolted down the rocks, into the waves, grabbed the fish by the gills and carried it back up. He did it in one swift motion. All the people were dumbfounded, my Dad had blood running down his arm and just walked up and gave the guy his fish and didnt say anything. It was funny, my Dad was my hero.
I got my first blue at Race Point beach when I was 9. I’ll never forget that. My first bass was at Quonny when I was 9 or 10. I eventually went to college in RI because I was familiar with the area due to all the time we spent fishing there . After school, I drifted away from fishing for awhile. My Dad got more serious about bass and became very successful in the late 80s and early 90’s. I eventually moved back , but he and my Mom moved to Florida. He has given me all of his equipment and much more valuable, a lot of his knowledge. We fished together a few times up here but he seemed to lose interest which was odd. I talk to him after every time I fish and he still yells at me if I do something dumb (I’m 35) and always gives me a “You should have tried here..” speech. I’d rather fish with him more than anyone. We barely talk when we fish but we are always thinking alike. Not to be a downer, but I received some bad news about my Dad’s health this year and it scares me that I may not have the opportunity to fish w/him or even talk to him after I fish. I owe a lot to him and enjoyed every time we ever fished, regardless of if we caught anything at all.