Big catch: You can't put a price on that



When we moved out to Pine Lake last year, my husband couldn't wait to get on the water and fish.
This spring, we bought a pontoon boat from our neighbor. It's not pretty, but it floats, has a good motor and was reasonably priced: $1,250.
Along with putting the boat on the lake came the fee for having a boat on the lake: $425.
Then it was time for fishing equipment.
A couple of inexpensive rods for the kids: $60.
A couple of good rods for the adults: $90.
Tackle box: $20.
"Stuff" for the tackle box: $85.
Finally, our whole family crowded onto the boat for an evening of fishing.
Two dozen worms: $1.89 per dozen.
The family fun beginsbut doesn't last long
On the first cast, two of the boys got their lines crossed. One line flew backward over the roof of the boat, worm dangling in midair on the hook.
Most of the time was spent repairing tangled lines or hooking worms. When the lines were in the water, we excitedly watched large fish jumping all around the bobbers. No one got a bite that night.
Or the next night.
Or the next night.
The boys lost interest.
Pat found another interested party, his buddy Jerry Welce.
Together, Pat and Jerry managed to turn the hobby of fishing into an obsessive compulsion.
After a few evenings of unsuccessful fishing with worms ($1.89 per dozen), Pat and Jerry turned to minnows. (Minnow bucket, $12.99; minnows, $1.25 per dozen.)
After a few evenings of unsuccessful fishing with the minnows, they tried shiners.
"Look at these babies," Jerry said to me one afternoon, lifting the lid off a container. (Plastic foam shiner bucket, $2.99; shiners: $3.50 per dozen.)
"Those are big!" I said, shaking my head. "Pretty soon you guys are going to buy baby bass to catch a bass."
When they started using maggots to not catch fish, they became a household joke.
"If they don't catch anything, we can just fry the maggots for dinner!" the children jeered.
It's sink-or-swim time for these two fishermen
But Pat and Jerry were about to have the last laugh. (Actually, that's not true. We laughed last.)
They had tried every live bait Red's Sport Shop sold. They had bought most of the jigs and lures in the store as well.
"I got the impression they weren't catching too much, " says Laurie Kayser, whose parents own Red's. "They are always joking with each other saying it doesn't matter what they buy, they won't catch anything anyway."
She pointed to a row of cheap plow jockeys. (Kelly's Stripers, 6 for $1.99.)
"They buy a pack of those about every time they come in," she said.
The fish tale includes a dramatic presentation
Sure enough, one afternoon, the cheap, rubber worm came through.
"The line got tight and I said, 'Pat, I think I got something!'" Jerry shares the fish tale with both our families.
It was a big one and Jerry was struggling.
Pat grabbed the rod and worked it in.
"I told Jerry to get the net!" Pat continues the tale. "He's got his head practically in the water, and I said, 'Don't kiss it! Just get it in the net!'"
"That fish was moving all around," Jerry said, with dramatic arm gyrations.
It sounded like the struggle went on for an hour -- maybe two. (Reality: 10 minutes.)
When they finally got the fish in the boat, they looked at their prize. It was big. Four pounds, 20 inches.
They called Jerry's brother Terry from the boat to get the name of a taxidermist.
"You catch one fish all summer and you want to get it stuffed!" he howled.
They hung up on Terry and called Red's. They understand fishermen.
"They were so excited!" the owner of Red's, Mary McCarthy, remembers.
Mary gave them the name of a good taxidermist: $175.
The cost of one 4-pound, 20-inch, stuffed fish: $2,246.47.
The price of one summer filled with fishing adventure and one big fish tale to tell for a lifetime -- priceless.
gwhite@vindy.com

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