For me it was a 14" largemouth bass caught on a rigged Creme Plastic Worm using an ultra light spinning rod and reel when I was 8 years old while fishing with three older cousins in a farm pond. I’ve been hooked ever since. I evolved to flyfishing in my forties and rarely use anything else now.
Similar circumstances, but with one of those very heavy (I now realize) fly-rod sized Hula Poppers. Biggest bass I’d ever caught up that point. Had no clue they grew so large. I was also about 10 or 11. Fishing in my grandfather’s farm pond. One of those hexigon metal fly rods with the fly about 2 ft. from the edge of the bank. I was sure it was a fluke! Then started tying, mainly what I thought were Mickey Finns. One I’d wrapped what must have been 20 wraps of lead wire just behind the eye that I still have. Almost like a what eventually became a Clouser or heavy beaded fly. Crude as could be but I sure caught a bunch of bass with it. Happened on the old fly a year or so ago and it sure brought back some memories. Wow! JGW
[This message has been edited by white43 (edited 11 February 2005).]
Poke - Wow !!! If I’d caught a 14" bass as my first fish, there’s no telling what would have happened to me.
As it is,when I was 5 years old, an old, old gentelman (Mr. John I was told to call him) who was sort of a driver and very slow yard man for the old couple next door, took me 2 blocks down the street to Turtle Creek with 2 cane poles. Within a minute or two I had caught my very first fish, a fully 4" long Bluegill.
That poor little Brim was patted and admired and loved by me 'til he was stiff as a board. I took him home, of course. And somehow my mother seemed to “lose” him by the next day. Mr. John was fishing for food, so he kept all the others we caught that afternoon for his supper. I “helped” him clean them, and somehow was fascinated with how they “worked” rather than getting squeamish.
I guess that little Sunfish ruined me, at least by conventional standards. I tried 2 or 3 different carrers in the “real” world with suit & tie, and finally, a bit over 15 years ago, became a sales rep for a bunch of fly fishing companies.
The Bluegill did it to me. I love Bluegills.
Poke, I caught about a 3 lb bass on a plastic worm when I was about 8 years old. It was one of those worms that was prerigged with 2 or 3 hooks protruding from it with mono attached. I was using some kind of Zebco and a fiberglass rod. I was fascinated with all the wooden lures in the adult’s tackle boxes—Lucky 13’s, Lazy Ikes,Creek Chubs, Plastic worms, Hula Poppers, Injured Minnows and on and on. For some reason, even then, I didn’t care for live bait. Artificials have always been my game.
xiphius,
I still love the bluegills. They are one of my very favorite fish to this day. They either make me laugh or smile. I guess I never really grew up.
I was probably 6 or 7 whenI caught my 1st undersized bluegill. Been hooked on panfish ever since!
Mike
I have loved to fish since I was a young kid, but the change to flyfishing was pretty sudden. For me, It was someone else’s fish. I had recently obtained a fly rod after not having used one since I was a kid. I used it a few times on one of the local lakes, but since access was difficult and my casting stunk, I really wasn’t using it. Then, one night, my brother and I went fishing together. As we started down the path to the water, carrying the tons of gear our live bait fishing required, a young man came along carrying a fly rod. we talked as we walked and he told us he came there often at night to catch Snook. I knew very little about fly fishing the salt and never thought of doing it in the dark. When we reached the beach, my brother and I started fishing with our jumbo live shrimp, sure that we would be the one’s getting the fish, while the guy with the fly rod went over to a bench and laid down. An hour or so went by and we were not having much luck. It was full dark by now, and old "flyboy was still sleeping. Just when I thought he would sleep the night away, I saw him rise and walk to the water. He was on his third or fourth cast when we saw him hook up. His reel was screaming and all we could see was the phosphorescent glow on the water as the fish thrashed. After a few minutes fight he got it in and we went over to check it out. It was the biggest Snook I had ever seen! My brother had his digital camera with him so he offered to take a picture and e-mail it to him. As he revived the beast and let it go, we chatted and he told me where to go, and who to talk to for a few lessons. I have only used a bait rod a few times since, and that was when hurricanes were approaching! Now it is often me who is nailing the fish in front of the bait guys and the only thing heavy I have to carry is the occasional large fish that I keep for dinner!
Bill
One evening when I was about 10 years old, my dad and I were in a rented rowboat on Lake Elmo. I was using my steel telescoping rod with bait casting reel, bobber, and worm. The 'gillies were really busy. Then I hooked something that just went nuts - back and forth, under the boat, out of the water. It took me a long time to bring it to where my dad could grab it. I asked him, “what IS that?” He told me it was a smallmouth. I still love fishing for those guys, but I don’t use the bait casting outfit anymore. Thinking about all the fish I caught last season, my favorite was an 18 inch smallie. He did NOT want to be brought in. Those guys really have an “attitude”.
My folks took us fishing all of the time. It was just one of the things that we did. It made a difference in what went into the pot.
When I was about 12 years old my Dad told me one day that I could go by myself. The world was in trouble then.
I fished for trout and salmon then. Got into some grayling fishing after I could drive.
The my Uncle would take me out on a boat salmon fishing. We also caught black sea bass,ling cod and halibut.
Now I am a crappie and gill fanatic.
I love the tug on the end of the line.
Rick
I was about 10 and I don’t think I was the brightest minnow in the bucket. I remember going to a paid lake and fishing off a dock and not catching any fish. Then I spotted a knot hole in the dock, where upon lying on my stomach I could see a fish about 8 inches long. I threaded my line and worm through this knot hole and almost instantly caught this lazing fish. I guess it never dawned on me that I could never bring this fish through the knot hole, for I remember lying there for about an hour trying to figure out how to land this fish to hand. I can still see the fish dangling in air bumping the bottom of the dock floor over and over, as other children close to my age came up with their ideas on how to land the poor fish. From that long ago day I have been hooked on fishing. I have figured out though not to fish through knot holes.
I remember fishing for bluegills at the local cemetery pond, digging bait out of the mud along the shoreline. Then one day a large Japanese Beetle fell into the water, and we watched in fascination as a dozen bluegill swarmed all over it, unable to eat it because it was too big. I borrowed one of my uncle’s fly rods, and started out fishing my bait chucking buddies. I’ve handed out a lot of flies to spin casters since then, telling them to use a bobber and reel in very slowly. I think they were excited at first (greater numbers and surface strikes), but I’m sure the dads got tired of unhooking all those fish for the kids (I usually take off after the first fish, so I don’t get roped in on the work).
I think I was born on water. I’m struggling to recall the first time I “officially” went fishing, with a line of my own. Lost to antiquity and fickle memory.
I vividly remember the first fish on a fly. It was one of those cold blooded fish. A rainbow trout. On a mountain reservoir about half way up Pike’s Peak.
My good friend, who is a casual fly fisher, and his wife invited us to join them on vacation in Colorado Springs. He mentioned he had his gear along, and asked if I wanted to go trout fishing.
I said sure, then went to a fly shop and just about changed my mind. With my limited knowledge, I could not see spending that sort of money on a rig to use one or two days a year.
So I went to a discount store and bought a “starter” kit. $29 if I recall correctly. Stiff, physically heavy rod, clunky reel, level 6wt line.
My friend didn’t laugh at me. He showed me how to get a little line out, explained what a leader was, then walked away. I struggled quite a bit that day, including breaking a couple hooks on the rocks. But eventually I got a blackish fly to land on the water about 30 feet out.
I’m just standing there, watching the tiny fly bobbing with the waves when this fish comes up from beneath, takes the fly, and disappears toward the depths. He bent the rod nicely, and he was a beautiful fish. I released him to swim another day.
I can’t explain how, but all of you will understand. That fish and those few moments seared themselves into the very core of my being.
When I got home, I did an internet search for “bluegill fly fishing”. I found articles by Hillfisher at FAOL. The rest, as they say, is history. And it has been totally rewarding on multiple levels.
Jim
Carp on a cane pole! I was maybe 4 when I landed my first one by myself. Every spring when my dad would get the garden ready we would go carp fishing because he put one under every tomatoe plant. That would start off the year for fishing.