My mind has been drifting to the upcoming springer season lately, the forecast for the upcoming year should be out very soon. Memories from last year have been running through my mind of the days on the water, and the fish in the freezer. But one memory keeps playing in my mind and it almost haunts me to this day.
Fishing had been red hot for the past weeks and the day was my turn to actually take my boat out for the first time, typically I find myself on others friends boats since mine is a little “frail”. Thankfully the people that I fish with are very accomplished fishermen and are typically on the fish. Well this day was my day to pilot and I was nervous that I would blank the day.
The day started out with herring and of course flashers! Lines deployed and weights ever so lightly ticking the bottom of the river bed, we were fishing. The first half of the pass was uneventful and my mind immediately started second guessing the choice of fishing spots, but we trolled on. Making the turn at the top of the run and heading back the same luck with no bites. Shoot, here we go, the ridicule and torment of a no fish day and we werent even into the first hour of the trip! Time to calm down….
Decisions in my head to try an adjoining troll was made without a word spoken to my fishing partner but he spoke up and asked where we were headed. Secret place was all I could think of for an answer. The water was shallowing up and I made the comment to watch the rods so we wouldnt snag on the old growth that I knew littered the bottom. No more did I get the comment out when the front rod slowly starts to go down, must be the bottom I had warned about when the rod came alive! A nice fight and the first fish into the boat! Ok, time to relax, we werent going to be skunked!
The day went on with a second fish landed, but sadly five others had been missed. Then the fateful words of “last pass” were made….. We had found a submerged hump in the river that on previous passes had two hookups so the course was made to hit the hump one last time. 50′, 45′ in route to 20′ depth with no takers on the upswing, the weights ticked the top of the ridge as it slowly started to drop off again, 25′, 30′ then 35′ when it happened. The rod in my hand started a slow tap tap as I looked to see if the depth had started to rise. Nope, a fish! Slowly lowering the rod tip to the water when a long tug of the line and a bass master hookset sunk the hooks into the jaw of the silver salmon! Number 8 for the day!
The fish headed for the bottom and wouldnt budge, the fight was a tug of war and I wasnt winning. Minutes later (which felt like and hour) the fish finally came off the bottom and slowly toward the boat. The water had a green milky tint so when the fish turned to its side at 10′ below the flash of silver was stunning, the fish is big. Line started to come off of the reel again as the drag relented to the strong pulls from below, the fish slowly drifted from view. Line and rod stayed taunt with pressure trying to coax the fish back to the awaiting net. Minutes passed and the fish slowly relented to the pull and came back into view again.
Closer the fish came toward the surface and the size was finally revealed, this was a very nice springer. Slowly putting pressure and a slow lift of the rod brought the fish closer to the net, and the end was in sight. Another lift of the rod and the fish decided for a last ditch effort to escape.
You know that moment when the movie goes to slow motion to add more drama? Your mind usually goes into slow motion when you know something bad is about to happen but it to fast to actually stop the action…. my thumb moved…. I dont know why but it moved, I knew it wasnt supposed to but it did on its own, I can still see it move in my mind. The reel started to spin as the fish headed toward the bottom again, my thumb kept moving. I felt the braid touch my skin and deep down I knew it was a mistake, but my thumb kept moving. More sink touched the braid as pressure was applied, my thumb kept moving. The fishes tail kept moving, my thumb kept moving but the reel stopped. Line and rod strain when the movie in my mind goes to full speed again. I see the tail make one more sweep of the water then slowly move into the green of the water. Line hanging limp with the flasher spinning in a rhythmic time. The hooks at eye level now tell the story, the bottom hook is bent straight.
Silence, my mind raced thinking did that really happen? How could I have been that impatient and thumb the reel? Silence is broken…. That was a big fish…. I sunk into the chair and called it a day.
Springer season cant come soon enough for redemption
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