justalonewolf007
Member
- Apr 30, 2007
- 657
- 0
Here is a summary of my first fishing trip...with some jetski fun too.
I kinda slept in (so did everyone else) so myself and company (not including 280z [my brother]) headed out late in the morning on Rainy Lake, MN. This is the first time I've actually done any real fishing if you disclude one ice fishing tournament that actually sucked.
It wasn't long before we had some nibbles, but since that wasn't enough then the powers that be started the fun of getting all our lines snagged on some rocks. Trying to get the boat circled around with a novice driver in order to try get things untangled was kinda tricky. I finally snagged one hook so hard that it just wasn't coming out. After everyone else had a try at yanking things around, the pole was handed back to me with the instructions to pull as hard as I could. I think the logic was that they figured I, beings the smallest, could exert all the force I wanted without breaking anything. They were, however, incorrect.
I was quite surprised, and nearly fell backwards out of the boat. Stupidly enough, the pole broke before the line did. None of us were able to grab the free end of the pole before it sank along the line to the bottom, So we had it figured that if we could get the line unsnagged, there might be something salvageable of the pole. We did get it loose, and we did manage to retrieve the end of the pole, but it was not a fixable break, so I bought my partner in crime a replacement rod on the way back to where he worked (erm...okay. I bought myself a fishing pole, and let him keep it in his car for a spare for the time being).
A spare rig was set up, and we were all back to fishing again. We found some Northerns I guess, because three or four lines were bit off in fairly quick succession. As a side note, resulting from all the hooks and jigs lost. I learned that I can't make myself touch a leech. Guess I have some girly tendencies afterall. Given, I didn't feel too bad since my partner in crime launched his fair share of leeches overboard when he thought they'd latched on to his fingers while trying to bait some hooks for my too-girly self, and one other chick in the boat.
She caught a small fish, but no one explained to me what it was, and I didn't get a good look at the thing before it was unhooked and chucked overboard for being too small. I was getting kinda worried about that, beings as they started joking about throwing me overboard for being too small to be slot sized. Jerks.
Then, my worries were fairly dissapated by the sensation of the pole trying to be yanked out of my hands, and I got all stoked and started yanking back and reeling like a madwoman as per instructions being yelled at me. Just when I caught a glimpse of the little buggar, the line let loose and I nearly took a hook in my own face, and earned the title "catch and release."
I had two more fish do that to me, effectively sticking the new name.
Then we got hungry and gave up. Then we rode jetskis, and they put me on some sort of a skidon't (Skidoo) and said "have at it, just don't hit the rocks" so I raged around and enjoyed that quite a bit. In fact, it was pretty awesome. They were fairly surprised at my attempts at ultra aggressive riding, beings as they figured I would putz around like a girl since I couldn't/wouldn't touch any leeches.
Then they dragged me around on a tube, and I caught some pretty massive air and knocked the wind out of myself and wrenched my shoulders because I got a little tangled up and couldn't let go.
Then there was more fishing to be had off the dock, and I actually started getting nibbles and bites pretty often, which had me extremely stoked, even though I didn't exactly know what I was doing. Upon hearing of our luck, some others wandered down just in time to watch me repeat that day's earlier catch and release trick not once but twice. Bugger.
Finally, when everyone left, something yanked hard on my line, and I got the little monster hooked on well enough to bring him close to the dock. Finally, I gave up trying to reel since the thing had tangled itself, and was entirely jammed up with fishing line. My only option was to swing the poor fish onto the middle of the dock and gently let him down. (I just said that last bit for the fish lovers, in all honesty, I slammed him as hard as I could so he wouldn't get away, beings as it was my first fish and all ).
I moved victoriously towards the flopping, flailing thing and positively identified him as a Tolle' sized Northern. This means it wasn't all that huge, just like myself.
At that point, I even reached out to grab the slimey thing too, since it was supposed to serve as supper later on, and discovered that it was not only slimey, but the thing had all sorts of TEETH!!! Beings as I am quite fond of my fingers, I yanked all of my fingers away and retreated as far as my line would let me.
Someone yelled for me to step on it, but that was fairly stupid too, since I failed to purchase proper lake footwear, and was actually shoeless. Not only that, but the slimey and sharp toothed thing was advancing on my position, and flopping angrily between me and the safe shelter of the land. I had no escape!
No one explained this part to me, or what the heck I was supposed to do when cornered by such an angry piece of supper. I mean, I do understand a little how that thing felt, and why it was so angry...I would be pretty pissed if someone lured me in with a tasty morsel of steak or pizza and then yanked a hook through my face.
Someone must have heard my shouts of excitment and made up sortof not-cuss words, because my partner in crime came flying down the dock and stomped the crap out of said predatory supper. Given, I don't think he meant to stomp the crap out of it, but he kinda slipped or tripped or something. This didn't exactly phase said northern too much, which was fairly amazing to me because I usually hold pretty still after getting the crap stomped out of me.
It took two shoed feet to apply pressure to my catch enough to sortof make it hold still, but the hook wouldn't come out by hand, so the very angry fish was yanked back into the lake with the hook still in his face where he got even more angry and nearly yanked me off the dock whilst some pliers were located.
I suppose he was angry because he was gagging or choking on a plastic worm that was halfway down his throat, but after a while, the thing finally calmed down a little bit.
Since the line was still clustermessed around the reel, I had to bodyslam the fish back onto the dock so we could free him. There were supposed to be pictures, but we only have one him in the water, angrily gagging and choking on the plastic worm he was stupid enough to try eating. Upon getting the hook pulled out of his face (probably hurt some) my prize northern that wasn't big enough to keep got all twitchy and tried to bite my partner in crime, successfully freeing himself to bounce off the dock once, then twice, before finding the edge and freedom.
I always figured fishing would be a lot more boring...guess I was way off. :whoa: :)
I kinda slept in (so did everyone else) so myself and company (not including 280z [my brother]) headed out late in the morning on Rainy Lake, MN. This is the first time I've actually done any real fishing if you disclude one ice fishing tournament that actually sucked.
It wasn't long before we had some nibbles, but since that wasn't enough then the powers that be started the fun of getting all our lines snagged on some rocks. Trying to get the boat circled around with a novice driver in order to try get things untangled was kinda tricky. I finally snagged one hook so hard that it just wasn't coming out. After everyone else had a try at yanking things around, the pole was handed back to me with the instructions to pull as hard as I could. I think the logic was that they figured I, beings the smallest, could exert all the force I wanted without breaking anything. They were, however, incorrect.
I was quite surprised, and nearly fell backwards out of the boat. Stupidly enough, the pole broke before the line did. None of us were able to grab the free end of the pole before it sank along the line to the bottom, So we had it figured that if we could get the line unsnagged, there might be something salvageable of the pole. We did get it loose, and we did manage to retrieve the end of the pole, but it was not a fixable break, so I bought my partner in crime a replacement rod on the way back to where he worked (erm...okay. I bought myself a fishing pole, and let him keep it in his car for a spare for the time being).
A spare rig was set up, and we were all back to fishing again. We found some Northerns I guess, because three or four lines were bit off in fairly quick succession. As a side note, resulting from all the hooks and jigs lost. I learned that I can't make myself touch a leech. Guess I have some girly tendencies afterall. Given, I didn't feel too bad since my partner in crime launched his fair share of leeches overboard when he thought they'd latched on to his fingers while trying to bait some hooks for my too-girly self, and one other chick in the boat.
She caught a small fish, but no one explained to me what it was, and I didn't get a good look at the thing before it was unhooked and chucked overboard for being too small. I was getting kinda worried about that, beings as they started joking about throwing me overboard for being too small to be slot sized. Jerks.
Then, my worries were fairly dissapated by the sensation of the pole trying to be yanked out of my hands, and I got all stoked and started yanking back and reeling like a madwoman as per instructions being yelled at me. Just when I caught a glimpse of the little buggar, the line let loose and I nearly took a hook in my own face, and earned the title "catch and release."
I had two more fish do that to me, effectively sticking the new name.
Then we got hungry and gave up. Then we rode jetskis, and they put me on some sort of a skidon't (Skidoo) and said "have at it, just don't hit the rocks" so I raged around and enjoyed that quite a bit. In fact, it was pretty awesome. They were fairly surprised at my attempts at ultra aggressive riding, beings as they figured I would putz around like a girl since I couldn't/wouldn't touch any leeches.
Then they dragged me around on a tube, and I caught some pretty massive air and knocked the wind out of myself and wrenched my shoulders because I got a little tangled up and couldn't let go.
Then there was more fishing to be had off the dock, and I actually started getting nibbles and bites pretty often, which had me extremely stoked, even though I didn't exactly know what I was doing. Upon hearing of our luck, some others wandered down just in time to watch me repeat that day's earlier catch and release trick not once but twice. Bugger.
Finally, when everyone left, something yanked hard on my line, and I got the little monster hooked on well enough to bring him close to the dock. Finally, I gave up trying to reel since the thing had tangled itself, and was entirely jammed up with fishing line. My only option was to swing the poor fish onto the middle of the dock and gently let him down. (I just said that last bit for the fish lovers, in all honesty, I slammed him as hard as I could so he wouldn't get away, beings as it was my first fish and all ).
I moved victoriously towards the flopping, flailing thing and positively identified him as a Tolle' sized Northern. This means it wasn't all that huge, just like myself.
At that point, I even reached out to grab the slimey thing too, since it was supposed to serve as supper later on, and discovered that it was not only slimey, but the thing had all sorts of TEETH!!! Beings as I am quite fond of my fingers, I yanked all of my fingers away and retreated as far as my line would let me.
Someone yelled for me to step on it, but that was fairly stupid too, since I failed to purchase proper lake footwear, and was actually shoeless. Not only that, but the slimey and sharp toothed thing was advancing on my position, and flopping angrily between me and the safe shelter of the land. I had no escape!
No one explained this part to me, or what the heck I was supposed to do when cornered by such an angry piece of supper. I mean, I do understand a little how that thing felt, and why it was so angry...I would be pretty pissed if someone lured me in with a tasty morsel of steak or pizza and then yanked a hook through my face.
Someone must have heard my shouts of excitment and made up sortof not-cuss words, because my partner in crime came flying down the dock and stomped the crap out of said predatory supper. Given, I don't think he meant to stomp the crap out of it, but he kinda slipped or tripped or something. This didn't exactly phase said northern too much, which was fairly amazing to me because I usually hold pretty still after getting the crap stomped out of me.
It took two shoed feet to apply pressure to my catch enough to sortof make it hold still, but the hook wouldn't come out by hand, so the very angry fish was yanked back into the lake with the hook still in his face where he got even more angry and nearly yanked me off the dock whilst some pliers were located.
I suppose he was angry because he was gagging or choking on a plastic worm that was halfway down his throat, but after a while, the thing finally calmed down a little bit.
Since the line was still clustermessed around the reel, I had to bodyslam the fish back onto the dock so we could free him. There were supposed to be pictures, but we only have one him in the water, angrily gagging and choking on the plastic worm he was stupid enough to try eating. Upon getting the hook pulled out of his face (probably hurt some) my prize northern that wasn't big enough to keep got all twitchy and tried to bite my partner in crime, successfully freeing himself to bounce off the dock once, then twice, before finding the edge and freedom.
I always figured fishing would be a lot more boring...guess I was way off. :whoa: :)
