Fish Tales

     I grew up in the 1950's, it was a good time to be a kid because we didn't have things to play with that kept us indoors all day. We wanted to go outside from the minute we woke up every morning. We got to play in the dirt and roam freely through out the neighborhood, fields and woods.
     I was the son of a country boy and one thing country boys did was fish. There were no fishing clubs to join, no fishing shows on TV, no custom built rods and reels or 200 hp bass boats there was not even an Old Hickory Lake. What we did have were small creeks, river banks, a few ponds and a father who liked to go fishing.
     Our fishing gear consisted of long cane poles with thick braided line tied to the end. The line had a hook and sinker on the other end and a cork ( also known as a float or bobber ) attached to the line, the float was adjustable depending on how deep you wanted the bait beneath the surface. The distance you could fish from shore depended on how long the cane pole was and how much line was attached to the pole, I have seen cane poles up to 15 feet long and usually there would be as much as 20 ft of line. Hooks varied in size depending on the type fish you were hoping to catch, sinkers or weights usually were store bought pieces of lead in various shapes and sizes but I personally have resorted to using flat washers and even nuts and bolts will do in a pinch. Floats were usually store bought, they were made from cork, plastic or wood, they were different shapes and sizes as well as different colors although red and white were the generally accepted colors, again in a pinch I have tied on a small twig.
      In 1960 we moved to Mt. Juliet, Tn. which was at that time country. Dad bought his first "NEW" home in a subdivision that was going to be big but never grew to more than about twenty homes in five years. The great thing was that it was located next to Cedar Creek which was a tributary to Old Hickory Lake, I thought I had moved to paradise. I learned to fish with cane pole, spinning rod, fly rod, hunting knife and bow and arrow. I quit fishing when I went into the Navy and didn't get back into it until the early 1970's, I quit again in the 1980's and didn't get back in again until about 2002. With all my ins and outs I had my share of experiences both good and bad.
     Recently I read a book that Kay gave me for Christmas, the writer was not only a newspaper columnist but an avid fisherman as well. The book was a collection of his fish stories based on his experiences and I got to thinking maybe some of my experiences would make a good story for my blog so here we go.
 
                             _______________________________________________


      Not long after moving to Mt. Juliet I met a classmate by the name of Donnie Odum, he lived down on the lake, he was a true sportsman and he had a boat. One day Donnie and I went crappie fishing and we were doing good, we had close to two dozen crappie in a fish basket tied to the side of the boat. Fish baskets were widely used back then because it was easy to put the fish in the basket and it kept the fish fresh and alive. So here we are catching crappie like crazy but then they just quit eating so we decided to try our luck somewhere else so we pulled in our lines fired up the motor and away we went, we didn't get far when we heard a loud snap and looked back in time to see the basket full of crappie sinking beneath the surface. We didn't find another good spot that day.
 


                            ________________________________________________



 Another time fishing with Donnie and another friend named Brent, we went after white hybrid bass or as we called them then "Strippers". The strippers generally ran about two pounds and traveled in large schools, they moved up and down the lake following schools of shad minnows which they would attack and feed on with a vengeance, the surface boils. The action is fast and furious then the fish move on. They would hit on anything bright and shinny, spinner baits worked great.
     The three of us were in Donnie's twelve foot boat out on the river channel, we hooked up with a school of strippers feeding on the surface and were able to pull several fish out before they went down, the fishing was so hectic that when we brought in a fish we simply removed it from the hook and dropped it in the floor of the boat. Donnie operated the motor which he never turned off, we would sit idling and watching for the school to surface again then we would race to where they were and start fishing. We kept this up for a couple of hours and wound up following the school for several miles down the lake before we lost them. Every time we pulled up next to the school we would each catch two to three fish, we had quite a haul by the end of the day.


                                               __________________________________


     I had a thirty pound pull bow and arrow with a spool attached to it to hold fishing line which was attached a fiberglass fishing arrow, I liked to hunt for carp in the shallow waters of the lake. One day I was back up in the creek walking the bank to a good spot, the trail took me on a low rise overlooking a small pool of water and there he was or maybe it was a she I don't know but it was the biggest carp I had ever seen. It was a good three plus feet long, the pool was about eight feet in diameter and so shallow a large portion of the fish's back was out of the water, we are talking about a fish of thirty plus pounds. I was about six feet above the pool and about ten feet away from the fish. I notched the arrow and drew back on the string and loosed the arrow. I hit the fish in the side just behind the gills, a perfect spot, then I quickly ducked as the arrow flew by on it's return trip. I watched as the fish slowly turned and eased out of the pool and disappeared down the creek. I couldn't believe what just happened until I retrieved my arrow, skewered on the tip was a fish scale at least two + inches in diameter. This was the big one that got away.


                                         ______________________________________


     Not long after I got out of the Navy I bought a 1969 Pontiac GTO, much to Linda's dismay. It was one of those macho, go fast, big engine, muscle cars that every red blooded boy wanted but not many ever got and it was mine. This car had a 400 cubic inch engine with a Hurst four speed  shifter in the floor, I once got it up to 120 mph out on hwy 109 before I backed off. Man I loved that car but on with the story.
     This was 1970 and I hadn't yet bought my first boat, one reason was I couldn't afford it after buying the GTO. Not having a boat was not a reason not to go fishing, all one needed was a rod and reel or cane pole and a river bank, oh! and transportation.
     One beautiful Saturday afternoon I decided to go fishing somewhere on Stones River below the dam so I picked up Ronnie and we headed off looking for that virgin fishing hole that held the "BIG" one. I had two vehicles at that time, my prized GTO and a 1962 Chevy Impala hard top with a 283 engine and three on the column ( that's a three speed manual transmission with the shifter on the steering column ). Linda didn't like the GTO so I drove it in search of the fishing hole with fishing rods sticking out the rear window.
     I located a subdivision on a hill overlooking a field next to the river it had an access road down the hill which turned into a dirt path to the river bank. I didn't see any other cars around and thought we would have the place to ourselves so off we went down the hill. Things went pretty good for a little ways and then we hit soft ground which turned into outright mud. The GTO having only two wheel drive quickly started to mire down, the only thing four hundred horse power got me was a rooster tail of mud behind the car. I didn't just sink up to the axles I went all the way to the floor boards. I was beyond stuck, I was not going anywhere without the aid of a wrecker and a long chain so I called my little brother Clint.
     Clint was the family "go to" guy for all things mechanical, he came out to pick us up and look over the situation. Yep, he knew a guy who knew a guy who had a wrecker but he couldn't get there until the next day. I had to leave the GTO overnight needless to say I didn't sleep very well.
     To make a long story short, it cost me twenty five dollars to get the car pulled out of the mud and another four dollars at the car wash to clean the mud off.
     Ronnie and I never did make it back to the fishing hole, just as well, it probably didn't hold any fish worth catching anyway.



                                    ___________________________________________



     A couple of years after the GTO fiasco I had the opportunity to by a boat, it was eighteen feet long, a runabout with  a walk thru windshield and powered by a 125 hp Johnson engine. Linda and I enjoyed the hell out of that boat, every weekend we loaded up and headed to the lake for two days of camping and water skiing. We enjoyed it so much that we sold the house and bought one in a small subdivision close to the lake ( we could see the lake if we stood on tip toes on the front porch standing on a stool ). Now we could go water skiing after work and on the week ends.
     I did fish from the boat but mostly it was anchored down night fishing as I didn't have a trolling motor. I wasn't into fishing that much anyway but Dad was. I kept the boat docked at Cedar Creek Marina,  Dad asked if he could borrow the boat to go fishing on his day off, I said sure and let the people at the marina know he was coming.
     Dad liked to fish the Spencer's Creek area where he grew up, by water it was maybe five miles and that's where he went. Dad brought along a clamp on trolling motor he purchased for the occasion and put it to work in an afternoon of fishing. The thing Dad didn't think about was a separate  battery and how quickly the trolling motor would drain down the one used to start the engine, by the time Dad was ready to go there wasn't enough juice left to crank the motor.
     Once Dad realized there was a problem he started looking for a way to rectify it, there were no other boats around in the middle of the week and he didn't see anyone home at the few houses he could see so he took the cover off the engine in the hopes of finding a fix. Johnson engines were state of the art for the times and 125 hp was about as big as they came. Dad discovered a starter rope coiled and attached inside the engine cover and he could see that the fly wheel was set up to accept it so Dad wound the rope around the fly wheel  just like he used to do on old lawn mowers. Once in place Dad gave the rope a good strong pull. In Dad's own words "I almost pulled my arm out of it's socket".
     Turns out the torque required to start a 5 hp lawnmower was a lot less than that required for a 125 hp engine, it just wouldn't budge even though he tried several times. He broke out a paddle and started sculling for shore when another boat came along and gave him a tow back to Cedar Creek, it took awhile.
     It wasn't long until Dad bought his own fishing boat.



                                       ___________________________________________



     When Linda and I moved to the lake I met a guy who lived down the street and on the lake, his name was Mike, he was ten years older than me and we became best friends. Mike lived on the lake and had a dock but it wasn't covered so he kept his boat at the marina. He and I decided we should do some night fishing so on a Friday or Saturday night we would run up the lake to where Spencer Creek runs into the river channel.
     We never did too well at catching fish but that was not the point, we had a good time drinking a couple of beers and solving the problems of the world. Sometimes we would be out a few hours sometimes we would be out till the wee hours of the morning, we didn't catch anymore fish but we did solve a lot of the worlds problems and the beer was good.
     One night we decided to finish early so we upped anchor and started for home, we had been out about four hours by then. About half way home we noticed several boats, with their lanterns burning brightly, anchored down in a cut along the channel. Mike thought we should stop and join the guys, we knew most of them, so I said why not.
     I think at this point I should tell you that I was in my late twenties then and I had a bladder that seemingly held gallons before I had to empty it, I was known to go for hours without having to go to the bathroom. I called it my thousand mile kidneys.
     We got in among our friends and started to fish, seems nobody else was having better luck than we were so we did a lot of talking, several of the guys had there wives along. A couple of beers later and I was starting to feel the pressure building and Mike was no closer to leaving so I had to make a decision. I was considerate of the ladies and turned my back as I stood on the bow of the boat, I apologized to them but nature called and I had to go.
       I started urinating into the water, my bladder was so full it was taking awhile to empty, then I heard someone tell his partner he better let some line out on the anchor rope the lake seemed to be rising, another guy told someone to get on the marine radio and call the dam they may need to open the flood gates. It seemed forever before my bladder was empty, everyone had fun at my expense, it was a while longer before I lived that episode down.
   
   
   
                                    ___________________________________________



     Mike bought a new bass boat with a 150 hp Mercury engine, with that big engine it would do better than 50 mph. At that time he had the fastest boat at the marina and maybe on the lake. One night we decided to go up to the Gallatin steam plant to fish for Sauger. After fishing till the wee hours of the morning we decided to go home. We motored out to the channel and found dense fog so thick I could see no more than a few yards.
     Mike was one of those people that was confident in every thing he did and he spread that confidence to those around him, I trusted Mike, I was sure he knew what he was doing therefore we would be OK. Mike had the latest equipment on his boat including a flasher depth  finder. A flasher depth finder sort of looked like a circular speedometer in the dash of a car, instead of a needle to indicate the depth there was a light that flashed different colors as the depth changed.
     We started out down the channel, Mike had me lay down on the bow of the boat with a spot light to keep an eye out for floating logs or large pieces of debris in the water, if I saw anything I was to shout back to Mike. I laid there on the bow trying to spot debris, at some point I looked back at Mike, he was intently staring at the flasher, changing course as needed, the boat was doing about 30 mph. I still couldn't see more than a few yards. The thought occurred to me that if I did see something by the time I got Mike's attention we would have already hit what ever it was. Realizing my  efforts were futile I went back and sat down beside Mike, it wasn't long before we were safe at home smelling like fish.
     As a footnote, Mike beefed up his boat reaching a top speed in excess of 70 mph, he raced it in time trials and against other boats ( suckers ) he could find on the lake.



                                       _________________________________________



     Linda wanted me to have a fishing boat when the boys were still young, After a short vacation to see her Dad in Florida she told me Dad had a fishing boat that he would give me, all I had to do was come and get it. This alone should have thrown up a red flag as Dad never gave away anything worthwhile but I thought if it floated I could deal with it.
     A couple of weeks later the boys and I drove down to get the boat. Turns out Dad had two boats and the nicer of the two was his. The boat he wanted to give me was a fourteen foot semi - V aluminum fishing boat with a 15 hp Evinrude motor and it had a trailer. The whole rig was old, about thirty plus years, the trailer was rusted but the tires were good, the transom was split in a couple of places but had been repaired with a piece of stainless steel, the boat generally was dirty and full of leaves, water and other debris. Dad assured me it ran great and had been tuned up not long ago. It was a mess but I took it.
     After getting the boat home I spent a couple of days getting it cleaned up as best I could, buying life jackets and getting the fishing gear in some order. The next weekend the boys and I took the boat to the lake for its maiden voyage. We got to the ramp and launched the boat, as dirty as it still was, it did not leak and the engine fired up easily. We pulled away from the dock and started out into the lake, I poured on the gas and the boat planed out real nice and ran great. Just as I was about to think nice thoughts about my Father-in-law the engine lost power and the boat went dead in the water, it just sat there idling, after a few moments it took off again like a bat out of hell ran for about thirty yards and died out again. Discouraged I went back to the dock and loaded up and went home.
     I talked to a guy I worked with and he felt that it needed a tune up so I let him work on it. After a week we loaded up again and headed back to the lake. The results were the same so I took the boat home and parked it until I could decide what to do with it.
     I wound up taking the motor to a boat motor mechanic. While the mechanic took his time working on the motor I spent a weekend with the boat and trailer at the shop I managed. We had a large sand blast room and I was able to fit the boat inside and give it a good going over, the trailer took a little more effort as it had several coats of paint and some rust but it cleaned up nicely. We had on hand plenty of high quality paint that we used to paint phone booths for Bell South, I had my painter paint the boat inside and out with a glossy grey or silver as we called it, the trailer  was painted black. Now I was ready for the engine.
     A few weeks went buy and I had not heard from the mechanic so I went to see him. He told me the engine had no compression and the motor needed a complete overhaul, the problem with that was the engine was so old parts were not available so he couldn't fix it.
     All the way home I remembered that Dad had told me the motor had recently been overhauled, obviously not, then I remembered all of the things Dad had told me in the past that never happened or were a little shy of being true and I wondered why the boat fiasco should be any different. There is an old saying " the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again and again expecting different results", Dad could drive one crazy that way.
     I got the motor home and mounted it to the boat and left it parked in the drive, to be dealt with  later.
     A few weeks later Linda called me at work one day, she was having a garage sale and some older man saw the boat in the drive and asked if it was for sale, she wanted the boat gone and it sounded like a good idea to me. The man was told about the motor and he still offered $400 for it and we took it.
     It wasn't long before Dad found out I had sold the boat and he was highly agitated, the word I got was I was ungrateful and he would never give me anything again, it was some time before he would talk to me. As far as I was concerned Linda and I came out winners on this deal, we would not be getting things that we didn't need or want or wouldn't work.



                                        _________________________________________



     I was a shop supervisor for a company in 2001. My friend Ken had been laid off from the same company earlier, he took some extra time off to get himself in the right frame of mind - he started fishing. Ken has a Sylvan aluminum runabout built back in the 1970's, it had belonged to his uncle and he spent many hours in it on lake Erie trolling for Walleye. The boat was rigged with out riggers and down riggers perfect for trolling.
     Ken was my boss at work being the two old men of the shift we clicked, we have been best friends since. We talked on the phone a few times after he left the company and one night he invited me to go fishing with him. Ken had become infatuated with catching Strippers, they are a salt water fish that spawn in fresh water and were found to survive very well in fresh water. These fish can get up to 35 + pounds and trolling was one of a prime means of catching them and Ken was a trolling expert.
     Trolling was not one of the methods of catching fish that turned me on but Ken was my friend. I went fishing with Ken and discovered trolling was not that bad. We got into a habit of fishing every weekend during the warmer weather and have been at it ever since, once deer season started I hardly saw Ken until spring. We caught a lot of fish over the years, had some interesting times and put hundreds of hours on his ancient motor at 1 1/2 mph.


                                       _______________________________________



     One day Ken and I were trolling in the Flat Creek area of Lake Lanier and as usual there were other boats out there after the Strippers, several of the boats belonged to guide services. There was this one boat that had two couples aboard and the skipper had stopped his boat deciding to straight line for the fish. Ken and I were trolling and our path took us about thirty yards off their starboard side (right side). We hooked a Stripper and hauled him in right in front of them - the fish weighed about 7-8 pounds. The next pass around we hooked another in the same spot and the pass after that we hooked another. We made a total of five passes by that boat and caught five Strippers none of which weighed less than 5 pounds. We could see the faces of the people in the guide boat and hear enough to know they were wanting to know why they weren't catching fish like ours. About the time we made our fifth pass the guide was reeling in lines and getting ready to move on.



                                       _________________________________________
 


     Ken and I have been all over Lake Lanier and have seen a lot of things, the things that most fascinate us is the wildlife. We have seen most every thing that lives near or along the shores of the lake, Deer, Eagles, Osprey, Otters, Groundhog. One day we were down around Two Mile Creek drifting with our bait some twenty five feet beneath us, there was a good size cut in the bank with a sandy beach, we were maybe sixty to seventy yards away. I looked up and there was a Red Fox walking out on the sand followed by a kit (young Fox), we watched as the mother  and baby drank water and played. The young Fox was like any other young animal as it explored his new world and learned to survive.
     Another day we were in the Flat Creek area, Georgia had been in a drought for some time and the lake was down about twenty feet. Large areas of land mass had appeared over many months, one of those connected a large island to the mainland. We were trolling on the back side of the island when we heard dogs barking on the island and looked up to see them running through the tress of the island. I kept watching as we continued to troll  when I saw a deer run through the trees and jump into the water, she was quickly followed by two fawns with spots still on their coats.The dogs seemed to loose the deer's sent when they reached the waters edge but the deer were swimming fast across the lake.
     There was another large island a couple of hundred yards across from where the deer entered the water and you would think the deer would swim to it as it was the shortest distance to land but I guess deer aren't that smart. About halfway across the doe makes a hard right turn and starts heading down the center of the lake heading for a shore line well over a half mile away. In the mean time the two fawns were a good hundred yards behind mama and loosing ground, mama was moving on. We watched as the fawns kept swimming and it seemed they were getting lower in the water, they started out with a portion of their backs out of the water and now only their neck and heads were showing. We reeled in our lines and motored close to the fawns  thinking we could, if we had to, throw a line around their necks and tie them to the boat to keep them from drowning.
     In the mean time mama was getting close to shore, when she made it she quickly disappeared in the trees. We did not have to rescue the fawns but I can guarantee they were wore out when they walked ashore. For having such small hooves they can sure swim.




     I think that in order to hold the readers attention I shouldn't put too much into one story and I think I have rambled on enough for this one. This is not to say I have no more fish tales to tell, there are plenty more so look for another "Fish Tales" or "Fish Tales II" or "More Fish Tales" or just some story that deals with fishing.