I Loved Grampy

by Bill Melchior

CHAPTER 4

  THE FISHING TRIP

  One of my favorite things to do with Grampy was go fishing. He taught me everything I know about fishing. He knew everything in the world about luring a fish to devour that succulent treat, a worm or cricket. There wasn’t a question he couldn’t answer. At least it seemed like that to a kid who knew nothing.

  I was eight years old and Grampy invited me for a weekend at the river for my first fishing trip. Wow, me and Grampy at a cabin, just the two of us men together, bonding as fishermen do.

  He picked me up at my house on a Friday afternoon in October. I watched out of my upstairs bedroom. I saw the car pull into the driveway and ran out to meet Captain Ahab. I was so excited I jumped into the car and said, “Let’s go.” He laughed and asked, “Where are your fishing pole and clothes?” I answered, “Oh yeah” and jumped back out of the car. I ran upstairs and grabbed the bag mom had packed for me. Then I ran to the garage and grabbed my pole. I raced back to the car as if all of the fish would be gone if we didn’t leave immediately. I said, “C’mon Grampy you’re taking too long.” He said, “You know I think you’re right.” He jumped in the car and away we went.

  It was about a two hour ride to the river. It felt more like two days. There were chores to do once we got there. We had to open up the cabin and let the clean country air permeate every room. There was firewood to gather. The boat had to be prepared. Preparing the boat consisted of putting the motor on the aluminum John boat, putting in the cooler with our drinks, and placing our fishing gear in the correct spots in the boat. Now there really wasn’t a correct spot, but Grampy convinced me if we put everything in its proper place we would catch bigger fish. Obviously, this was more out of his need to be orderly than anything to do with fishing, but what did I know.

  We arrived a little after noon. I ran around like a mad man gathering wood and covering it. We would make a campfire after dark and have a grand roast (you guessed it - hot dogs!).

  All of the chores at the cabin were done. Now it was time to get about the business of catching fish. We made our way to the boat with all of our gear. Once our gear was secure and the motor was on the back of the boat, Grampy invited me to get in the boat, “C’mon Bill, those fish are waiting on us.” I proudly assumed my position in the boat as Grampy pushed the boat off of the bank with an oar. We were floating on the river now, just “Ol’ Man River” and two fishermen. The current was swifter than normal because the river level was up from all of the rain earlier that week.

  Grampy cranked up the motor and away we went. I felt the wind and sun against my face. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the speed of the boat as it bounced up and down on the river. The sun glistened on the water. It was a perfect day for fishing. We headed for Grampy’s favorite fishing spot. He called it, “Fishermen’s Cove.” He told me, “Only experienced fishermen try to fish in this cove because the fish are so big they can pull a fisherman in the river if he doesn’t know how to reel in the big one.” Grampy told me how he saw one fisherman get pulled into the river and wrestle with a fish as big as the fisherman. I sat there with my mouth open listening to every word. I finally asked, “What happened to the man?” He explained, “He threw the fish in the boat, then he climbed in the boat, and left. That was the biggest fish dinner the fisherman ever had.” This was an example of how Grampy could make things fun and exciting by exaggerating a fabricated story. As a young boy I thought I might be pulled in the river. I was determined to reel in the big one and show my worth as a fisherman. As I think back, I remember how Grampy smiled the whole time he wove his fish story. Without exaggeration, it is not a fish tale. There wasn’t an ounce of truth to any of it. I believed it and that was all that mattered. He created a story I would remember the rest of my life.

  Grampy slowed the boat down as we entered “Fishermen’s Cove.” He shut the motor down as we approached the bank. We drifted close to the brush along the bank. Grampy dropped anchor just a little away from the brush so we would not disturb the fish. He explained that we didn’t want to go into the brush because it would scare the fish and they would swim away. We didn’t want to let them know we were coming. I asked, “How do you know the fish are in the brush?” He replied, “Because that’s where they live. They think nobody can see them in there.” Now we were ready.

  We grabbed our poles and I looked at him because I didn’t know what to do next. Grampy examined his pole from top to bottom. He told me the most important part of fishing was baiting the hook. He told me to watch how he did it. He took the worm and slid it over the hook so you couldn’t see the hook. I asked why we needed worms and hooks. He realized he was a little ahead of himself. Grampy explained, “The worm is food for the fish. When he comes to eat the worm, the hook gets stuck in its mouth and you reel it in.” I asked, “Doesn’t the hook hurt the fish?” He answered, “Oh no the fish will be fine.”

  Grampy said, “Now watch.” Grandfather grabbed his pole and cast his line in the water by the brush and slowly reeled it in. “It’s your turn.” He showed me how to hold the pole so I could cast my line. My first cast didn’t go very far. I needed to practice in order to learn when to let the button go so that the line would carry to the spot I wanted. After several tries I started to get the idea. Finally, we both cast our lines at the same time. They were perfect casts.

  We slowly reeled our lines in. There were no nibbles or signs of fish. I thought about it and asked, “Grampy, how do we know if we caught a fish or not?” He told me, “You will feel a pull on your line. When you do, pull the pole and start to reel it in faster.” The next time he put his line in the water I saw his pole bend down as the line went deeper into the water. I shouted, “Grampy, Grampy you got one. Reel him in faster. You’re doing it way too slow.” My exuberance exceeded my knowledge of fishing. He laughed as he brought the fish up, out of the water. He hauled the line into the boat and hung the fish right in front of my face. The fish started wiggling continuously. It startled me and I jumped back. Now Grampy was really laughing. He calmly said, “Bill, he’s not going to hurt you. Let me show you how to take him off of the hook.” The old fisherman reached and grabbed the fish and slid the hook out of his mouth as he had done a thousand times over the years. I wanted to know, “Is that a big one?” In true fisherman style he told me to measure our catch. He had a ruler in his tackle box. I took it out and waited for the fish to lie still. I measured it and informed Grampy, “Wow, it’s five inches. Can you believe it?” He laughed, “Did you say a whole five inches, not five and a half or six inches?” I thought he was serious. I told him, “Nope, five inches.” I hadn’t learned the art of fishing humor yet. A veteran fisherman would have said eight or nine inches and everyone would have agreed and been happy. A new fish tale would have been born. They say everything is bigger in Texas. Maybe so, but everything is much, much bigger in fishing.

  Grampy said, “I think you should bait your own hook. I will watch. Be careful the hook is sharp.” I stuck my finger as I tried to slither the worm onto the hook. I could tell the worm didn’t enjoy this any more than I did. Actually, I guess he enjoyed it less. I told Grampy, “I can’t do it. You do it.” Grampy being the master teacher brought everything back to basics. First he questioned “When you ask for something what do you say?” I answered, “Please.” He said, “That’s right. I know you’re excited so we’ll overlook it this time. Next time say something like, “Could you please help me?” This was another lesson from Grampy. Always keep your priorities straight. Manners were one of the first priorities. I was surprised when he told me, “You can do it. Bait your own hook. Take your time. What would you do if I wasn’t here to help you?” Why wouldn’t he help me? He encouraged me by telling me I could do it. Then he offered the advice to take my time. I didn’t realize it at the time but this was another lesson Grampy was teaching me. You have to solve your own problems. Someone will not always be there to help you. He watched me but didn’t move.

  Finally, my hook was baited and my fing
er was sore. I was ready to cast in and see if I would have any luck. Sure enough, I felt a tug and saw the line go down into the water. I pulled on the pole and reeled in the line. I felt the weight the entire time I reeled in the line. I fought that fish every inch of the way. It felt like a whale. All of a sudden, it flashed through my mind. Would I be pulled into the river? After all, we were in “Fishermen’s Cove.” Had others been pulled in and never made it out? Fortunately, I couldn’t think much about my fate. I had to deal with the task at hand. Grampy encouraged me the whole time. “Good one, Good one you got em’ now. Keep reelin’ em’ in and get em’ in the boat.” I did it. I landed the fish. Grampy said, “That has got to be the biggest fish in the world.” Who was I to argue with an expert? He told me how to get the fish off of the hook. This was another part of fishing I learned that day. I dug the ruler back out of the tackle box and measured a whooping six inches. This was bigger than Grampy’s catch. I asked? “Is this really the biggest fish you have ever seen?” He answered, “Oh yes, biggest one ever.” Now I knew how all of the big game fishermen felt on television. Maybe I would grow up to be a fisherman instead of a baseball player.

  We spent the afternoon catching nine fish. I cast my line in the water. Once again I had a hit. This was the biggest one I had all day and I’m not kidding. I looked at Grampy and he wasn’t smiling. He could tell by the way my pole was bent that it was a big one. He grabbed the net.

  We could put the net under the fish when it got close to the boat so we wouldn’t lose it. As I lifted the fish out of the water it was huge. Grampy tried to put the net under him but the line snapped before he could get the net under him. The fish was gone as fast as he had been hooked. Tears welled up in my eyes. I could see the look on Grampy’s face. He felt really bad that he couldn’t get the net under the fish fast enough. He said, “Bill, I’m so sorry I let you down.” Some of his lessons paid off. I tried to console him by saying, “Thanks for trying.” There you have it; the lessons of trying to make someone feel better, being thankful and saying thanks, and not being mean. That’s pretty darned good for an eight year old. Grampy gave me a hug and said he loved me. Then he added, “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”

  As we got ready to put our lines back in the water, we noticed the sunshine had disappeared and dark clouds were moving in. Grampy watched as the clouds moved closer. Suddenly, there was a streak of lightning and a clap of thunder. Grampy had an uncomfortable look on his face. He said, “Rain is coming and we have to get home quick.” I asked, “Why are you in such a rush?” Grampy explained,” Lightning is attracted to an aluminum boat on the water.” He tried not to act overly concerned. But I could see his mood had changed. Grandfather fired up the motor and it was full speed ahead. The clouds and lightning moved closer. The storm caught us before we could make it to the bank. Rain poured from the sky. We were soaked. We made it to the bank, tied the boat up, and ran for the cabin. The cabin looked good after being out in the elements all day. We plopped the fishing gear by the door and crashed on the couch. We changed into some dry clothes and relaxed for a while, reliving all of the events of the day.

  We made dinner while the rain storm moved through. Grampy said, “There is nothing better than fried fish right out of the water.” He showed me how to clean the fish and prepare them for frying. As we sat down to the table, Grampy said, “Now don’t get too full because you know we’re going to make a campfire and have weenies and beans later.” We ate and rested.

  Later that evening the storm had passed and we got ready for the campfire. We stacked wood and started the fire. It was just getting dark by the time the fire got roaring. The canned beans were heating when we took two sticks and put hot dogs on both of them. The flickering flames licked at the gourmet franks. I took the cooked frank and carefully put it in the bun, added mustard and had a little bit of heaven. Grampy and I sat by the fire after we ate the beans and dogs.

  He decided this would be a good time for a ghost story. He began with, “You know there were people who lived on this land long before I owned it. The people farmed the land and raised their families in this very house. They lived a long time ago. One winter it was so cold that the father and son froze to death. They were buried back in those woods.” I looked into the woods as if I might see one of them. He continued, “People around here say sometimes late at night you can hear the father’s voice. You have to listen carefully. It sounds like he’s saying, “whoooo? whoooo?” People around here think he is asking who is living on his land.” I heard the sound, “whoooooo? whooooo?” I moved to sit in Grampy’s lap. He did it again. He wove a story that would have made Edgar Allen Poe proud. Years later I found out he knew there was an owl in those woods. Of course the sound was from the owl, but I was certain it was the dead guy. I told him I thought it was time to go to bed. I’d had a long day and I wanted to be ready for the fish in the morning. There was no way I was going to show him I was scared, even though we both knew I was.

  We went inside and got our beds ready. Grampy asked if I wanted a night light. He thought this would help ease my fears of the ghosts that I was sure would visit in the night. I said, “Well if you need a light then I’m okay with one.” He laughed, “Thanks, I think I need one. By the way just so you know ghosts don’t come around the light.” He put one in the hall and left my door open. As I got down on my knees to say my nightly prayers I thanked God for the night light.

  Grampy laughed as he went into his bedroom and closed the door. I am sure he felt quite satisfied that it was a wonderful day that I would always remember, and it was.