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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.
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Threaded Mode