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   My wife and I had just finished dinner when I glanced out of the window toward the lake. Much to my surprise, I saw our canoe gliding across the smooth surface of the water heading toward the island. Wondering who might be fishing at this time of the evening, I looked through the spotting scope to check it out. Our son, Damon, was out there fishing all by himself. I told my wife; I should go see if he needed any help.

   I grabbed two fishing rods that had lures on them, jumped in the Ranger, and drove down to the lake. Damon saw me coming and paddled over to the dock. He said he did indeed need some help fishing. I jumped in and Damon paddled us along the shore as I cast toward the weed beds. Each of my first five casts produced a fish. It was amazing the way the bluegills and crappies were biting. I was using a small spinner bait with a yellow grub. My philosophy on fishing is; I do not care what I catch as long as I catch something. This was definitely my night. None of the fish I caught were big, but there were a lot of them. Damon uses mainly large buzz baits. He does not like to mess with bluegills or smaller crappies. He fishes mainly for big bass. He was catching a few bass in the two-to-three-pound range, but I was out-fishing him at about ten to one.

   My little yellow grub was beginning to look a bit worn when I cast near a submerged log. It was immediately smacked with a strong jerk. I set the hook and started reeling. My ultralight rod bent over double. I fought the fish to the surface long enough for both of us to see it was a really big bass. When I would reach for it, it would dive under the canoe. The ultralight rod was too flexible for me to be able to control the fish. After several attempts, I gave up and worked it back toward Damon. I got it to the surface and Damon reached down to grab it by the mouth. The big fish rolled and dove again. This time, something gave way and my rod snapped back at me with no resistance. The big fish was gone. I checked my line to find the swivel that held my lure to the line had broken. Even Damon, who is not prone to exaggerating the size of someone else’s fish said it was at least five or six pounds. I was not too upset since we did get to see the beautiful fish and I was not planning to keep it anyway.

   Damon tried several casts in the same area hoping to get the big old fish to bite again. I think it went back to hide under its log and work on getting a small annoying lure out of its mouth. He did manage to catch another good-sized bass, but it was about half the size of the one I lost. Since I had no extra lures with me, I switched to my other rod. It had a small minnow looking plastic bait that worked, just not as well as my yellow grub. It was getting dark when we decided to call it a night. We both caught a few more fish as Damon paddled us slowly back toward the dock. I would say my fishing trip was a major success. Damon was also pleased, though a bit envious. I was just happy I could help on his fishing excursion.

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