My grandfather passed when I was 13, that was 18 years ago. Although I was too young to realize at the time, in the short time I was privelaged to know him, he planted the seeds in me that will be with me for the rest of my life. What I do remember about him is that he had a neverending love for his family, especially his grandchildren. He had no favorites and treated my siblings and cousins all the same; he loved us to death. However, I've always felt that I had a very special relationship with him, probably because he took me fishing, and we almost always caught fish. He was a fisherman to the bone. Having worked for International Harvester, he was always driving around in either a Scout or Travelall, towing his boat to his next fishing adventure.
Many times upon the return from his fishing trips, he would have the whole family over for a feast. Typically it included lots of salmon, clams, oysters, halibut, cod, or whatever else he had caught. Those are some of my fondest memories of him.
The guy just knew how to catch fish, and with any luck he was going to teach me how to do the same. Sometimes before a fishing trip with him, he would have me come over the night before, and we would camp out in his backyard (if we were fishing close to home) to give me a more sense of adventure. I was very young, so I was none the wiser; I thought it was the cats meow.
On one such outing, we set up the tent in the backyard and settled in for the night. I remember it rained like crazy that night, I got a little cold. By morning the rain had stopped and we loaded our gear into the Scout and headed off on my first sturgeon fishing trip. He had a honey hole on the Columbia around Camas, and we anchored up. Never wanting to miss a bite, he placed bells on the tips of our rods, then he proceeded to take a nap. I was too excited for napping, and waiting for the fish to bite and that bell to ring was torture. When the bell did ring, I grabbed the rod and started yelling to him that I had a fish. He woke up and talked me thru the battle. Only thing was, I was too small to fight the fish to the end. I handed the rod to him and he finally got the fish close to the boat, then gave the rod back to me and grabbed the net. A few minutes later I had my first keeper sturgeon. I was 4 years old at the time.
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I will never forget that fish. My first ocean fishing experience I was around 8, and we were heading to Tillamook to catch some bottom fish. I got sicker than heck that day, but we caught fish. I did learn that a 17 ft. boat gets washed around pretty good on a sloppy ocean. But, he had taken me ocean fishing, and that was pretty cool.
By the time he passed, our fishing trips together were few and far between as I was heavy into my main passion of playing baseball. Our last fishing trip was on a lake, can't remember which one, trout fishing on a summer day.
I only wish he could have stayed around a little longer so I could have picked his brain more on the in's and out's of fishing, because whatever he did, he always brought home fish.
So here's to you grandpa :cheers:, thanks for planting the seed, and for every fish I catch, I say thank you, because I know that you had a big hand in getting that fish onto my line.
Steelie28
Many times upon the return from his fishing trips, he would have the whole family over for a feast. Typically it included lots of salmon, clams, oysters, halibut, cod, or whatever else he had caught. Those are some of my fondest memories of him.
The guy just knew how to catch fish, and with any luck he was going to teach me how to do the same. Sometimes before a fishing trip with him, he would have me come over the night before, and we would camp out in his backyard (if we were fishing close to home) to give me a more sense of adventure. I was very young, so I was none the wiser; I thought it was the cats meow.
On one such outing, we set up the tent in the backyard and settled in for the night. I remember it rained like crazy that night, I got a little cold. By morning the rain had stopped and we loaded our gear into the Scout and headed off on my first sturgeon fishing trip. He had a honey hole on the Columbia around Camas, and we anchored up. Never wanting to miss a bite, he placed bells on the tips of our rods, then he proceeded to take a nap. I was too excited for napping, and waiting for the fish to bite and that bell to ring was torture. When the bell did ring, I grabbed the rod and started yelling to him that I had a fish. He woke up and talked me thru the battle. Only thing was, I was too small to fight the fish to the end. I handed the rod to him and he finally got the fish close to the boat, then gave the rod back to me and grabbed the net. A few minutes later I had my first keeper sturgeon. I was 4 years old at the time.
I will never forget that fish. My first ocean fishing experience I was around 8, and we were heading to Tillamook to catch some bottom fish. I got sicker than heck that day, but we caught fish. I did learn that a 17 ft. boat gets washed around pretty good on a sloppy ocean. But, he had taken me ocean fishing, and that was pretty cool.
By the time he passed, our fishing trips together were few and far between as I was heavy into my main passion of playing baseball. Our last fishing trip was on a lake, can't remember which one, trout fishing on a summer day.
I only wish he could have stayed around a little longer so I could have picked his brain more on the in's and out's of fishing, because whatever he did, he always brought home fish.
So here's to you grandpa :cheers:, thanks for planting the seed, and for every fish I catch, I say thank you, because I know that you had a big hand in getting that fish onto my line.
Steelie28
