Melody Came Along

With fishing, it's not the size of the boat, motors and tackle, (though they help), but rather the time spent doing as few productive things as possible. There is something so decidedly lazy about it that even the worst day fishing is better than the best day working.

My favorite time to fish is early in the morning, when the lake is as smooth as glass; with the teensiest puff of wind every now and again just enough to make teensy ripples, just before the sun comes up.

You reach the spot you want to start fishing, cut the big motor, and fire up the electric trolling motor, sort through your tackle box and select your hook and clip it to your leader -- them northern pike's teeth really can do a number on the monofilament line!

Then, you spin your seat around so you can look at where you have been already; (HEY!! Ya' see that momma loon with her babies on her back in the weed edge there? Look! The poppa loon just dove under!), then release the bale and give your rod a little flick; and count to oh, say ten, and catch the line on your pointer finger.

Feel your Rap slide through the water... feel it catching any rocks or anything? No? OK let out another five seconds of line. Catch it on your finger again; give a little tug and feel it again. Aha! Feel the hooks scraping on the bottom? Turn your handle three times and let the boat take up the slack.

There ya' go! Now relax your rod holding hand and rest your pointer finger gently along side the line. You should be able to feel the vibrations on the line caused by the wake and vibrations of the boat.

Right about now, the eastern sky starts pinkening up. Wow! Look at that! The tall, white pine spotted rock bluffs of the Narrows set against the sky shading from a deep purple- pink to orange to blue to the last shades of night time. Hey! Look straight up! You can see the last stars from the night.

Pass me a Coke from the cooler under your seat, would ya'? I got some coffee for you in the thermos under the steering console. I like to tuck it up in there when we are zipping across the lake so it doesn't roll around in the boat.

Naw, I ain't got any cups. Just use the lid. Don't poke the cork back in the thermos too hard. It's getting old and hard to pull out.

Munchies? Yeah, I got munchies. What's your pleasure: Powdered donuts or the chocolate covered ones? No, the wild rice brats are for our island cook out lunch later. Stay out of the buns... they are to wrap around our brats. Trust me. Eat a donut. If ya' want bananas and oranges, get in Ma's boat.

That's better. Brush the powdered sugar off your lap. You look like a flour sack blew up on you. Now lean back put your feet up on the stern and every now and again, twitch that pole to make sure you aren't catching the salad for our lunch.

HOLY COW! Did you feel that? Like a freight train grabbed that hook!

Reel in some and don't drop the tip of your rod! Aww man! Got away did it?

OK. Relax. Don't worry about the coffee. Just rag it up with this towel and rinse it out in the lake; when your breathing returns to normal, assume your former position.

Let out a little line. Now settle in again. Did ya' feel that bump? Feed it some line... there it again... come on... come on... YES! Set that hook! Don't drop the tip! Better loosen your drag just a touch. That's right; make it fight the pole and not your line. Reel in when ya' can. Don't shout too loud, others will be out on the lake soon and we don't want to give away our hot spot.

Yes, I got the net... WOW! A five pounder! There is a GOOD supper. Wanna' go back to the shore and take a nap or ya' wanna' keep going?

Yeah, I thought so. Hand me another donut would ya'?