We have a boat. I think. It's blue, about 14 feet long, and just watertight enough to handle 2 people. It even has an engine...and can actually reach about 5 mph on a good run. But...hubby says it's a boat, and he loves going fishing in it every chance he gets.
Well, dear hubby got home off the road last night (or should I say this morning) at 1am, and after a little chitchat, we decided we were going fishing. Right then. As in "the worms and birds are still sleeping, but we're gonna drag our butts out onto the river in hopes that somewhere, the fish are feeling a might feisty" time of the day. Well, off we went...we actually were on the water before 5am (it does take a little time to get everything set up so that we can go out without sinking the boat from overload).
Now, I enjoy fishing. Give me a riverbank with some shade, a comfy chair, a pole and some redworms, and I'm a happy camper. However, according to my hubby...and his dad (who's the GURU of fishing...or thinks he is, at any rate), what I do is NOT fishing. No, according to them, you MUST fish from a boat. Oh, and no live bait either...you have to use ARTIFICIAL lures. "It's an art form", they tell me. Ummmmm...what? OOOOOKKKKKKKKKK!!!
So, there we are...fishing. We can't see anything at all...there was no moon, no lights around, and hubby didn't bring a flashlight. Oh, did I mention that I'm night blind? JOY. There I sit, holding a stick, and having no clue what's going on at the other end.
Yet, eventually, the sun DOES rise. And with that rising sun...GAH...the fish start getting all happy!! There's little minnows splashing around (and I DO mean little...if they were 1 inch long, they'd be considered HUGE), and the bigger fish start moving in for breakfast. Meanwhile, hubby has his plastic worm (don't that sound just yummy), and he's wigglin it, and jigglin it, and working that poor plastic worm this way and that way...when low and behold, WHAM!! He starts reeling that line...that fish is fighting hard...he gets it to the boat, and...the fish swims away. That's it. It just lets go...and swims away.
Time passes, and eventually, I get a bite. Yes, folks...mine actually made it INTO the boat (too small, so we put it back, but still...). I didn't do no fancy moves...just sat there, cast my line, and slowly reeled it back. Simple.
Hubby is still casting, wigglin, jigglin, jerking that plastic worm here and there...over and over and over. Yeah, he did finally get another hit...and no, that one didn't make it to the boat, either. Just let go, and swam away.
Now, I know this isn't really a food or cooking post...but I had to share this with you all, cause if you're like me, you're probably thinking the same thing I am...
If I can catch a fish, and he can't...Nuff' said on what's the best way to fish, eh?