STORY PAGE
The Fishing Expert
Fishing in the old days was very good if you knew where to go and what to use as bait. As a youngster I fished little, but my grandparents were into it and
had great fishing experiences. It was the reason they first went to Sandy Pond. They had a distant cousin who was a “vested
Expert fisherman.”
Short story: My best friend's stepfather owned part of Seber Shores (East Shore). He had a large boathouse, rented boats and cottages, and sold swamp lots to
be filled for lake and creek lots. He also had a bait shop and a license to catch minnows with a 50-foot net. My friend and I earned extra money in the
summer filling lots from the gravel pit, catching minnows, and doing other odd jobs for him.
My grandparents' cousin came in from fishing one day with no fish. We saw him and inquired as to his luck. His response: “They aren't biting or I would
have caught some.” My friend picked up on it and told my distant relative that he wasn't as good as he thought he was.
Back came a challenge: “Put your money where your mouth is.”
The deal wound up this way: If we each caught three bass or more, he would give us five dollars each. If we each caught two or less, we’d give him three
dollars each.
As we headed for the creek, you could see him smiling confidently, but still watching where we were heading in case we returned with something.
After we were out of sight, we swung into the channel toward my friend's place. We went up to the old barn and played a little basketball. After staying busy
a few hours, he and I went to one of the empty minnow ponds where we had kept some bass and bullheads from
the minnow netting that spring. We netted six nice bass,
placed them on stringers and took them back to settle the bet. We were paid, but only with our promise to keep this a secret.
For the remainder of his or my grandparents’ life I never told anyone. And never again did I hear my distant cousin proclaimed to be the
"Expert" fisherman he
really was.
 | |
|