We have been putting off the ‘fish taxidermy’ section all during our Thanksgiving vacation because nobody wanted to reunite with family smelling fishy. We agreed that yesterday should mark the end of such starchy nonsense so we brought out the cane poles we chose earlier this week at Cabela’s.
In Houston, the easiest, quickest way to get a cane pole in the water is to drive five minutes to Buffalo Bayou, right downtown. The bayous are chock-full of odd catch.
As such, within about thirty minutes, I’d lost my first hook to a huge catfish. The next time, however, the fish was small fry but totally catchable. So I had Ford pull the bad boy in, himself. Suddenly, the boys went from roaming the grassy banks for detritus to hovering over hook with mad delight.
That little catfish had an enthusiastic reception fit for for a twenty-pound speckled trout. Or a two hundred pound marlin, for those of you who can’t appreciate the spec reference.
Ford held the fish briefly, noting it’s slip and relative strength, and then returned it to my dad, who pulled out a pair of needle nose pliers and went to work unhooking him. He was swift as a public health staff nurse in removing it.
Meanwhile, Chas had picked up the phone to tell Damon and then grandma all about the new fish, which turned out to be the catch of the day.
When was the last time you fished with your grandpa? I’ll bet you’ll never forget how much fun that was.
Well, neither did he.
and follow the adventure:
Wow, great to see Ford so engaged, and perhaps using real worms?
+ a
real shrimp!
Yes! Breaking News: if you isolate each boy and spend the afternoon with either, he quiets, calms and absorbs the affair. No fighting! But yes, when the fish bit, all focus converged on the catch
you dad looks SO awesome and fun!!!! what a great thing to share together. you are right tey will have these memories and these awesome shots too!
I love the expression on young Chas’ face in the first picture. Priceless!
Thanks, guys! I try so hard to be the quick photojournalist–with these guys I have to be fast! Sometimes I get it, sometimes I halfway get the shot, many times I just get fuzz
Just have to keep trying…
I see Ford has a bamboo pole. Did you go low tech without reels? Huckleberry Finn style? We tried that yesterday and it was pretty messy (mono filament wise). + A
No reels, Huck Finn style, but with monofilament. Dad brought a casting reel but at this age, it’s tough for little hands. I’ve seen it done though. Most often it’s a tangle and a half!
Beautiful shots with the hands!
Thanks, Jessica!
Such beautiful picutures. Your dad’s hands look like they’ve done that a million times. I still have my grandpas bamboo fishing pole. And we organize a fishing trip for the girls and grandpa each year. I think we might try the bamboo pole-the casting kind scares me.
the casting is tricky, indeed. Plus, the cane poles are easy to come by and balanced really well for small hands. I think they’ll LOVE it. You can also stick them in a bucket or balance them on a surface to relieve your hands as you corral distracted kids–our were so distracted until the first bite came. After that, they were more sensitive to the monitoring
I love these photos-your aunt, Libby, reminded me today to check your site. I have sculpted from memory my dad’s hands and Richard has them (plus a few more fingers). We had fun talking about all our nature adventures with your Dad: flounder fishing in the wee hours of the morning (Coleman light on the car roof so we wouldn’t get disoriented in the dark), crawdad netting, crabbing and the menagerie of 3 legged mammals (steel traps were legal then) in cages on our screened porch. “Davey Crockett” (Fess Parker was so cute!) was a huge TV hit and your dad was the supplier of much sought-after coon skin hats (humanely, I hope, gassed in bags attached to the car muffler). He skinned, salted and fashioned them himself!
Without your dad’s intervention, the bayou would have been an unexplored territory to his sisters. Neither of us became hunters and the sight of deer finally on my property (after 25 years) is quite thrilling even if they are nibbling on my garden (my chicken is more destructive but lays an egg for her keep). Libby has foxes in her yard. The 4-legged raccoons and opossums are fine, too as long as my chicken is safely bedded down. The opossums will eat the grub worms and cockroaches my chicken missed and the raccoon won’t find dog food or trash left out and moves on.
Bottom line is that we are all in this together. Nothing is for sport, only survival but that can be interpreted pretty broadly.
Aunt Kathy
“Bottom line is that we are all in this together. Nothing is for sport, only survival but that can be interpreted pretty broadly.”
I meant to say “WAY too broadly”
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