I grew up fishing on the St. Lawrence river. Many lazy summer afternoons standing at the end of the dock or sitting out in the little motor boat, with my brother John, in the mouth of the bay. We would grab a pole and a container of night crawlers, a rag and a bucket for the fish we caught. That's all we ever needed. If we were lucky, after dinner, Dad would take us out in the big boat and fish on the river over by Carleton Island. I loved to fish. I loved the feel of the line as the fish nibbled at the bait and the tell-tale tug when you knew you caught a Jack Perch and then the excitement as you reeled in the catch.
So when my brother John texted me Sunday morning to say he was ice-fishing nearby, we gathered up the twins and went to go see him. I envisioned John, bundled up and bracing the bitter wind and snow, sitting on a bucket with a pole over a hole in the ice, patiently waiting to feel that tug on his line and catch a fish.
Something like this:
I was wrong! So very wrong!
The problem here isn't all the "stuff". I'm okay with all the stuff needed for this sport, I think. But, um, where's the hole?
Here's the doo-hicky motorized thing-a-ma jig to dig the hole. John calls it an "auger". I know that my husband thought it was nifty cause it was big and made noise and looked manly. But, I wondered how he carried this stuff all the way out to the middle of the pond.
We wandered around on the ice and found one! John had made a jigging pole out of a broom handle -read: fishing pole that doesn't require you to sit there and hold it. He had another one of these and five tip-ups. So in all, 7 holes, none of which he sat on a bucket near and actually fished! Instead he would walk around or sit in the hut or cook or chat with his buddies until one of the little flags would raise and then he would scoot on over to the hole to see what he caught.
Needless to say, Thing One and Thing Two were very impressed.
John claimed we brought him luck because while we were standing around, a flag was sprung and he hustled on over to the hole.
Notice here you can see why John wears knee protection (if you were thinking he was installing a floor, you and I were both wrong. I guess they keep his knees dry).
Now pay attention because this next part of the whole fishing thing just blew me away: John takes this enormous and beautiful Pike out of the itty bitty hole, hoists it in the air, a few pictures are taken and then he slips it back into the hole. It took my breath away! I wanted to keep it, frame it...or you know..stuff it...or eat it..or something...but as quick as it was brought out of the frigid cold water it went back in to swim again. Pretty cool!
I am guessing Thing One and Thing Two will be ice fishing with great regularity! And since they don't require licenses and together can bring 14 more holes in the ice, the "Bucket Brigade" will welcome them back anytime.
