funniest fishing story

FAOL Community Fly Anglers Online
1

I been thinking about Jeff’s post and how everyone is having a bad case of shack nasties and thought this might help. After all, laughter as they say is the best medicine. So with that in mind I’m going to tell you all the funniest fishing story that ever happened to me personally. And that’s saying alot.

I was about 12 or 13 when my Dad and I was fishing in a local watershed. Around here, a watershed is a great big pond or little lake that is there for flood control, I don’t know if its called that everywhere you go or not. Anyway, we were in our fiberglass canoe, which we still have. We usually fished for bass or panfish, and we mostly always fished with plastic swirl tail jigs you can get at wal-mart. We’d buy the weighted jig head hooks slide our plastic jig on and we were set. I’d say today, that you can fish a jig like that for less than a quarter, at that time we might have had 5 cents invested.

Anyway, the woods grew right down to the water’s edge on the far side, providing alot of cover for fish and that is where we was at. I really believe I can paddle right back with in 50 ft or so to the same spot today. That’s how big an impact this tale had on me. We were fishing and had caught a few, when all of a sudden my Dad’s pole bent over double. I thought he had a whale on, I’d never seen a rod bend over so far. When up from the depths came a snapping turtle. He had hooked it on the side of the shell somehow, we still haven’t figured out how that happened. Now I don’t know who all is reading this and I don’t know if you have snapping turtles in your area or not, but they aren’t your average turtle. They bite! Really, they do and they bite hard and fast. I’ve always heard that when they bite you they’ll hang on until it thunders. Now I’m guessing that is an old wive’s tale, but I’ve never tried one out to see if that’s true or not. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but Dad wanted his jig back.
ALL 5 CENTS WORTH, I feel I need to stress that part, especially when I’m telling this in front of him. :slight_smile: Now at this point I probably should point out that the turtle was about 10 to 12 inches across, but he was mad as H E double hockey sticks. So, Dad takes hold of his line, hand safely above the reach of the turtle, and sort of bounces and jerks at the line.

He got his jig back. Only one small problem. He bounced and jerked the line to hard.

Turtle lands in the bottom of the canoe.

Right in front of me. And I only thought it was mad before. Somehow, there must have been a rip in the space time continuum or something, because it suddenly grew to at least 3 feet across. It seemed only seconds to me, yet somehow it must have lasted hundreds of years for that turtle, because of how much he grew. You’d think after a couple of centuries or so, he’d have calmed down, but he didn’t. I didn’t know it, but turtles sort of hiss when they are that upset. He had his head reared back and was threatening a launch in my direction. For the briefest of moments I remember thinking, it’s a bueatiful day, no telling how long it’ll be before it thunders. Then I was up and ready to do battle!

Now at that time I couldn’t swim, so I didn’t stand up. Even though I did have on my PFD. Somehow, I knew if I flipped the canoe the turtle would be even more dangerous in it’s own element. I did however have one weapon. I don’t think a viking warrior could have come out with his sword any faster than I did my paddle. It was up over my head and getting ready to deal a devestating blow, when my Dad yelled, “Jason STOP!”

It shows how I was raised, that even though I was facing the most deadly enemy I had ever seen, I stopped. I don’t suppose kids are raised that way as much anymore, but I stopped immediately. Though I’ll have to admit it crossed my mind that dear old Dad had just lost his. The next words proved however that Dad was still in his right mind. “You’ll knock a hole in the boat!”

(children please don’t read the next paragraph)

Knock a hole in the boat? $#%& I was going to knock a hole in the bottom of that watershed and drain the water out of it with that turtle. I mean I was going to knock the earth off it’s axis, I was scared out of my mind and I was fighting for my life. Hole in the boat my %$$.

It’s hard to explain, but I took my paddle and Dad took his and we sort of “chopsticked” the turtle back to freedom. Wierd thing was it went back down to 10 or 12 inches across when it got out of the boat. I think it was still mad at us though.

Well, I didn’t get eat or bitten by a turtle. And I don’t know if a snapping turtle will bite and hang on till it thunders. But the earth is still rotating on the same axis the good Lord put it on. And Dad got his 5 cent jig back. On the very next cast though, he hung it up in a tree.

Far as I know it is still hanging up there.

Hope you enjoyed the story, at least half as much as I get in telling it. Especially in front of Dad.

hNt

2

Oh, my, gawd!!! That’s wonderful!!! That’s a story you can tell to your children, and your grandchildren, and any one else with in ear shot … and they’re going to roll with laughter!! Thank you!!

3

I don’t think, no I know, I can’t top that story. I’m not a good enough writer to do so but I will tell the story of Kuma going fishing with me in the boat for the first time.

Most of you have seen a picture or two of Kuma that I have posted up on the board and you know he is a rather large Newfoundland dog. Newfies as a breed are rather fond of water. As a matter of fact they like water so much they could probably find water in the middle of the desert if pressed to. Because of this love of water newfies might not be the best fishing companions around. Kuma will go swimming as soon as he sees the river or lake as the case may be. This doesn’t really bother me much as I don’t catch many fish anyway but it does bother some of the other fishermen if present. But this isn?t story about Kuma bothering fishermen. This is a story about taking Kuma going fishing in the boat his first time.

My boat is what we call a river sled meaning it is jet powered and can run in 3 or 4 inches of water. Now, my boat works well with 2 full grown men or 1 full grown man and 1 full grown newfie. I could take more but the boat doesn’t perform quite as well. So this day it was Kuma and myself going fishing. Unloading and readying an 18 foot sled isn’t a big deal for one guy but it is harder than with 2 people. I am not complaining just pointing out the extra work for me to launch alone. Now to get the gear stowed and Kuma loaded up.

Getting Kuma on board wasn’t really hard. I mean he loads himself into the back of a pickup so all I had to do was stop him from swimming and get him in the boat. This took 10 or more minutes. Not too difficult. Finally underway and heading up river just about to the middle and full speed when Kuma decides he wants to go swimming again and off the boat he jumps ka-sploosh, into the middle of the river. Great. Now Kuma weights about 185 pounds. I am not grabbing him by the collar and hauling his butt back into the boat. So I “herd” him with the boat to the nearest sand bar. Anyone that knows anything about jets knows they don’t handle worth a darn at slow speeds. This “herding” took some doing. Kuma could easily out maneuver me and the boat. By the way newfs are very strong swimmers and from what I can tell might be able to swim all day long. I didn’t find out if Kuma could go all day but I know now it is likely he could. Anyways, I finally get the dog to a sand bar and convinced him to get back in the boat when he was done swimming. Kuma aboard and we are underway again. Back up to speed and heading up river. A few minutes go by and yep, the big dummy decides to go swimming again. Ok, that’s it. I’m done. Go through all of the same “herding” to the sand bar and get the dog back on board. This time I have a hold of his collar and he is staying on the boat til’ I get back to the launch. Now it isn’t really hard for me to load the boat up by myself but it is easier with somebody else around with only two legs. I’m not complaining, just saying.

One of the shortest fishing trips made in the boat that year and the only one Kuma went on. Oh, I still take him fishing just not in the boat.

4

… both of them. Thanks, guys.

John

5

Kerry,
Just a minor clarification … MOST newfies love water. My kids had one that was terrified of water … even rain caused him to tremble! One of his last trips to the lake, my son threw a stick for him out into the water, and Orion just stood there and looked at him with that “If you think I’m going out there, guess again!!” look on his face.

6

I don’t know the wisdom of telling this story as there might still be some of the First Penticton Scout Troop around to read it.
Back in the 1960s My friend John and I were going on a summer holiday camping/fishing trip up Ellis creek. Ellis creek is full of Brookies, Cutthroat and the occasional Rainbow lower down. Up about a ? mile there was a Scout camp with about 20 or so tents, including a couple of wall tents for the Cook-shack and the leaders to sleep in. We Junior forest wardens considered them to be huge sissies. We took a few vegetables some salt and pepper and lived off the land so to speak. We carried single shot 22’s machetes and wird snares John had a couple of #3 leg hole traps for Racoons.
The Scouts were only allowed a tiny, to my mind, useless pocket knife if they were over 14. We shot and trapped everything we could get our hands on and ate what we were able to get. Don’t get me wrong I was a Scout in the Second Penticton and loved it but it just wasn’t the same as the Wardens. We wore jeans, the scouts were stuck with short pants. Stove pipes we called them, they are not a smart choice in mosquito and tick territory. Thank god that someone in the late 1960’s had the Scouts do away with the requirement for short pants.
On to my story…… As we passed the Scout encampment of about 60 Scouts and their leaders they began to hoot and jeer at us as we walked past with our packs and fishing gear. It was almost dusk so we set up camp about a ? mile up the creek from them away from the creek on a bench of land. Not in the sand of the creek bottom like the scouts had done. We intended to get up bright and early for morning hike to the 10 mile dam.
Alas In the middle of the night some of those little illegitimate children of unmarried parents…. ( that’s the politest way I can say it on a family website. ) Raided our camp and tossed two buckets of cold water on us as we slept under the stars. They soaked our sleeping bags, making them useless until we dried them by the fire. One of them stole our axe and i guess they threw John’s traps in the creek. So we got up and stoked the fire to dry the bags. It was almost dawn by the time they were dry so we carefully packed the packs. We made sure the fire was out by relieving ourselves on it. The morning wind drift down the creek took the smell to their camp. A kind of thank you for the midnight visit. Instead of hiking to the lake for our first day as originally planned we went 3 miles up the creek where the canyon is only 20 feet or so across. We spent all day building up a really nice rock dam which took all day to fill to capacity. We slept like logs after all that exertion and were Up just about 2 hours before dawn. Time to quickly as we could dismantle the dam. Man did that water ever rush down that creek-bed. We then climbed out of the canyon and hiked over to Penticton Creek and spent our two weeks camping there.
Once back at home I had to face my Dad and the Scoutmaster. It seems that they lost a lot of equipment and had to cancel their little weekend adventure in the great outdoors. Oh! Boo Hoo. It seems we caught them just at the right moment with enough water to wash most of their stuff down the creek and soak most of them good. I bet none of the 1st Penticton ever camped in the creek wash ever again.
At first I was really catching it from a very irate parent until John mentioned to my Dad that we were gonna let the soaking go until we realized that they had stole our axe. When he did so the Scoutmaster went over to his truck and brought back my grandfathers Hudson’s bay axe and asked is this it?
My Dad said yes that’s my fathers axe. So you people stole things from these boys first did you? You could just see the anger in Him. As the Scoutmaster stammered out something my Dad stopped him right there and said You’re trespassing, get off my property. I’ll have no truck with thieves. You wanted a war and you got one. Serves you right. Maybe next time maybe you’ll think differently.
I still got a whuppin and so did John when he got home , but we both agreed that it was well worth it.
Oh yeah we caught lots of fish too. ( it’s a fishing story right? )

7

Bill a friend of mine had a very large black Newfie, big even for a newfie Mc gee was the gentlest dog I have ever seen. He absolutly loved children.

However when you walk with a Newfie everyone and I do mean everyone asks the same dumb question…
What do you feed him.

Bill would assume a deadpan look and say well… there aint no slow kids in our neighbourhood.

8

I have one. I was bringing a first timer fishing in Arkansas. He was a 19 year old kid from our church, and he had been dying to have me take him fishing. We had about a 7 hour drive, and we were fishing July 4th weekend so we were going to have plenty of company. My older brother was driving in the next day so I was really looking forward to the trip. As me and the kid were driving, I was trying to teach him what little I know to get him prepared for his first fly fishing trip. I explained water releases, casting techniques, knots…etc. After about the fifth hour I started to get bored so I decided to make some stuff up. I told him earlier to respect other fishermen, so I went back to that topic. I told him every time he walked behind a fellow flyfisher, he was supposed to yell “jack in the box” to make them aware he was in the back cast. It actually makes good sense, and he never even questioned it.

So, my older brother shows up the following day, and I tell my brother what I told the kid, and he agreed to keep it going. Well we fished all weekend, and every time the kid walked behind me he would say “jack in the crack”, or any variation he could think of other than jack in the box. The fishing was so good, I had put it out of my mind. The weekend ended, and me and the kid started our drive home. I was merging into traffic in Memphis, and I pulled in behind a guy and said “Jack in the box”. The kid started talking. He said"you know how I am supposed to say jack in the box every time I walked behind a flyfisher, and you know how i would joke and say jack in the crack or whatever came to mind when I walked past you". He continued, “well, I walked past your brother, and said jack in the crack, and he turned around and said ‘JACK IN THE BOX’, kind of scolding me, and it sort of hurt my feelings. So every time I walked by other fly fishermen, I made sure to yell jack in the box,(he hesitated here), and I don’t know why, but each time is seemed to start really awkward conversations”

I explained that people who flyfish are good as gold, but tend to be a solitary bunch. I still get a kick every time I hear him yell “jack in the box” while on the river. So if a guy walks behind you and yells jack in the box, do me a favor, and keep the joke alive.