Blue Ridge Country May/June 2024 - 8

Man-Fishing
Time to Move on from Bobbers
Realizing a rite of passage with a little help
from Granddad.
TEXT AND PHOTO BY BRUCE INGRAM | PHOTO STYLING BY JANETTE SPENCER
Eli holds his first ever smallmouth bass.
W
hen the school year
ended last May, my
nine-year-old grandson
Eli proclaimed
that he wanted the two of us to go fishing
a lot during the upcoming summer
vacation. So when his older brother
Sam went off to camp and Eli lost his
best playmate, I called Elaine's and my
daughter Sarah and told her to send
the boy across the hollow after he had
eaten breakfast.
Catawba Creek flows through the
Botetourt County, Virginia, land where
we all live, and the James River tributary
hosts primarily smallmouth bass
and two species of sunfish: rock bass
and redbreast sunfish. Eli has caught
plenty of sunfish from local farm ponds
while using worms beneath the classic
red-and-white bobber-just like generations
of rural kids before him.
But my grandson had never dueled
with a bass, gone wade fishing or used
artificial lures. So when Eli arrived, I
regaled him with the promise that we
were going " man-fishing, " something
that he had never experienced before.
I could tell immediately that Eli was intrigued
and intense about the challenge
presented.
After we made our way to the creek,
I showed him how to ease into the water
and then slide his feet along the
bottom so as not to create ripples and
spook our quarry. Next, I explained that
smallmouths prefer rocks and current
and told him we were going to cast lures
into a riffle that lies upstream. Then I
explained that we were going to use
lures that imitated a bass' two favorite
prey items: minnows and crawfish. Finally,
I detailed how to tie a clinch knot
to affix a Cordell Big O (in a crayfish
pattern) to his line and a Rapala X-Rap
(in a minnow hue) to mine.
We began casting into the swift
water, and though Eli was reasonably
adept with handling a spinning rod, I
could tell that he was struggling with
the finer art of making his crayfish imitation
dart and dip like a creature terrified
by a mossyback about to maul it.
It was then that I decided to initiate the
subterfuge that many dads and grandads
have deployed before me.
So when Eli arrived, I regaled him with the promise that
we were going " man-fishing, " something that he had
never experienced before.
8 BLUERIDGECOUNTRY.COM
A smallmouth hit my bogus bait, I
set the hook, then flipped the bail and
let the fish swim unhindered. Then I
announced to Eli that we should switch
rods for luck and see what happened.
My grandson grasped my rod, turned
the reel handle a few times and felt the
tug of the madly dashing bass.
" Granddaddy, I've got a big one
on! " Eli screamed. " Is it a bass? "
" Wow, yes, Eli, it's a big bass! Play
him. Don't horse him in. "
Too excited to follow my directions,
Eli furiously reeled in the eight-incher
and held it up for me to admire and him
to marvel at. I next showed Eli how to
immobilize any bass by positioning my
thumb in its mouth and my index finger
under the lip. After a few pictures,
I explained how to remove the treble
hook and release the fish unharmed.
Flushed with pride over his accomplishment,
Eli resumed casting with
several of his offerings ending up in
the trees or shoreline undergrowth. I
patiently explained that was all part of
fishing. The boy was able to catch two
more smallies of the same size, both
times requiring the change-the-rod-forluck
ploy.
But I was glad to perform the little
deceptions. After all, isn't
that what
dads and granddaddies are supposed
to do when they are introducing a new
skill to youngsters?
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Blue Ridge Country May/June 2024

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