My grand father was a fisherman no, he was an angler. He often went fishing with friends, but sometimes he went fishing by himself. On the walls of his garage were all different types of fishing poles. He had about ten different poles but he only used two, his ace in the hole and the lady-killer. The floor was speckled with fish scales. His workbench was a mix of tools, butterscotch candy and beer cans.
One evening my cousin and myself received a special gift from my grandfather, our first fishing pole. This fishing pole came out the package in three sections. It was made of bamboo and had a lacquer finish on it. The first words out of my mouth were, “Why are we getting those sticks to fish with?” My grandfather responded, “You have to learn to fish with a bamboo pole before you can get a rod and reel.” His philosophy was you had to first feel the fish before you could catch it.
When a six year old is told an old man’s philosophy of fishing, it’s a little like talking to a stone. All I could do was just stand there with a perplexed look on my face. The next day was to be our first fishing trip and I couldn’t wait.
On that following morning at 4:30 am my cousin and I were awakened out of a sound sleep. When
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Grandfather was angry with us because we were told to gently toss our lines and not to throw our lines like hot potatoes. Yet, my cousin’s line didn’t fair well, he got his caught in a tree. The trip to the fishing hole seemed to take hours. However, as I drive to the fishing hole today, it’s only a twenty-minute drive. We began our fishing lesson by first digging for worms and night crawlers. That precise moment was the happiest day of my life, happier than Christmas day. The other part knows he has to go on, with the path of life. My grandfather was a man of few words who believed the only words from a man were that of his actions. He was a tall man that had an imposing presence, but he was actually gentle giant that had the care of a nurse. This was the first time I can remember that we had a conversation with my grandfather. My grandfather then baited our hooks and we were ready for the sport of fishing. We were really going fish!
As we entered the car for our journey my cousin and I were filled with anticipation. We began speaking in a quiet chatter, but as we continued the journey our quiet chatter evolved into a loud irritating noise. My grandfather instructed me to give my line some slack and then pull as hard as I could.
Approximate Word count =
820
Approximate Pages =
3 (250 words per page double spaced)
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