How to Hook Your Dad

I always figured that if I was ever to write a "How To Book" it really would be on how not to do things. I have had nearly 50 years of field research in that area. I have accumulated a great deal of research in Father and son activities that have begun well and ended with a twist. One memory that stands out for me even after 34 years and can still make me cringe, is the day I joined my Dad, my Uncle, 2 other older men (in their 50s) and my girl cousin who was 3 years younger than me.

It was a warm summer day on a lake in north eastern Canada. We all piled in a large boat with enough food to last us 2 weeks. My Mother and Aunt really didn't want to be bothered by us coming back from fishing too soon. This vaction was so that these ladies could actually get some down time. They had suffered through raising a combined total of 12 kids. My cousin and I represented the end in sight for them. My Uncle guided the boat expertly to a spot guaranteed to have fish. My Dad and I sat on opposite sides of the boat which for a 15 year old was a perfect arrangement, as my Dad and I had one of our usual arguments over some silly topic like "had I ever fished before?" The others began to cast their lines expertly I observed, getting their fish hooks and lines far out in to the lake. Even my little cousin did a great job with her cast. It was my turn.

Now the argument that I had with my Dad was begun by my Dad, because he had never known me to fish and was anxious to give me some pointers on what not to do specifically "Don't hook anyone." I assumed my Dad was just trying to make me look bad. I had in fact fished before.........1 maybe 2 times but had never cast a line. How hard could it be? Everyone including my cousin was doing it swimmingly.

I began my cast by standing up in the side of the boat, swinging my pole over my head and letting the line go. I had just made my first cast and I was good. I caught something as soon as I had made my cast. I was great at this sport. What ever I caught must be huge, my pole bent and the line went taut. Whatever I caught must be a monster because it yelled. It even spoke English kind of. I looked over the boat and could not see my line. I looked up and began to follow my line. It went the wrong direction. Could the monster be flying? Could I have caught a bird. If I had it definately spoke English but sounded remarkably like my Dad. What ever it was the words became crystal clear "Stop reeling your line in you've managed to put a hook through my neck. " He was right. If I could have just found a way to walk on water............unfortunately there did not seem to be enough time to learn that particular skill. I have never seen my Dad so calm, probably from losing so much blood. Even when my Uncle pulled the hook out, my Dad's response was " For now why don't you just drop your line over the side of the boat. When we get to shore I will teach you how to cast." This was a generous offer considering the size of the hole in his neck.

Remarkably he did in fact teach me how to cast and I was a quick study, funny how fear has a way of speeding up the learning process. We both did go fishing in a boat quite a lot that vacation though never at the same time. Ever after that trip when preparing to go fishing my Dad and I never forgot the lessons we learned from "How to hook your dad." I always brought the fish hooks and he always brought the wire cutters.