Is It Worth the Cost?

When I was very young I would go fishing with my dad and his friend, Gary Heckendorn, in their 1976 model 16’ Ouachita Spirit 90. They had gone in together to buy it because neither one of them could afford the monthly payments on their own. Dad said that my mom and Gary’s wife, Loa, were pissed when they found out! I can remember drifting the back edge of the deep hole in Moses Lake while chunking 3/4-ounce gold Kastmaster spoons and Johnson Sprites at small redfish slicks that would pop up along a deep drop-off that was littered with clams and small black mussels. To be completely honest, dad and Gary had me rigged up with a popping cork and live shrimp while they chunked hardware. I was probably five or six years old at the time. I’ll never forget when my cork disappeared. “Daddy! I’ve got a fish! I’ve got a really big fish!” I begged him to help me reel it in but with some coaching, he made me do it myself. That big black drum gave my Zebco 202 a workout that morning.

Two local fishing legends, my great Uncle BB Hillman and Gut Gutierrez had perfected the art of locating and catching those redfish. They were just as good at catching trout. My dad is a phenomenal fisherman in his own right but I think he learned a great deal from those guys, too. I know I certainly did. As I got older I learned to listen more closely to how they did what they did as well as their incredible big trout stories. I remember when Uncle BB was no longer with us how much I regretted not asking him more questions about “the good ole days.” At the time I guess I figured everything would stay the same and the great fishing would last forever.

There was another morning when me, dad, and my pawpaw were in pawpaw’s old Renken drifting a mud flat along the ship channel at first light, throwing Kelly Wiggler shrimp tails (tout tails back then) and Bingos. I still have visions in my mind of that four pound trout going airborne as the sun barely broke the horizon and the distinct smell of watermelon in the air. I also remember almost crying because I lost that trout. As a youngster my emotions ran high when it came to fishing. There was so much satisfaction in landing a fish; but there was also unbelievable heartache when I didn’t. I don’t know how many solid specks we caught that morning and I had no clue what the limit was at the time. The numbers were irrelevant but the memories I made with my dad and my pawpaw are burned into my brain forever.

Around the beginning of my guiding career a young man from Idaho booked a two-day fly fishing trip with me for him and his dad. It was extremely windy the first day and success using fly rods proved to be challenging. I used my conventional rod and reel and had no problem catching trout and reds, however. I all but begged Kurt and his dad to come stand beside me so they could get in on the action but they seemed to be content keeping their distance despite their lackluster results. The wind gave us a break on the second day and the fishing was much better. Once again, however, they wouldn’t wade over when I was on fish. They caught some, but I was a bit perplexed and maybe even a little disappointed that they pretty much hung out away from me in their own little world.

At the end of our trip I pulled up to the marina and Kurt’s father was a little tired so he headed straight for the truck. Kurt handed me my check and said, “Captain Steve, I know that me and my dad could’ve caught more fish had we spent more time by your side or used conventional gear, but you need to know something. My dad has brain cancer and the doctors only give him a couple of more months to live. He started taking me fly fishing when I was a little boy and those memories are the ones I cherish the most. We got to relive some of those memories the past two days and I sincerely thank you for that. This may be the last time I get to fish with my dad.” I cried the entire way home that day.

Years ago, in a satirical video, comedian Jeff Foxworthy broke down the cost per pound of venison after calculating all of the expenses involved. It was absolutely hilarious when he arrived at his total cost of $162.00 per pound and said, “See honey! I’m providing the most expensive meat on the planet for you and the kids!” As humorous as this is, it’s true. I think he did that video around 20 years ago. Using today’s prices for hunting leases, deer feed, travel, processing, etc., it would probably be closer to $200.00 per pound. Anyone who claims that they’re hunting to provide meat for the family is either lying or just flat out lousy at math. Our ancestors from 12,000 years ago were hunter-gatherers. Let’s be honest. We just hunt for fun.

When our speckled trout limits for the entire Texas Coast were reduced (on March 26, 2024) from five fish to three per person I heard some folks talk about how it just wasn’t worth the cost to book a professional guide anymore. “It’s just not worth the money if we can only keep three trout.” I’ve said it many times, “If you’re hungry go to H-E-B!” I’ve never claimed to be a math wizard but if you’re booking a fishing trip for food then I’m pretty sure that math isn’t going to work. It doesn’t work at the current limits. It didn’t work when the limit was five or even when it was ten trout per angler. We don’t even have to consider the cost of booking a guide when proving that the math doesn’t work. Just look at what bay boats cost these days, then figure in insurance, storage, maintenance, etc. Most of us love to eat fresh trout (even at $60.00 per pound) but at the end of the day that’s not why we go fishing.

For those who are measuring the cost of a fishing trip in pounds of fillets you may want to rethink things. Throughout all of my years fishing and hunting I can honestly say that I’ve never needed venison, ducks or speckled trout to feed my family. Do I love to eat them? Absolutely! But what I really needed was to watch my little girl (who’s now twenty-two) catch her first trout and the beautiful smile that came across her face when she did. I needed that time spent in a deer blind with my dad when I was four years old and the day he taught me how to work a tout tail. I needed all of those days on the water helping others become better anglers. I needed their friendship and some of them needed mine. I needed to be humbled by a son and his father who chose to fish with me so they could relive their fondest memories together one last time. The math may not work but it’s worth the cost when you can see the true value.