Why Do You Do It?
If you're like me you do some of your best thinking while the outboard motor hums in the background. Many of life's problems have been solved while cruising at 3000 rpm. I often reflect on things while I'm on the water, not just fishing related but life in general. For many of us fishing is life; it's what we do and who we are, we love it that much. It's difficult to put into words how your time on the water affects you and even more difficult to fully explain it to the average person because time spent on the water means different things to different people. Time on the water also means different things as you grow older, the evolution of the angler starts with you.
On an uncomfortably cold January morning many years ago I started down the road to my love affair with saltwater fishing. I had been a freshwater guy all my life and I already had a deep appreciation for the sport in general so the transition to saltwater was only natural, especially living so close to Sabine Lake. My neighbor and good friend Chris Gunn had convinced me that I needed to catch a redfish and we could catch them when it got really cold. I figured if it was a shot so I tagged along. After a bone-chilling ride down the Sabine River in an aluminum boat with the structural integrity of a spaghetti noodle we reached the chosen destination. It felt great to stop because the instant sensation of warmth coupled with the excitement of a new challenge helped to get the blood flowing back into my extremities. Chris and I were both armed with half-ounce Rat-l-traps. I was certainly familiar with the lure from my days on Toledo Bend and Sam Rayburn so the comfort factor was bumped a notch. It didn't take long to see what the fuss was all about, I can close my eyes today and see the monofilament cutting a direct arc through the water as it peeled from my Abu Garcia. I had never experienced the power much less the thunderous jolt of the strike. I also was hooked and didn't know it.
Events that are that significant in one's life are not easily dismissed nor should they be; they should be revisited often to bring back the smile and glimpse of the past. These experiences shape us as fishermen and outdoor enthusiasts whether or not we realized it at the time. Events such as the first time you caught a fish with a particular lure or possibly the first time you caught a certain species often come to mind. My original encounters with bonefish and snook are a couple of my favorites. These episodes leave lasting marks and, like good wine, just get better with age.
I, like many of our readers, have progressed along the angling path to a point where I now no longer judge the quality of the outing by the amount of fish in the cooler or the game in the bag. Now the opportunity to share knowledge with others far outweighs the individual accomplishment. Don't get me wrong, I still like to go out and "beat 'em up" every once in a while but that's no longer the driving factor it once was. Being able to throw down a cooler full of fish so I could strut along the dock and beat my chest was once standard operating procedure, but now seems like a distant memory. I acquire as much or more satisfaction from helping others learn and excel at the sport as I do by doing it myself. It's a far greater feeling to coach someone to catch a fish than it is to catch one myself. Please don't read anything into that statement as coming off high and mighty, I honestly get a bigger thrill out of helping someone catch a fish because I know I have helped make a memory that will last a long time.
The success of the angler should never be measured in the amount of filets they freeze or fish they kill. Some of my absolute best days on the water had nothing to do with the amount of fish we brought to the dock. One in particular that comes to mind was an early fall trip to scout an area to fish with clients the next day with Capt. Dickie Colburn. Dickie has been a great friend to me and has shared an incredible amount of knowledge that I likely may have never gained on my own. We were fishing some deep water in the Sabine River and I was getting a lesson from best guy out there so regardless if we caught fish or not the day was a huge success. We managed to pin down a herd of redfish that had taken up residence along an extended point, it was absolutely ridiculous how many fish we caught and we never kept the first one. The fellowship during the trip along with the knowledge acquired easily made that day one I will never forget.
The fishing trips have changed through the years, the techniques come and go, but much remains the same. The sound of the trailer winch as I launch, the first bark of the outboard in pre-dawn darkness, idling from the dock toward a chosen spot where in my mind the fish will be plentiful and cooperative; these never change. Good friends, new acquaintances and others are always part of the equation. The common denominator among almost all I have had the pleasure of sharing time with on the water is a true fondness for the sport and that genuine feeling that fishermen share with one another. I hope you take a little time to reflect on how good the sport has been to you and consider what your life may have been like without it. If you are like me that's hard to do because it's all you ever knew from the time you were a kid, and to be completely honest, I would rather think about how much more fun I have left and how many more great memories I have yet to make.
On an uncomfortably cold January morning many years ago I started down the road to my love affair with saltwater fishing. I had been a freshwater guy all my life and I already had a deep appreciation for the sport in general so the transition to saltwater was only natural, especially living so close to Sabine Lake. My neighbor and good friend Chris Gunn had convinced me that I needed to catch a redfish and we could catch them when it got really cold. I figured if it was a shot so I tagged along. After a bone-chilling ride down the Sabine River in an aluminum boat with the structural integrity of a spaghetti noodle we reached the chosen destination. It felt great to stop because the instant sensation of warmth coupled with the excitement of a new challenge helped to get the blood flowing back into my extremities. Chris and I were both armed with half-ounce Rat-l-traps. I was certainly familiar with the lure from my days on Toledo Bend and Sam Rayburn so the comfort factor was bumped a notch. It didn't take long to see what the fuss was all about, I can close my eyes today and see the monofilament cutting a direct arc through the water as it peeled from my Abu Garcia. I had never experienced the power much less the thunderous jolt of the strike. I also was hooked and didn't know it.
Events that are that significant in one's life are not easily dismissed nor should they be; they should be revisited often to bring back the smile and glimpse of the past. These experiences shape us as fishermen and outdoor enthusiasts whether or not we realized it at the time. Events such as the first time you caught a fish with a particular lure or possibly the first time you caught a certain species often come to mind. My original encounters with bonefish and snook are a couple of my favorites. These episodes leave lasting marks and, like good wine, just get better with age.
I, like many of our readers, have progressed along the angling path to a point where I now no longer judge the quality of the outing by the amount of fish in the cooler or the game in the bag. Now the opportunity to share knowledge with others far outweighs the individual accomplishment. Don't get me wrong, I still like to go out and "beat 'em up" every once in a while but that's no longer the driving factor it once was. Being able to throw down a cooler full of fish so I could strut along the dock and beat my chest was once standard operating procedure, but now seems like a distant memory. I acquire as much or more satisfaction from helping others learn and excel at the sport as I do by doing it myself. It's a far greater feeling to coach someone to catch a fish than it is to catch one myself. Please don't read anything into that statement as coming off high and mighty, I honestly get a bigger thrill out of helping someone catch a fish because I know I have helped make a memory that will last a long time.
The success of the angler should never be measured in the amount of filets they freeze or fish they kill. Some of my absolute best days on the water had nothing to do with the amount of fish we brought to the dock. One in particular that comes to mind was an early fall trip to scout an area to fish with clients the next day with Capt. Dickie Colburn. Dickie has been a great friend to me and has shared an incredible amount of knowledge that I likely may have never gained on my own. We were fishing some deep water in the Sabine River and I was getting a lesson from best guy out there so regardless if we caught fish or not the day was a huge success. We managed to pin down a herd of redfish that had taken up residence along an extended point, it was absolutely ridiculous how many fish we caught and we never kept the first one. The fellowship during the trip along with the knowledge acquired easily made that day one I will never forget.
The fishing trips have changed through the years, the techniques come and go, but much remains the same. The sound of the trailer winch as I launch, the first bark of the outboard in pre-dawn darkness, idling from the dock toward a chosen spot where in my mind the fish will be plentiful and cooperative; these never change. Good friends, new acquaintances and others are always part of the equation. The common denominator among almost all I have had the pleasure of sharing time with on the water is a true fondness for the sport and that genuine feeling that fishermen share with one another. I hope you take a little time to reflect on how good the sport has been to you and consider what your life may have been like without it. If you are like me that's hard to do because it's all you ever knew from the time you were a kid, and to be completely honest, I would rather think about how much more fun I have left and how many more great memories I have yet to make.