Post by cnot on May 23, 2007 20:57:32 GMT -5
Ok Bob, as promised a while ago, here's one for you...
Although most of my fishing stories from my youth revolve around Cape May Point because that is where I spent every summer and weekend of my growing years, this is one from the area of Bernardsville NJ where my family spent the winters. The town was mostly made p of a Christian community, I being raised Catholic, but there was a few Jewish families in the area. I was very fortunate to be friends with several families of the Jewish faith, and have some very fond memories of the little time I spent with them. This story is one of the few fresh water fishing stories I have to offer and it leads to a couple of good ones about our "Jewish fishing gang". (The "gang" started because some of the kids from the Catholic school were bragging outside the candy store about fishing while I was with three of my Jewish friends about the fish they had caught at a local mill pond. I don't remember how it all went, but the important part is that it was known that I fished a lot and there were stories of my "salty" catches", also that I never cared for braggarts. So, we decide we would start fishing the pond too, and challenge the bragging kids to a fishing competition before I headed to south Jersey for the summer.)
We gathered what ramshackle freshwater tackle we could find in our collective attics and garages. I gave some after school casting lessons,"Einstein" (our resident brainiac, aka "nerd among nerds) got to herding crickets and farming worms, Adam played spy and listened to every bragging story told at school to find the hot spots of the pond, Joel just about read my copy of McClain's Fishing Encyclopedia from cover to cover. This was serious stuff for a group of preteens!!!
We decided to make a recon trip to the ill pond one fine spring day after school, and rode bikes laden with our tackle to the site. We were doing well with the pan fish, but I thought that we might do better on "the other side", a place our spy reported that the other kids didn't fish because they weren't allowed to cross "the dam".
The dam was about 15 feet long, about 8 inches across, water about 5 inches at most gently rolling over, a nice deep pool bellow (about 5 feet for a drop). BUT, the concrete was covered with a slippery moss....
I, having spent so much time around jetties that get covered by the tide and coated with ice slick seaweed, thought nothing of it. I popped my shoes off, and crossed. The others followed. . . Or so I thought. All three splashed into the pool, and our trip was cut a little short!!
That night we had dinner at Einstein's house, and he asked his mom if he could go with me to Mass on Sunday...
She was taken a little a back, but said. "I suppose, why?"
He said with a grin "Because I want to learn more about this walking on water thing!"
(Swear it's a true story!)
Shall I tell you how we caught the bigger catfish at the competition? (Not a big joke here, or long story, but amusing end to my little tale...)
Although most of my fishing stories from my youth revolve around Cape May Point because that is where I spent every summer and weekend of my growing years, this is one from the area of Bernardsville NJ where my family spent the winters. The town was mostly made p of a Christian community, I being raised Catholic, but there was a few Jewish families in the area. I was very fortunate to be friends with several families of the Jewish faith, and have some very fond memories of the little time I spent with them. This story is one of the few fresh water fishing stories I have to offer and it leads to a couple of good ones about our "Jewish fishing gang". (The "gang" started because some of the kids from the Catholic school were bragging outside the candy store about fishing while I was with three of my Jewish friends about the fish they had caught at a local mill pond. I don't remember how it all went, but the important part is that it was known that I fished a lot and there were stories of my "salty" catches", also that I never cared for braggarts. So, we decide we would start fishing the pond too, and challenge the bragging kids to a fishing competition before I headed to south Jersey for the summer.)
We gathered what ramshackle freshwater tackle we could find in our collective attics and garages. I gave some after school casting lessons,"Einstein" (our resident brainiac, aka "nerd among nerds) got to herding crickets and farming worms, Adam played spy and listened to every bragging story told at school to find the hot spots of the pond, Joel just about read my copy of McClain's Fishing Encyclopedia from cover to cover. This was serious stuff for a group of preteens!!!
We decided to make a recon trip to the ill pond one fine spring day after school, and rode bikes laden with our tackle to the site. We were doing well with the pan fish, but I thought that we might do better on "the other side", a place our spy reported that the other kids didn't fish because they weren't allowed to cross "the dam".
The dam was about 15 feet long, about 8 inches across, water about 5 inches at most gently rolling over, a nice deep pool bellow (about 5 feet for a drop). BUT, the concrete was covered with a slippery moss....
I, having spent so much time around jetties that get covered by the tide and coated with ice slick seaweed, thought nothing of it. I popped my shoes off, and crossed. The others followed. . . Or so I thought. All three splashed into the pool, and our trip was cut a little short!!
That night we had dinner at Einstein's house, and he asked his mom if he could go with me to Mass on Sunday...
She was taken a little a back, but said. "I suppose, why?"
He said with a grin "Because I want to learn more about this walking on water thing!"
(Swear it's a true story!)
Shall I tell you how we caught the bigger catfish at the competition? (Not a big joke here, or long story, but amusing end to my little tale...)