funny fish tales

Hi everyone... I'm a newbie and just signed up minutes ago...

I have a 'fish tale.' This happened in Texas several years ago. My ex and I lived in Wichita Falls which is surrounded by (if I remember correctly) 5 lakes... We were fishing at Lake Arrowhead on this rock jetty.

I was casting and slowly reeling in... I decided to step sideways on the rocks to cast to a different place... Just as I was about to step sideways, I looked down to see where I was going to put my foot... and there was this huge rattlesnake laying between two rocks... GULP! It was trying to swallow a catfish, head first! (Which was probably smarter than trying to swallow it tail first!) I called my ex and he came over and picked up a rock and threw it at the snake... :

That snake let go of that fish so fast and dove for the water and was gone before I could catch my breath. I would never have dreamed a rattlesnake would catch and/or eat a fish... Much less dive for the water... It still amazes me to this day... It was scary and fascinating at the same time...

Anyway, I haven't fished in Colorado yet... But, just got my license, some poles, and some tackle... and I'll be tackling some of the reservoirs and maybe the South Platte (if I can find a place where I can keep the d*mned fish... ;D ;D ;D I'll be gosh-darn if I spend all that energy fishing and not eat the fish! grrrrr! me hunter-gatherer, cavewoman!
;D ;D

Wish me luck (or break a leg or whatever) and I'm looking forward to chatting and learning from you all...

Kari Masoner
Denver (Capitol Hill)

This story is about getting ready to go fishing instead of actually fishing. As a young boy I thought of only four things, sports, fishing, hunting and food. Maybe not quit in that order. The trouble with fishing was the need for bait. This meant WORK and that was one subject I tired to avoid. How ever gathering bait was not concidered WORk, that was until the age of twelve. That spring the fever hit me strong and I could hear the fish calling my name from miles off. As I tried to explain this to my parents, my father made the remark that he had seen thousands of worms out in the back forty acres. So with the shovel in my hand off I went. As I proceded to dig up the back forty with my father following behind to gather any worm that I dug up, and since the ground was now tilled he might as well plant his spring crops. 3 days and several blisters later did dad remember that is wasn't the back forty but the middle forty that he had seen them in. Not to be out sramted by this adult again I dug up the front forty instead, just to discover they had indead moved to the middle forty. to be continued.

Mom gave me an old bottle and told me to make sure that I rinsed it out. Why would I do some thing like that this way it would give the hoppers some thing to eat. It was no problem getting these hoppers in the bottle. You could hold their legs together and slip them into the bottle. It was when you tried to retrieve them tha the problem developed. As you would turn the bottle upside down they would spread their legs and wedge themselves against the skinny neck of the bottle and refuse exit. No matter how much you shook the botle they would hold their ground. That was until you placed the bottle on the ground then they would all make their escape to freedom. Problem solved I would place a lid on the bottle and this would keep them in captive. That worked fine except for one problem, being a young boy my mind would wander and off I would go on a different adventure. It would only be 3 or 4 days later when I would recall about my bait that I would I recall where I left them. Out in an old fort that I had built out in the hot summer sun. As I would open the lid and my eyes would turn into running rivers and a near by family of skunks would start to gag would I replace the lid and throw the bottle in the trash. I think I will use lures.

A few years back we went to visit my in-laws in Alabama. Of course we could not go to wihtin a mile of Pickwick lake and not go fishing. so we headed to the local bait shop an bought our licenses. While at the shop I asked "do i need a second rod stamp?' well the guy looked at me like I was not all there. I think my "yankee accent" made it difficult for him to understand me. he replied, "why would you want a stamp on your rod?'. So then I asked "how many rods can I use at one time?". His reply, "how many do you have?". apparently you can use as many rods as you want down there and it is not unusual to see people "spider rigging" for crappie. (one or two people fishing from a boat with 8 or ten rods of diffeernt lengths fishing for crappie.

Well, we got our licenses and when I asked for night crawlers all the had was "red worms". They don't sell chicken liver down there, they sell "rooster livers".

fI don't know why they only sell rooster livers, do they save the hens for breeding or something?


So now we are down on the bank fishing and my boys were catching bluegill nothing big but lots of them.

Little did we know that people don't catch bluegill in Alabama. They catch "bream" which is pronounced "brim".

This guy comes up and asks about the fishing. "you catching anything" well my oldest son tells him yeah lots of bluegills. This guy looks at him very confused like, "bluegill?" he said.

My son realizes they are speaking 2 defferent languages and says in his best southern drawl, "we got a mess of brim" well the guys eyes lit up and said, bream was his favorite fish and plopped right down next to us and started fishing.

Its amazing the diversity in this country.

Dan

In the 1960's (no comments about old farts, please!) I was fishing for bluefish off the jetty at Ocean City, Maryland. I was throwing shiner minnows into the main current, weighted down with a couple of split shot to make them sink quickly, otherwise the seagulls would steal your bait if it stayed on the surface more than a second or two.

I made a cast and never saw my minnow hit the water. I looked out there for a moment and never did see it. So I closed the bail on my spinning reel, and instantly the rod bent straight up! I had caught a seagull that picked my minnow right out of the air.

That seagull gave me the fight of my life. He was peeling off line, flying left and right and up and down, and other people stopped fishing just to come and watch me fight that seagull.

I finally wore him out and got him on the ground beside me and got the hook out of him. I baited up and threw out again, and when I looked down, that seagull was still standing there at my feet with his wings hanging down and his mouth open, gasping for air. He stayed for about five minutes and finally recovered enough energy to fly off.

Believe me, if you get tired of fighting bluefish, try a seagull, they are a real test of your tackle!

At one point in my life I was a staff member at the University of Illinois. My buddy owned a lakeside cabin in Minnesota, which I was free to use with his blessing.

Every summer for four years running, I took my family up to that cabin for a week, and it was just plain beautiful. We loved it. Except for one thing. We fished our heads off, and caught very few fish.

Every summer, the Minnesota locals told us the same thing. "Yah, vell, you shoulda been here last veek, da fish were yust yumping right into da boat, you bet ya."

Then I got a chance for a job change. I accepted a position at the Freshwater Research Institute at the University of Minnesota.

Hot Damn!

I bought a house right on Lake Minnetonka. I had a dock in my back yard, sticking right out into a 22 square mile lake full of Pike, Crappies, Bass, and Walleyes. And I said, "All right, you suckers, now come and tell me how good the fishing was last week. Because this time, I'm gonna BE THERE LAST WEEK!!!!"

That first summer, my boys and I never caught a blessed fish. I didn't know the lake well enough, and I didn't know how to fish it. (I do now, but I'm in Colorado now.)

Finally one day, my neighbor came over, and said, "Too bad you weren't here last year. They were really hitting then."

They are still looking for his body.