How I Learned to Set the Hook
My Dad taught me the basics: how to tie on my hook, how to hook a minnow, a worm, how to cast an open-faced reel, how to use a stringer, and how to set the hook. Now he told me the importance of setting the hook in the early days when we were fishing for up to 5 pound catfish and brim, but when he took me striper fishing for the first time, he really pounded "setting the hook" into my head.
I was about ten years old, and I finally got to go with my Dad and brothers to Lake Texoma to catch stripers. It is a famous freshwater lake impounded on the Red River, and one of the first successful freshwater striper fisheries. Dad has been going with the same guide for about twenty years, and that man knows where the stripers are at. It is super fast-pased action; we usually limit out by 8AM. I grew up watching Dad come home from these trips with several gallon freezer bags full of big striper fillets, hearing the stories and the names and the laughs. I always wanted to go, and now the time had come.
I was so excited the night before that I hardly slept, but I wasn't scared of getting up at 4:30AM. I had been to the deer stand and the duck blind before. So when 4:30 came, I was already awake. We drove down the road from where we were staying to Soldier Creek Marina, and I was shaking with excitement the whole 10 minute drive there. Then we got out of the Suburban, and the pungent aroma of Texoma shad filled my nose; I had arrived. We then walked down to the docks and met Phil Bramlett, Dad's guide. He shook my hand and we put our gear in the boat, which was the coffee thermos and a couple bottles of water.
Now Texoma is a big lake, at about 89,000 acres. It seemed like the boat ride took an eternity. 'When were we going to catch these fish? Does this guide know what he's doing? Let's fish over by those rocks.' These were some of the thoughts I was having, along with hoping they wouldn't notice me shaking with excitement. Phil finally let off the throttle, and he said "Alright boys! We got em thick! See all that red on the locater? That's them. Drop em down to the bottom and reel up five turns!" It was on. We weren't fishing for catfish from the bank anymore! Within 15 seconds, we all got bit, but I lost mine. Shoot!! "Set that hook boy!" "Come on Stephen!" "We won't be on em long!" Phil puts another shad on my hook and I drop em back down, meanwhile Dad and Bret caught two more. Damn it! I drop my shad and reel up five. BAM! Fish on! I stuck the butt of the rod in my arm pit and jerked the rod tip up. Man what a fight! Now I knew what the hype was. He pulled some line from my reel, and slack.... fish lost. "Damn it Dad, he got off." They kept slinging decent fish in the boat and netting the big ones.
It was frantic, with stripers floppin' all over the Bayhawk and Phil keeping up with the baitin' and the nettin'. "You gotta SET THAT HOOK, son!" "I know! I know!" As soon as my Dad said that, he set the hook HARD on a smaller striper and slung it over the side of the boat and bounced it off my head. My brother laughed the laugh of a 6'5" offensive tackle and Phil exclaimed, "Now that's how you set a hook, son!" Dad chuckled a little, and my head pounded. I was mad; no more fish were getting off of my hook. Within a few minutes a nine-pounder slammed my shad, and I showed that fish who was boss. Ever since then I have set the hook like a Hankins, and now I show Dad how it's done.
