Sunset Fishin' With Family

Luckily Steve has a friend who loves fishing who has a truck to take him over to the river, because I had the car for another appointment yesterday afternoon. When I finally reached the river, those two and Steve's eldest son with his wife were already there, very well established, and much better dressed for the cool windy evening than I was. I sneaked up on them from behind with my camera for the first shots.

 

Then the fish tales began. This late in the day they chose to fish for catfish, so a small container of chicken livers had been purchased for bait. This is a catch-and-release crowd, but they had their own photos with their phones showing off the two catfish which had been caught. Just for proof, you know. Because other fishermen tell lies. The son's line had caught one, the daughter-in-law's line caught the other. I put it that way because it turned out she reeled both fish in. Her husband was otherwise occupied when his line got struck but nobody wanted to lose the fish, even just for bragging rights. He credits her with both fish, she credits him with one.

Steve managed to lose his bobber before I arrived. (He'd brought two poles, being legal on the river between two states, and was trying his luck with both methods with nightcrawlers for the bobber's line.) I took a hike downriver and managed to locate it. Shore current is very slow because the river is very shallow for a ways out along the landing side. It's deeper near the other, steeper bank, and one can watch bubbles, bugs, and detritus float by to easily see that is so, at least in late summer's low water levels. It wasn't too far before I located his bobber, but I was not about to ruin my shoes just to wade out and fetch it. No way in hell I'd head out barefoot either, no matter how much sentimental value that particular bobber holds for him. I like my feet, even as malformed as a long-ago doc told me they are.  I did take a picture to prove I'd found it, but edited it out later for lack of quality.

It was a good-natured time for all, even though no future fish were caught. It may have been the noisy motor on a canoe pulling in and the truck backing into the river to (help?) loading. Perhaps the tendency of the livers to fly off the hook during casting. (Maybe forgetting to flip the bails back before casting had something to do with that: hook stops abruptly, liver keeps going. More than one person involved there. Naming no names.) It may have been the surface-feeding frenzy before I left.  Much as this family loves fishing, on this night I believe fishing was primarily the excuse for getting together.

Shortly before it got too cold for me, still dressed for my afternoon instead of an evening at the river, a tiny break in the clouds lit up the far bank of the river in a swath of gold that slid slowly downstream before disappearing. It was the perfect note to end on.