I know I'm prejudiced, but my three year old grandson is gonna be an awesome fisherman. He's got the touch. Can't wait until he's big enough to take to Canada! He'll have a ball!
BKB
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I know I'm prejudiced, but my three year old grandson is gonna be an awesome fisherman. He's got the touch. Can't wait until he's big enough to take to Canada! He'll have a ball!
BKB
Attachment 3120
That ought to be the pic of the month on the fishing forum.
But no one would see it.
We have a fishing forum? :confused:
OK as a father/grandfather where is this kids life jacket, I see he's right at the edge of a good drop off too.
Kids in the southern half of the U.S. know how to swim. Yankees never have enough warm weather to have time to learn. ;)
You got that right, Thump....and, I bet that young'un can tie on a line, bait his own hook, and swim like a fish. ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by Thumper
Southern kids don't wear live jackets. They slow you down when swimming away from the gators.
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Funny Thump story .... ;)
When my boy was about 3-4 years old, I took him fishing for the first time. Well, sorta. Lynn and I had him at the beach one weekend and I happened to have my fishing gear in the trunk of the car. On the way home, I stopped at a little cement abutment along the road and decided to let him wet a line ... just so he could say he caught a fish. I had no bait, so I dug up a mussel or little clam or sumpin' and stuck it on his hook. I mean ... in salt water fishing, you can always catch SOMETHING. I swear ... you'd have thought every fish on the coast had moved to another planet! He couldn't even get a nibble.
After a while, it was getting late, we needed to head home and Lynn and I finally tired of the wait. We figured he'd had enough "fishing" for the day anyway. BUT ... he was determined and wanted NOTHING to do with leaving until he'd caught a fish. I finally whispered to Lynn to run down the street and buy a fish at the local grocery store. She came back and whispered in my ear that all they had was FROZEN TROUT! Oh well. I had Lynn distract him and I held his pole for him. When he wasn't looking, I quickly slipped the trout onto his hook and dropped it into the water. I then hollered, "Dustin! You getting a bite!" He ran over, I handed him his pole and told him to reel in his fish.
He quickly reeled in his fish, held it up proudly and asked, "Dad! What kind of fish is this?" I answered, "WOW buddy, that's a frozen trout!" ;)
Of course, for many years after that, whenever the subject of fishing came up, he'd proudly brag about the frozen trout he caught at the beach! My main regret is, we didn't have a camera with us. He's going on 32 years old now and I'd give anything to have a framed pic of him holding up his first ever fish ... a frozen, salt-water (Rainbow) trout ... already gutted even! :D
I can vividly remember fishing with my Uncle Huck in a wooden boat that my Great Uncle Buster built on his front porch. We fished out of those boats until I was about 11, I guess. He built one every few years. They stayed in the river because you wanted the wood to get water soaked so it'd swell and there were hardly any leaks. They also weighed about three hundred pounds after they soaked up. My Uncle Huck used to say that you'd have to hit about four licks with an oar on one side of those old boats to even get it to start moving. My uncle told me after I was grown that I was actually catching the same fish over and over, on that first fishing trip in a boat that I remember so well. All I know is it got me hooked for life on fishing!
BKB