I had just finished packing up the last of what I needed for my trip — including some heavy action gear for salt water fly fishing — when Karen called.
We were leaving for the Kansas City airport sometime in the afternoon, headed to the Florida Keys the next morning. We were planning to do a little fishing there but were mainly going just to escape winter in the area for a couple of weeks.
Karen was working and we knew that 4 p.m. would be the earliest that we could possibly leave, but we had yet to set an exact time. Her call was to say that she wouldn’t be home until 6, and that we could leave after that.
It was early afternoon on a January day, it was 61 degrees outside and I had just been given two extra hours. I’d be staying on various islands for two weeks without a single opportunity to fish our fresh water ponds and streams.
What else could I do but go fishing? Karen approved of my idea, but stressed again that she’d be home at 6.
After grabbing a few items of tackle, it wasn’t long before I was leaning on the tailgate of my truck parked beside the pond and assembling my rod.
With jig heads and grubs in my pocket I was soon casting and working my way around the bank of the pond. There was still vegetation in the water, but unlike in the warmer months it had dropped back several inches below the surface. I could see no fish activity and had caught nothing after walking most of the way around the pond.
Finally, at the main spillway, during a hurried retrieve of a miscast, my line caught and pulled quickly away. Overcoming the shock, I was soon removing the hook from a rather small crappie that had taken my chartreuse grub.
I cast again and, retrieving the lure at the same quick pace, hooked and landed another crappie from the same spot. My next two casts came up empty, but during the following two casts I landed my third and fourth crappie.
The action then seemed to stop. I slowed the retrieve and worked the grub much more slowly along the edge of the grass. Just as the lure reached the open channel, I stopped the retrieve and let the jig tumble down. A fish quickly picked it up, and I landed my first bluegill of the day. It was a very nice one.
I worked that section a while longer but caught nothing more and eventually gave up and moved on. The pond was full and water was pouring over the spillway down into the creek below.
As I worked my way back along the bank I employed the faster retrieve and worked only the vegetation that was similar to that where I’d finally caught fish. I hooked and landed five more crappie — nine fish total — on my way back around to the truck.
I needed 20 minutes for the drive to my house as well as another 10 for a shower. I wanted to make just one more trip around the pond, but I knew that I was pushing it. I quickly reeled in my line, walked for the truck and headed for home before I had a chance to talk myself into staying.
My shower was complete and I had our bags neatly sitting by the door moments before Karen came in. She was ready quickly and — after she made a final check to make sure that none of the items in her suitcase had been replaced with fishing tackle — we were out the door and on our way toward the airport.
Address correspondence to Silas Gray at ifish@silasgray.com.
