Sometimes it’s the fish that gets lucky

YESTERDAY, I WAS ON a local lake fly fishing for bass and did OK, too. I lost a really good fish right at my feet – clearly my best fish of the year – and caught and released around 15 or so lesser bass in the 12- to 14-inch range. Luckily, on my way back to the landing I hooked into a good fish to save the day.

This was one of those happy events that anglers like me dream of.

You see there were about a dozen people on the landing and I suspect they were giggling at me since I was fishing from an inflatable pontoon boat – which is the bass angler’s version of a clown car.

Don’t get me wrong; these little one-seater boats are great, if only because deflated, they fit nicely in the back of my vehicle. You use oars and scuba fins to propel the boat. And they go hand in hand with a fly rod too.

The problem is they also cause people in big boats to change course and drive across the lake to have a closer look.

Then, they inevitably say things like, “Huh!” or “Cute,” “Did the big ship go down? or “Where are the other survivors?” And

when you combine this little watercraft with fly fishing, people start to think you are eccentric.

That’s why I was quite happy to hook into a very respectable fish for the lake I was on. The fish hit the fly hard and put on quite a show for those watching. It fought hard and jumped several times, which is always a crowd pleaser.

I landed it with my 5-weight rod soon enough and was quite pleased with myself since I had promised to bring one home for dinner. That’s why I left it in my net which hung between my knees in the water, kicked my fins hard and beached at the landing.

Once there, a few people congratulated me on catching a nice fish. Then disaster struck. A polite young mother and her three adorable little kids – three years or less I’m guessing, came over and had a look at the fish.

Then, I’m guessing the oldest one said, “Mommy, is he going to let the fish go?”

She told her child it was my decision. But it wasn’t really. As I was about to put the fish on ice, I looked up and saw three of the cutest sets of eyes looking at me with something that I can only describe as hope.

For the fish, this was the equivalent of a last minute reprieve from the Governor.

I looked at the kids and said, “Come here and watch me let this fish go.”

And we did. It took a bit of reviving but not much since it hardly left the water and was very recently caught.

I’ll be honest with you though; I was quietly praying that the fish would go belly up so I could look at the kids and say, “Well, we tried …”

But it was not to be. Soon that fish was showing a lot of life and, not long after, swam away no worse for wear.

Maybe I’m getting soft, but it seemed a fair trade for the smiles and clapping those little kids offered.

We ate pork chops that night instead. And even though mine was not the tenderest of cuts, I still felt good about it.

I just hope those kids are not around during deer season.