Take A Kid Fishing

This is a noble mantra that is plastered throughout fishing magazines and is ritually cited at the end of a number of fishing shows.  It sounds good.  What can be better than a day on the water with a mini-you?  Before any of my kids were born, I pictured how it would be to share my passion for angling with them.  I'm sexist so the picture was generally of a little boy.  Detroit Tigers hat pulled tight and low over his eyes to guard from the sun, he'd sit next to me with fishing pole in hand.  All focus would be narrowed in on the end of that rod, and all conversation would revolve around the excitement of catching the next fish.  I'd look down at him with pride, and he'd look up at me wanting to make me proud.  It was going to be a beautiful moment between father and son. 

At the same time, I've always said that I wouldn't pressure my kids into fishing or any other sport or hobby.  I would support them in whatever interests they had.  The reality of it is, when Dad talks fishing, watches fishing, constantly tinkers with his fishing gear, and is gone on these mystical fishing adventures, the kids are naturally drawn to it.  My oldest son, Luke, was 3 last summer.  He started asking to come out on the river with me.  He seemed ready, so I came up with a plan to fish with him for a few hours one evening and then have my parents pick him up and let him sleep at their house while I stayed out to fish for cats.

I've heard that the key to any successful fishing trip with a kid is to stock up on snacks.  Luke and I stopped at the gas station on the way up to my parents' and picked up several kinds of candy and this sugary liquid called "Bug Juice."  This stuff made the whole trip for him.  Not because it tasted good, but because of the name.  I think he'd drink motor oil if they put it in a squirt bottle, covered it in cartoon spiders, and called it Bug Juice.

Luke was excited to drive the boat, so I put him on my lap and let him feel like he had full control of the great vessel.  Once we were pointed into open water, I let him push the throttle forward and more or less steer us up river.  I stopped at the first spot and helped him cast his Spiderman rod out.  I was so into this being a trip all about Luke, I even kept myself from fishing with my own rods and reels.  The line wasn't out for more than a few minutes before Luke declared, "I don't think this is a very good spot.  We better move."  "Really?  Okay."  Out came the half drowned worm, up came the anchor, and off we went.  I picked another spot that was a pretty good producer and got us all set up again.  "I don't think this is a very good spot.  We better move."  I was sensing a pattern.  "Why do you want to move again, Luke?"  "Dad, I don't really want to catch a fish."  "What's that?"

You know all of that mumbo jumbo about not pressuring my kids into becoming master anglers?  I was finding that easier said than done right at that moment.  Somehow, I was able to reach deep inside and not allow myself to get stuck there for too long.  I realized that Luke's favorite part about coming out on the river was driving the boat.  Sitting in one place must have felt pretty boring to him when he compared it to captaining the ship.  Out came the half drowned worm, up came the anchor, and off we went.  If this was an episode of Super Nanny it would be time to roll the credits as she squeezed into the back of her little car feeling all good about herself.  The ignorant parent had finally realized what a fool he had been and he had changed his evil ways.

I always wonder what really happens after the Super Nanny crew leaves those families.  I'm pretty sure that they all fall apart again within a few days, maybe a few hours.  I got it, Luke would rather drive the boat than sit in one place.  I let him.  You would expect that he would be just as happy as he could be.  Instead he got mad because we were going too slow.  "Go ahead and open it up, boy."  Pretty soon we were going too fast.  "C'mon, buddy.  Let's go ahead and get back down by the bridge and you can take a break and drink your Bug Juice."  "I've got to pee."

Throttle down, shorts down, hang him over the edge.  Like his dad, the boy gets the stage fright.  Everything has to be just right to get the stream flowing.  I guess spinning down a river with his dad hoisting him over dirty water wasn't Luke's idea of "just right."  I looked around the boat and my eyes landed on the Bug Juice bottle.  Luke wouldn't have any of it.  Finally, I had to get out my tupperware container that usually holds my cut bait.  I figured the flatties might like a little salt flavoring on their sucker backstraps that night.  This larger container allowed Luke to finally relax enough to flip that psychological pee switch.  We were both pretty relieved.

We finally made it back down between the bridge and the launch.  Our new plan was to use Luke's fishing pole to catch some suckers for Dad to use later in the night.  "Dad, I have to poop."  "Where's my cell phone?  I'm pretty sure that Grandma is ready to pick you up."

Take a kid fishing, but don't get too set on fishing.  Be ready for anything.  Despite my depiction of that evening, we really did have fun and Luke still talks about it.  Somewhere in there, he caught his first catfish.  It was a tiny little channel cat that jabbed me in the hand with its spine when I went to release it.  My hand swelled a little bit and itched for the rest of the night.

Just the other day, Luke asked me when we could go back out in Grandpa's boat.  "Really, you want to go fishing again?"  "Yeah, I want some of that Bug Juice."