Fish are Talking. Are You Listening?

I've known it for years. Fishing for trout teaches it to you. Fishing for bass teaches it to you. Fishing for reds teaches it to you. The problem is we bury it under piles of maps, tackle, gear, reports and fishing forum gossip.

So what is "it"?

Here "it" is: The fish will tell you what they want to eat. Figuratively of course. More accurately stated, for those willing to observe it, the fish you are looking for will show you what they want to eat. And upon further inspection, how.

I relearn this lesson time and again. A story from last spring stays in the forefront of my mind especially in spring.

While scouting kayaking locations from the bank one morning, my brother and  I found bass actively feeding on shad. We launched the kayaks and set off in hot pursuit. After 45 minutes and zero strikes on myriad baits, I changed my mind. I reanalyzed the situation.

What were the bass feeding on? Shad.
What size were the shad? About two inches.
What colors imitate shad? White and silver.
What speed were the shad moving? Fast.
What baits did I have that I could mimic the shad? One. An Excalibur XR25 Lipless Crankbait in Sexy Shad.

I tied it on and second cast landed a fish. I immediately called to Lance and let him know what the pattern was. He tied on a Strike King Red Eye Shad in Chrome and started catching them as well.

Why did I spend so much time throwing my confidence baits? Because I was confident I knew what the fish wanted. They told me otherwise with their closed mouths near my baits and continued feasting around me. The fish offered display after display of what dinner they preferred. I just didn't want to see it. I wasn't actively watching for it.

Sometimes we need to slow down, watch, listen, learn from our surroundings and then and only then, using our acquired knowledge from past and present, give the fish what it wants to which it in turn will give us what we want.

This lesson applies to more than just fishing though sometimes it takes a day on the water to remind us. A simple fish can teach us what we refuse to hear from others. Well played Mother Nature. Well played. 

What Will You Be?

Life changing events, like the one I went through last week with the passing of my grandfather, leave you asking lots of questions. These moments cause introspection often to the point of exhaustion. Weeding through the myriad thoughts, small treasures can come forth.

My grandfather's memorial service brought forth some questions and after some pondering, some clarification. The question that I wrestled with was "What would be said when my loved ones gathered to celebrate my life?".

Many of us wear the hat of kayak fisherman. Some of us write some, speak a little, share on forums and get caught up in that identity. I love that part of my life and enjoy helping grow the sport in my little corner of the universe. The reality of it is, that's only a part of who I am. I am guessing that is the case for all of you too.

I know the answer for today but when it's all said and done, what will I be?

I want to be known as quick to lend a hand and slow to judge. I want to be not just passionate but compassionate. I want to be as giving with my things as I am with my ideas. I want people to know me as an advocate for kids in the outdoors, safety, kayak fishing, nature conservation and family.

While I'm not overt about my faith and Christianity, I hope people will afford me grace and forgiveness when I'm an idiot because I am human and sometimes not a great one.

 I want my kids to pass on the outdoors to my grandkids if I am blessed enough to have them. I hope my wife understands my love for her is greater than the outdoors.

I have a lot of work to do.

My new projects with Yak Angler will allow me to advocate for my many loves, spread the fun and serenity of kayak fishing with even more people and allow me to refine the writing I do.

The opportunities I've been afforded and embarked upon were all started on a lake shore with my grandfather over 30 years ago. I can hear his laugh in the wind now almost as if he is telling others of our fishing tales from years past. If I can be half the man he was, I'll be twice the man I am now.

What will you be?

The Fish Talk. Listen.

I've known it for years. Fishing for trout teaches it to you. Fishing for bass teaches it to you. Fishing for reds teaches it to you. The problem is we bury it under piles of maps, tackle, gear, reports and fishing forum gossip.

So what is "it"?

Here "it" is: The fish will tell you what they want to eat. Figuratively of course. More accurately stated, for those willing to observe it, the fish you are looking for will show you what they want to eat. And upon further inspection, how.

I relearned this lesson on Saturday at Lake Winnsboro. While scouting kayaking locations from the bank, my brother and  I found bass actively feeding on shad. We launched the kayaks and set off in hot pursuit. After 45 minutes and zero strikes on myriad baits, I changed my mind. I reanalyzed the situation.

What were the bass feeding on? Shad.
What size were the shad? About two inches.
What colors imitate shad? White and silver.
What speed were the shad moving? Fast.
What baits did I have that I could mimic the shad? One. An Excalibur XR25 Lipless Crankbait in Sexy Shad.

I tied it on and second cast landed a fish. I immediately called to Lance and let him know what the pattern was. He tied on a Strike King Red Eye Shad in Chrome and started catching them as well.

Why did I spend so much time throwing my confidence baits? Because I was confident I knew what the fish wanted. They told me otherwise with their closed mouths near my baits and continued feasting around me. The fish offered display after display of what dinner they preferred. I just didn't want to see it. I wasn't actively watching for it.

Sometimes we need to slow down, watch, listen, learn from our surroundings and then and only then, using our acquired knowledge from past and present, give the fish what it wants to which it in turn will give us what we want.

This lesson applies to more than just fishing though sometimes it takes a day on the water to remind us. A simple fish can teach us what we refuse to hear from others. Well played Mother Nature. Well played. 

Do You Remember?

Do you remember the person who took you fishing for the first time?
Do you remember the first really good fish you caught and who you were with?
Do you remember the first time you went camping?
Do you remember the first time you really connected with nature whether on the mountain or lake or river?

Today I find my heart swelling and heavy at the same time thinking of my fishing heritage.

When I was very young, I remember both of my grandfathers taking me fishing. Sometimes it was on their boats, sometimes it was on the bank and sometimes in a float tube. I learned to catch perch, crappie, catfish, bass and carp. I learned different techniques, about different lures, how to cast different reels and how to watch a line. Probably the most important lesson I learned was to appreciate nature for its great intricacies. All of the serious conversations I had with these formative men revolved around fishing stories and metaphors. I learned how to speak with adults half a century my senior when sitting at the Whataburger either before or after a trip. Nickel Mug coffee and Breakfast on a Bun still represent fishing and breakfast to me even though I can have neither.

These men were completely opposite in their personalities yet so much alike.

 Papa Jim was very stoic and appeared to be the long lost brother of Lee Van Cleef. He taught me to work hard to enjoy the rewards of time off. His last words to me, as he lay in a hospital bed, were " Chris, you look bad. You're working too hard. You need to go fishing." I went that next day with my family and I caught the largest smallmouth bass I have ever caught, with my son right there helping me. He understood the seed he had helped plant had intertwined with my soul. It was something he could offer a remedy to. Though we spoke less and less as I grew older, moved away, and started a family, a glimpse of me could tell him what I needed. I miss that man every time I get on the water.

PaPa

The other is a joker. PaPa always has been and will always be the court jester. My four year old has all of his spunk and fire so I am constantly reminded of him even though I don't visit enough. The first question we always ask about is a fishing report. This is a man who has pulled my leg hair with needle nose pliers, told girls I brought to the fishing hole I said they were ugly,  and could find a sore spot to tease a rhino. I have always had fun when I am around him. He makes fishing fun. He always likes to compete too. When I was in high school and even into college I would spend spring break with him fishing at area lakes and keeping score the whole time. I can't count how many times we have been fishing but it's a lot and not enough at the same time. When Papa Jim passed it was Papa that I hugged the longest. I sobbed so much I must have soaked through the shoulder of his suit. He's a fighter and very strong behind all the jest. I hope I never lose him but I know better.

I see my Dad doing the same things with my son as my grandfathers did with me. I hope they come to feel this strongly for him. I am almost sure of it. Fishing, camping or even just spending time in nature with the grandfathers in your life should be a cherished time. It eventually ends and the torch may some day be passed on to you.

It's important to remember. Do you remember?