NORTHWEST ARKANSAS — Editor’s Note: Lynn Owens of Prairie Creek is the winner of the 2012 fish story contest annually sponsored by this newspaper’s Outdoors section. Here is her story, along with a selection of other entries from the contest.
Flying Fish
By Lynn Owens / PRAIRIE CREEK
My father’s only hobby was fishing - fl y fishing in streams, trolling from a boat,casting from the edge of a lake. He loved it all.
He had very little time for fun while I was growing up. So it was quite an occasion when, one day when I was about 12 years old, he took me on a fishing trip, just the two of us.
We went to a lake and he strung my line and attached a hook and baited it for me. He explained how to wait for a pull in my line and then to gently jerk the hook so it caught in the fi sh’s mouth and then to reel him in.
Not long after I cast my line, I felt a nibble and I was so excited that,instead of setting the hook gently, I whipped the fish, hook, line and all, into a tree directly behind me.
Dad could see how excited I was and he patiently got the whole mess down from the tree, put the fish on a stringer and fixed up my pole again. He reminded me to take it easy if I felt a pull on my line.
Within a minute or two I had another one. And once again I was so excited I whipped the fi sh right back into the tree.
By now there were quite a few people around and I thought theywere thinking what good luck I was having. It didn’t occur to me they were there to watch me fling the next 10 or 12 fi sh right into the tree.
Every single fish I caught excited me as much as the last one, and every fi sh hung in the tree for my dad to collect. When we got home he took a picture of me with my catch. I was so proud of myself.
Now I’m nearly 71 years old and my fish story still brings a smile to my face.
Unlikely Swimmer
By Chris Hofferber / BELLA VISTA
It was a beautiful day a couple of weeks ago. We’d finally got our boat out on Lake Windsor in Bella Vista.
My husband, Jim, and I were enjoying a morning that only being on a lake with fishing poles can give. I was using a crank bait and Jim was using a plastic worm.
The bass were hitting on both and the bass were herding shad right next to the bank. So we were casting very close to the bank and sometimes on to the bank, then pulling the lure into the water.
My husband cast his plastic worm on the bank. As he pulled it into the water, there was a huge splash.
He thought a big fi sh had come up out of the water and grabbed his bait, as they sometimes do. He gave a big “Whoa,” what he normally says when he hooks a nice bass.
What really happened was his bait hit a squirrel that was sitting on the edge of the bank and knocked it into the water. Thank heavens he wasn’t fishing with a crank bait or he may have hooked the poor guy.
That squirrel came straight out of the water, back on to the bank and, at the speed of light, ran far, far away.
When people asked how we did that day, we replied, “We got eight real nice bass, three small fish and we bathed one squirrel.” Doctor Is In By Dale Stickler SPRINGDALE My two uncles and some friends were fi shing at Lake Erie. We were having a good time until I cast my rod.
As it went back over my right shoulder guess were it landed? In my uncle’s eyelid.
Needless to say, that ended our fishing for awhile. Wehad to go to a doctor on the island to have it cut out.
The doctor asked what happened. After he heard the story he said, “I think if it were me I’d give someone a big swift kick.”
My uncle got OK, but I always tell everyone that was the biggest sucker I’d ever caught or hooked.
This happened 30 years ago and I’m still telling the story.
Dad Got Skunked
By Nell Graff / PEA RIDGE
When my oldest daughter was 4, we went fishing in the river west of Hot Springs. She kept saying, “Daddy, I want to fi sh.”
So he cut her a little switch, tied a line and hook on it and gave it to her.
She threw it out just over the bank and in a minute she pulled in about a 5-pound black bass. Of course she had to have help pulling it in.
She threw her line back in and pulled out another one. Her daddy didn’t catch anything in the hour or so he fi shed.
As they started back to the car she said, “Daddy, do you want me to show you how to catch fi sh?”
Twice The Catch
By Lynn Crouser / BELLA VISTA
I’m not an avid fi sher person,
as my husband does enough fishing for both of us. Give me a nice sunny day and a book and I will definitely enjoy a day on the lake.
While fishing on an extremely windy day at Hoodoo Point on Lake Vermillion in northern Minnesota, I found myself irritating my husband with all my snags and broken lines, which he proceeded to retie with a Lindy rig.
It consists of a slip sinker, barrel swivel and 24 inches of 6-pound test line, a hook and a minnow.
About the umpteenth time of breaking my line, he declared I would have to start tying my own line because it was too difficult for him to keep the boat parallel to shore because of the mighty wind.
After some quick and rather easy instruction, I meticulously tied my line into the eye of the swivel, tightened the knot, put on my minnow and cast downwind, hoping to not get a rat’s nest in my reel.
Soon after, I caught what I thought was a great fi sh, but unfortunately off it came and I was left with the end of myline and the curlicues I had worked so hard to snug up to my swivel.
Of course, my husband had some choice words for me, letting me know I must not have listened to his instruction very well. I’d lost the Lindy rig and a nice-sized fish.
Well, at least I didn’t have a rat’s nest in my reel. The wind continued to blow as we fished up and down the shore.
About a half-hour later, I caught another fish. Upon reeling up my line, I was amazed at what I saw. My minnow and hook had hooked through the small eye of a swivel, followed by 24 inches of 6-pound test and a 2-pound walleye on the end.
All I could do was smile at my husband. I even saw a hint of smile when he looked back and shook his head.
Tuna Fishing
By Carolyn Hird / BELLA VISTA
In the mid-1960s, our family
lived near Newport Beach, Calif. My husband, Noel, his brother, Phil, and our 12-year-old son, Dan, fi shed the ocean often on weekends for albacore tuna.
Our son didn’t have a rod and reel. A reel was borrowed from a neighbor and a rod from his uncle Phil. Phil had won the rod for the biggest albacore tuna caught that summer.
Noel rigged up the rod and reel for Dan and set it aside. He proceeded to rig up his own rod and reel when he heard a “Zzzzzzzz.” Rod and reel went overboard. Noel had forgotten to unlock the reel.
I called our homeowners insurance to make a claim of stolen property. She laughed, but turned it in and we were sent a check.
Jumpin’ Catfish
By Manuel Hutchin / ROGERS
In November of last year, a friend and I decided to go fishing at Beaver Lake. After being there about two hours, we finally caught a catfish.
As my friend kept fishing, I decided to start cleaning.
After I’d done the job, I went to the edge of the lake to rinse off the fish. When I almost submerged it in the water, the fish jumped out of my hands and swam away.
We waited for the fish to fl oat, but to our surprise the fish never floated. After two long hours of waiting we called it a night and went back home empty handed.
Outdoor, Pages 6 on 06/21/2012