Fun Monday - Home of the Whopper

Fun Monday is being hosted this week by Olive. Her challenge:

I would like to hear about your *whopper* of a fishing story. Yes, you heard it correctly whether it is fictional or non fictional I want to hear a fishing story from you.

My man fishes. He has fished since he was a toddler and his mother took him down to the little pond near their house and he dropped a line in made of a stick and string.

His equipment has improved considerably since then, and he has had a lot more success catching fish since he found out about hooks and bait and such.

When we began dating, I had never been fishing before in my life. I literally had no clue as to what went into catching a fish. My closest brush with fishing was stepping on a hook at the marina where my dad kept his sailboat when I was maybe ten years old. It was not a pleasant association.

This, in spite of having grown up near the coast of Florida and spending many, many weekends of my youth on a boat. Weird, huh?

Once we got past the "are-we-or-aren't-we going to hang out together" question, Darling Man took me fishing.

The first fish I ever caught was a large sheepshead. Strange looking critters with teeth like sheep (hence the name).

We were in a little boat on the Aucilla River. Apparently sheepshead are hard to catch, so Darling Man was shocked when I pulled him up out of the water and into the boat.

But sheepshead is not what we fish for. We go for the elusive redfish!

Darling Man would tell me stories about bringing in a redfish... how big a pull, how hard they fought. It sounded so exciting! So out we would go, over and over. He would catch them, but I would catch nothing.

Finally, we went out to a little exposed reef off Lanark Village. It had a little sandy beach and lots of reeds and when the tide came in, it was completely underwater. We went out there to fish the incoming tide. Standing in water up to my calves, sun beating down, I tossed my line and waited. And waited. And waited...

A small jerk and I began gently reeling something in.

As it got closer and closer, it fought harder and harder! "HEY!" I yelled, and DM came running down the beach to see what I had. He literally jumped up and down - "It's a redfish; it's a redfish!" he crowed.

Half an hour of tiny gains and finally, I could see my prize. I was exhausted. My legs trembled with exertion and my arms were shaking. "Is that a redfish?" I asked DM. Being taller than me, he had a better vantage point, could see down into the water.

"Uh.... no. Back up onto the beach before you land it, okay?" I backed up and kept cranking - and landed one of these:

I pulled it up on the beach, wondering what to do now. A boat was passing by with a father and son, and our friend Terry was with us as well. The four guys hovered over this poor little shark (he was about 4 feet long) trying to figure out how to unhook him without losing a finger. After much thrashing about, the hook finally came out and using oars, they pushed him back into the water.

He lay there exhausted, doing whatever the marine version of panting is, not moving. I stood in the water next to him, casting for redfish and keeping an eye on his recovery. Finally, his tail twitched and he moved his fins and I backed away. He slowly turned around and swam back out into the deeper water.

I can't remember if I actually caught a redfish that day. I sort of doubt it.

But there were other days and other redfish, and eventually I did catch one. He did put up a fight, but not as big a one as that hammerhead shark.

Now go visit Olive and see what fish tales other people have to tell!