My father was never a big fisherman in my lifetime, we did fish togeather some when my brother and I were in the 10 to 15 year old range. Dad worked 6.5 days a week, self employed, so time off was limited. However, we did have a boat on the North River and spent many Sunday afternoons having family picnics at "the spit". Dad still doesn't fish often, plays golf. At 86 he grumbles if he doesn't get out 3 times a week. I should mention both Mom and Dad are going strong,for 86, and still self sufficient.
My fishing memories are with my grandfather, he loved to fish. Haddoc was king. I think our best day ever was when I was about 16 or 17. He called right after I got home from school, complaining we hadn't be fishing lately and when are we going to go. I said how about now. It wasn't the best weather, drizzly and foggy, but we went. Got the boat at Mary's and headed downriver. It was much to foggy to venture "outside" so we picked a spot along the bank accross from the spit. It was a full tide with plenty of water. We anchored, as the boat was straightening out the first fish hit my line dangling about 2 feet in the water. There was a huge school of pollac in the mouth and they were hungry. We pulled in fish till we just couldn't any more. Feed the whole neighborhood that day. Back then no one had ever heard of catch and release, but most fish that went home were used. That was over 40 years ago, but I can still see that first fish hitting. There were many other trips with great memories, but for some reason this one sticks in my memory. Gramp has been gone since '65 we all miss him and remember him fondly. I'l bet if you ask my brother or my cousins, they all could relate a similar story. Thanks Gramp
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