The boys have come with me the most. They are something. Lincoln does not stop moving. Luke wants to catch fish right now or he's lying on the bottom of the boat declaring this "the worst fishing trip ever!" It has been a challenge, but I've got them off to a good start and I keep telling them that they already know more about fishing than I probably did when I was a teenager. I make promises to them that they will one day be much better anglers than their old man. Luke usually perks up at the thought of it.
An average day in years gone by might mean that I bring the boat with me to work and leave early for a long day and night on the river. I'd spend most of the daylight hours drifting and casting for smallies and pike, making sure to spend enough time anchored and fishing with worms to stock up on plenty of bait. Now I'm working a full day and then going home and taking at least an hour to get them and the gear all ready for an evening on the water. This means that I finally hit the river by about 6:00. I've been trying to keep a stock of gills and chubs, so catching bait isn't such an issue once I'm on the river.
On a recent trip I got them all set up with peanut M & M's and Bug Juice so that they could keep busy while I did a little drifting and casting. They had their candy and juice gone before I had made 5 casts and were immediately complaining that they couldn't fish. I held them off for a little bit, but ended up giving in pretty quick because their whiny little voices were killing my fishing buzz. We anchored and Luke had a chance to fish with his new fishing pole. I had a line out and he had his line out. The fishing gods were frowning on the poor little guy that evening, because I was getting bites on my rod something like 10 times to his 1. Down to the bottom of the boat he went, muttering angrily that his dad is a better fisherman than him. My interventions started out real patient. I told him that fishing just goes that way sometimes and that it had nothing to do with how good he was. I even let him reel in my fish for me a few times. His bad luck persisted and so did the whining. After awhile I got sick of it and growled at him that real fisherman don't cry, they're patient. I'm sure that he'll cling to that little nugget of truth.
The cat fishing has been pretty tough. We got skunked after dark a few times. All of those were declared "the worst night ever." The boys do light up when a flattie does get on the line. A week or 2 ago we got into them. The rods got slapped a few times and we whiffed on some fish. Finally as a party barge was moving up river past us with loud Spanish music blasting, we got a hit. I sunk the hook into a heavy fish. I was able to let Luke feel the fight. It was a spunky little 11 pounder. We landed 2 cats that night, but no monsters.
I haven't mentioned Lincoln much, but that's because he's usually off in la-la land. He's messing with the bait in the livewell, slamming the lid, playing with my gadgets, messing with the ice in the cooler and leaving the lid off, screaming at the top of his lungs, and generally making way too much noise. I had to instate a whispering rule the last time out. When he finally winds down at around 11:00, he wants to sit on my lap. Luke usually gravitates to us and is hanging on my right arm. This is the definition of claustrophobia for me. I'm left looking at my rods helplessly, thinking, "If a rod gets hit, one of these boys is probably going to end up in the river."
We do have fun, though. There's a lot of joking and poking fun back and forth. Snacks and cold drinks galore. Luke asks a lot of questions and I can tell that he's catching on. Get him fishing for gills with a bobber and he looks like a little pro. He's studying me and trying to catch on in any way possible. Lincoln's just glad that it's dark and he's not in bed. I put their pj's on them after I get the boat back on the trailer and they're both usually sleeping within minutes of hitting the road.
Hayden is just hungry for alone time with either of her parents. She seems to need these moments to feel special. I had the opportunity to take her out a couple of weeks ago. She ate up every minute of it. She enjoyed herself so much that I found it to be touching. She showed some interest in the fishing, but was more absorbed in the sounds that you hear on the river after dark. She made herself a little fort in the front of the boat and was even lying down and taking pictures of her feet at one point. I didn't ask any questions, I just went with it. She fretted that whole day about how she would go to the bathroom in the boat if nature came a calling. I offered a bucket, but she rejected it and told me that ladies don't pee in buckets. Okay. She ended up turning her fort into a make-shift outhouse and used a container that I usually use for cutbait. Whatever works, I guess. The best part of the night was when she made me cover my ears so that she could record a special message into my camera. She then played it back for me. She talked all about how she has the best daddy in the world and how much she loves me. Enough to make a surly old fisherman misty.Kids in the boat makes fishing tough. It's harder to move to a new spot, so I'm more prone to stay put. I definitely can't stay out as late. I'm probably missing out on some fish by bringing them. That's okay. I really think that these are important experiences and future memories for them. This will be part of that innocent and carefree past that they will someday long for. I'm honored to be a part of that.
