Wind and water prove tricky on opening day

I’D LIKE TO TELL you that I spent opening day of bass season fishing. But the sad fact is I didn’t. Instead, my buddy Tom and I spent the entire day trying to keep a canoe over the spot we wanted to fish – and cursing at the wind, which had ideas of its own.

Anyone who has ever tried to fly fish from a canoe in high winds knows it is not nearly as fun as it sounds. Tom and I knew better too, but we did it anyhow.

I think it is further proof that we are lacking maturity and the combined mental capacity of a rock.

Among the several great acts of futility a grown man can attempt – be they trying to look cool by wearing a man bun, pretending you understand and appreciate rap music, or attempting to learn how to actually use the television and satellite controls – the worst of them is trying to fly fish in high winds from a canoe.

Days like these are no place for a fly angler or a man with a toupee. It is an unwise and mindless act – like a Trump tweet, but worse.

At best, you can drag a line in the water and enjoy all the scenery that passes you by.

My buddy Tom and I did this while also commenting on the various shades of white in the whitecaps we were riding. Oh, sure, we also caught a few fish – basically enough bass so that we could say we weren’t skunked – but this was through no fault of our own. When you fish in the wind, you cover a lot of water. Sooner or later you’re going to find a stupid fish.

The only good thing about fishing in conditions like this are that it gives me a better appreciation of what my father went through during his stint in the Royal Navy. I’m sure the Atlantic was almost as bad.

Fishing in the wind is an acquired taste – for me, much like okra.

A typical conversation in a canoe in high winds goes something like this:

Person in the bow: “Catch my hat!”

Person in the stern: “Hey! Was that your new hat?”

The good news is there is no need to turn around. All you need do is stop paddling for three strokes and you’ll catch up with the hat – and passing jets.

That’s pretty well how it was for Tom and me on Saturday. We were blown all over the lake – mostly into places where we preferred not to fish, but occasionally into places where we wanted to fish but couldn’t because we were caught up in the shoreline vegetation or about to be dashed on the rocks and shipwrecked.

Otherwise, it was a ton of fun.

The strange part is this too is becoming an angling tradition for us. And this year these conditions have abounded ever since all the fishing seasons opened. Even so, we are, at least, learning at thing or two.

For one thing, we now leave our hats in the car. For another, we have learned to paddle somewhat effectively with fly line wrapped around us.

All in all, it is still a day of fishing and that is preferable to staying at home and doing yard work. The sad truth is I will fish any day I can.

I’d just prefer not to on a wind’s day.