I miss bass fishing with my stepfather

Lynne

Master of Arts
My stepfather married my mother when I was 15. I love him dearly and he has been the most positive influence in my life.

I really miss bass fishing with him. We had a nice, roomy Prowler trailer that we kept at Hampton Lodge, a family campground on the Currituck Sound in North Carolina.

The Currituck Sound, back then, was full of grass beds and black bass as well as rock (striped?) bass. There was a channel the ferry boats used where the water was more brackish and you could catch flounder. On calm days, we'd motor out near the channel to catch flounder and have a good ol' fish fry that evening. I understand that the Currituck Sound has been "fished out" of bass in the fresh water areas. I don't know if that's true or not.

My mother, stepfather, and myself would head out just before daylight. We'd find the "magic spot" (we hoped). My stepfather always put the shiners on my hook for me and took the fish off for me :) One time, he took a catfish off for me and one of it's spike went all the way through his work boot and into his leg. He laid down in the boat on that one. He had tears rolling down his face. He said it hurt like a son-of-a-you-know-what.

We used cane poles. We'd make a hole in the grass with the end of the cane pole and then drop the line into the hole. Next, we'd beat the water with the poles to make as much noise as possible in order to attract the bass. People who were using fishing rods thought we were crazy, lol.

If we were lucky, we would catch a bass in the 2 - 3# range. It was very difficult getting them in. The would fight like mad and we had to pull them up through the grass beds. That was the fun part of course! They were also a tasty treat for the evening.

We'd head home about noon, have lunch, and take a nap. Once, my stepfather and I went out without my mother around 5:00 pm. He snagged something BIG. His cane pole went under the boat and snapped into two. We couldn't believe it. A few minutes later, I snagged something BIG. It was threatening to pull me out of the boat and the boat was being dragged slightly. My stepfather helped me pull it in. He did most of the work actually. It was a rock bass weighing over 5# we found. We figured that must have been the devil that broke his cane pole in half.

So, we went to the little store on the campground to have it weighed. We were guessing around 5 pounds. It was just a little over. All the other fishermen were jealous and envious as this teenaged girl stood there waiting to weigh her fish that was 2 times bigger than most of theirs :D
 
Lynne, it's amazing how much your story of bonding by fishing parallels my own. My step dad has been in my life since I was 4. I've called him dad for as long as I can remember and truly, sometimes, forget that there is no blood lineage there. Doesn't matter as he has been a true father to me in ever sense of the word. When I was younger, growing up, we'd drive to the James river near Buchanan, Va or out to Smith Mountain lake and spend the entire night fishing together. We generally caught little and what we did catch we released but the memories are in my mental live well forever.
 
Lynne, it's amazing how much your story of bonding by fishing parallels my own. My step dad has been in my life since I was 4. I've called him dad for as long as I can remember and truly, sometimes, forget that there is no blood lineage there. Doesn't matter as he has been a true father to me in ever sense of the word. When I was younger, growing up, we'd drive to the James river near Buchanan, Va or out to Smith Mountain lake and spend the entire night fishing together. We generally caught little and what we did catch we released but the memories are in my mental live well forever.

I'm sure you can still see the stars, feel the warm humid air, and hear the drone of mosquitoes. I'm sure you remember your stepdad's voice, and remember some of the actual words he spoke, an expression on his face, and so on. Good memories.

I have never fished in the James but sure have gone over the James many a time, especially the James River Bridge when it was two-lane and 55 mph. I hated the drawbridge span - ugh! I think the toll was .75 or more 30 years ago! Even as an adult, I hated going over the draw bridge - very high in the air so the naval ships could go under.

I haven't been to Smith Mountain lake but have heard of it. My uncle used to live in Lynchburg.

Did you ever go crabbing? We used to put chicken necks on a string and go at it.
 

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