Who Planted the Fishing Seed in Your Life?

Sitting around the house on this cold day has me wanting to go fishing pretty bad. Sometimes I get to thinking about how the fishing seed got planted in my life. Instantly I think of grandpa's old 50's model aluminum tri hull boat and camping at Green River Lake. We spent summers there eating Vienna sausages on the boat and camping at Lone Valley.

We've come a long way since those days with Ranger boats, Lowrance HDS', and custom rods and jigs. But I always go back and think of Grandpa Bob and my Dad taking my brother and I fishing and planting the seed that sprouted and grew into a lifelong passion (obsession) that I'm trying to pass down to my kids.

Who planted the fishing seed in your life?

Dad in his johnboat did me in��

Dad from the bank..... What to poor for a boat back then

My dad and grandfather, I'm forever grateful too. I've got an eight year old that I've done my best to pass the seed onto as well.

My Grandfather and Grandmother ..... (affectionately known to me as "Pa" & "Nannie")

Here's my "Pa" with a haul of Crappie, from one of his early years trips. Not sure what lake they came from, but it could be Cherokee Lake Tn, since I remember him mentioning fishing there.

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Here's where I remember starting my fishing - Red Gate Dock, Herrington Lake (Ky). This would have been in the late '50s, for me. Picture is probably from the early '50s. You can see the "lockers" along the sides of the marina, where people stored their fishing gear. Dock floated on 55gal metal drums, where one can be seen under the far right end of the dock. The "rental" boats are tied in front ... flatbottom wooden rowboats. We had a 10HP Johnson Seahorse outboard, that we put on these boats. We had no trolling motor ... that was me and a skuttle paddle !!

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And here's my Grandfather and his fishing buddy, Lawrence (& wife, Beulah) ... showing off a Catfish, while standing on Red Gate Dock.

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And here's my Grandfather - all ready to head out Crappie fishing:

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The Red Gate Dock collapsed, and has been removed from the lake (replaced by a newer marina) ... my Grandfather/Grandmother and Lawrence/Beulah have long passed ... but, my memories are not. Thanks to these people, this marina, and this lake ... fishing has kept me from going down the wrong path in life, and led me here.

(edited from a post from 2006)

That is my reply.:fish

Dad was an alcoholic, Grandpa worked all the time, so I just decided one day to tag along with a neighbor friend of mine when they went to the local pay lakes. Funny thing is today I ,even though I struggle with it, I fish and my friend just doesn't care for it.

My father I would say but grandpa showed me how to catch frogs with a piece of red ribbon on a hook and I still remeber the day even though we lost him a while back

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For me it was my dad. He started me out blue gill fishing when I was about 3 and by the time I was 10 I was helping him run his trot lines and hoop nets for cats on the Wabash river. How I miss running the river with him.

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My Dad...We always tried to make an annual fishing trip on his birthday, May 21st..then on my birthday , June 29th..Did this even when I moved to Ohio, and Louisiana...Those two dates are still hard for me since he is gone...He was 77 our last trip out..So weak I picked him up in my arms, walked out in the water, and set him in the boat. Had a great time..Sometimes when I fish alone, I think he is there with me..

My grandfather planted the fishing seed, watered it and nurtured it for many years! Bluegill on a fly rod in the evenings, running trot lines 3 times a day, and trolling for stripes when it got way hot in the summer.
But the crappie addiction was something that started earlier in the year, and added more time with my grandparents at the lake. Mom would drop me off every Friday evening after school and then come get me on Sunday evenings. This started in February and went till school was out. We fished and studied maps on where to put brush piles. We shot pool up at the rec center and lived it up.
One of his famous one liners was "no excuses, just put em' in the boat."
Papa passed just few years ago, no doubts he is looking down upon me, laughing when I miss one, cringing when I cross their eyes setting the hook, and I hear him saying no excuses, just put em' in the boat!

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The seed sower in my life was James E Ayers, my dad. Friday afternoon he'd come home from work, pick me an that ole pickle jar up, an we'd be off to the swamp to find leeches. Saturday mornings around daybreak, dad would be rowing us out to our channel cat an bluegill hotspot. Our rod of choice were twenty foot cane poles. Not only could dad cross the eyes of the biggest cat, but they came in handy as push poles when navigating the skinny water. Try that with a B & M. Dad used a rock from the bank an drove nails thru a burlap sack an into the wooden gunnel for our live well. Never remember a trip out that we didn't slip a few in that sack for dinner. On the trip back in, dad let me stand between his knees an I'd help him row. Oh what I wouldn't give for one more of those mornings.

Dad took this this picture of me an my first fish in 1955. He told me the reason it was so ragid an worn was because he'd worn it out passing it back an forth across the fence, showing it to the neighbors.

It would be my paternal grandfather. He passed away when I was 10 but the memories of him left a lasting impression. He and Grandma had a cottage on a lake about 2 hours north of here. He was a busy farmer but about every other weekend he would pick me up on his way to the lake. He and grandma would spend most of the morning of Saturdays mowing lawn, maintenance etc. but first he would get me started catching bluegills, sunfish and perch off the end of his dock.....then he'd tend to his duties. Saturday evening and Sunday morning he'd take me out in his boat fishing, then pack up about noon to head home.

About 2 years ago I asked my dad if I could have my grandpas 5 horse Evinrude outboard motor. Dad let me have it, so now I have the motor he and I would be fishing together with all those years ago. My dad was too busy farming to ever take me fishing, but my older brother became my teacher after Grandpa passed away. Every time I go fishing I still think about my Grandpa Clare, I'm trying to be that same inspiration to my grand kids.

My grandpa, dad and 2 of my great uncles. From the time i was 5 until i was about 17 I spent every weekend at green river or Cumberland.

My grandfather introduced me to addictive Fishing and hunting before I could walk.....I miss him every day.

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My grandfather introduced me to addictive Fishing and hunting before I could walk.....I miss him every day.

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Nice responses guys! This is why I felt like starting this thread. Pretty cool seeing who impacted our lives with good old wholesome fishing. I bet it kept us from taking other paths in our lives that led to trouble.

Just goes to show that taking a little time with our kids now will pay off later in their lives.

Good thread....

My dad worked hard all the years we were growing up by one thing he always took the time to take me and my brother fishing. Not only take us but show us how to fish some of the fondest memories is on the bank of a pond or in that 14 ft vbow catching bluegill
My granddad was also one that always took time to take us. We should set on the bank of the slough pond. And fish for what ever was biting that day.
As I grow older I realize it wasn't about the catching it was all about the time spent with them and the memories that can never be taken away.
So take someone and pass this great tradition and way of life on to the next generation!!

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My dad started me coming down to Ky Lake when I was six. My grandpa Joe retired from the railroad after 36 years as a train engineer to run a charter boat out of Sausalito, Ca. Honeymooned at Moors in 1978 in my dads 1972 Jayco popup....if this Jayco's rockin don't bother knockin!! As you can tell the nut didn't fall far from the tree!! My boat is now named the "Tom Swift" after my grandpa's boat.
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My Daddy started me fishing in 1964 when I was 3 years old. I haven't let up in the 53 years since. He was into fly fishing for trout when he was younger and he used to tie flys professionally for Herter's. He taught me to tie my own flys when I was 7 or 8. I still remember the first bass I caught on a yellow streamer I tied. That bass looked 10 pounds when he jumped right in front of me...he was more like 2 pounds really. I wanted to keep him, but Daddy said he'd get bigger if he got the chance. It didn't make sense to me at the time, but I get it now.

We had an old rowboat that we fished from, but mostly we'd fish off the bank. I think it was easier for Daddy not to compound little kids & fishing in a confined space. One day, we were walking down the bank of the creek we were fishing and came up on a big snapping turtle. I was sure that thing was going to eat me. Daddy kept saying for me to come on and that turtle wasn't going to hurt me. The way it kept hissing made me sure it wanted me for supper. Daddy walked back past it and picked me up to carry me past that turtle.

The family would go camping at the lake and they'd only ever have to go as far as the water's edge to find me. I'd fish from before sunrise to past sundown, if they'd let me. Once, we were camping in the mountains by a spot where a stream ran into a river (can't remember which) and I figured out that the trout had run up the stream and were in some of the deeper holes. I caught some nice rainbows and browns and had them on a metal stringer staked in a shallow riffle between the deeper holes. I heard a rustle in the bushes behind me and thought it was my Daddy coming to get me for supper. It turned out to be a black bear that smelled my fish and stole the stringer. I ran back towards camp and passed Daddy was walking down the path to get me. I didn't even slow down, just hollered BEAR! and kept going. The bear was a long ways behind going the other way and already had what he wanted.

I couldn't talk Daddy into fishing much once I was into my teens. I took him out on my bass boat a few times when I was in my 30s, but the fishing bug had left him. I still owe him for the lifetime of education, fun, and adventure I've drawn from fishing that he introduced me to. I'm a long ways from done too!

Jim

My father farmed and he felt like you needed to have a little fun almost everyday, so we fished and/or hunted, as much as possible. Very few weeks have passed without me going fishing. Don't hunt any more. I am almost 70 and still fish every week. Thanks to my Dad.

I've noticed the same thing on almost every post, MY DAD, OF MY GRAND DAD got me started. Wish I could've started that way.

Dad got me started with a cane pole, catgut line, weed worms, catwaba worms, red worms .We fished from the bank and had one of the old metal stringers that we had to watch for turtles when we put fish on it. He is gone now but those old days will always be forever burned in my memory. Thank you Dad for taking me fishing

Great thread and great stories. For me it was my dad who planted the seed, but it was my grandma who nurtured it early on. Me and my brother spent the summers with my grandmother (a widower) while my mom and dad worked. She would drive us out a few days a week to what we called the sandpit by Grenada Lake or we would fish the old river run and spillway from time to time. She had a particular spot at the sandpit, it was the only point on the small lake, she could have moved 200 feet either way and been fishin' in the shade, but she wasn't having it. She would sit there and plain wear out some catfish with nothing but a cane pole and chicken livers. Meanwhile, my brother and I influenced by the likes of Dance, Parker, Houston etc.. were on the bass thing hot and heavy. We would wear our feet plumb out walking around the pit chucking spinners, buzz baits and fishing plastic worms. We got skunked a lot, never remember my grandma leaving empty handed. She caught em, we cleaned em, she cooked em, was a great system. Still can't figure out how long that cane pole was, she drove a 78 Chrysler New Yorker and it was as long as the car I bet ya...

My granddaddy spent a lot time hauling me around the oxbow lakes of ms and la while momma and daddy were working. Now Mrs williams who's 91 and I, are planting the seeds in my 3 girls.https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...e7357b819f.jpghttps://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...b9a251064c.jpghttps://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...e1b2ef6431.jpghttps://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...7ecb740e7d.jpghttps://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...d7a46e9cbe.jpghttps://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/201...e139810650.jpg


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My dad started taking me around 4. I could hardly hold the pole. He's been gone 8years and I miss him every time I go fishing. I know he is up there saying set that hook son.


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Don't know how I got started fishing.my dad wasn't a fisherman my 3 older brothers were in world war two at the time. I was maybe 3 or 4, started with a bent wire for a hook and a piece of sewing thread and willow pole.fished a creek by our house for sun and cat fish.have been hooked ever since.have been lucky enough to have fished with some of the best bass fishermen in the Bass and flw tournament circuit .today its crappie,walleye and muskie .the muskie just won't stay off the lures when walleye fishing.

my best friends dad took us out when we were boys and started me, didn't take in his son. My dad just worked, didn't do much else so I just took it up on my own, fishing in january wabash park in Ferguson for lil sunfish and I mean tiny, with just line and hook in my hand under rr ties along shore. then farm pond at grandma's neighbor/cousin where I hooked into some HUGE bass and I was hooked. Been doing it and hunting ever since. Now crappie's my game!

Looks like a lot of grandpa's helped start a lot of you guys fishing, I never got to see either of my grandpa's they both died before I was born, and I never new of my dad ever going fishing, I guess I can call him what I remember him for and that was a drunk, if he had a long neck adult beverage in his hand, he was happy, my grandmother was left with 7 kids at the age of 36 when my grandpa was killed in a coal mine, and man did that little woman like to fish, and she was the one that took me fishing in the late 50's I was about 4 years old I think, we would dig worms, well I remember her digging the worms and she would let me pick them up and put them in a can, we fished with cane poles and the worms we dug, this creek ran pas her house and we would walk up the creek bank looking for a deeper pool of water to fish, I remember my grandmother using her heel to kick a hole in the clay mud bank, for me to place my feet in as I sat right beside her, she would always swing her bait in and catch it and tell me to always be sure to spit on my worm before dropping it in the creek, we would catch bluegill and a small catfish now and then, I remember she would make a stringer for the fish we caught from a limber limb from a nearby bush, she would leave only one short limb next to the end of the long limb, and run the long end through the fish's gills and drop it in the water and stick the other end in the bank and it held them good, we would keep all we caught and place them on the stringer and carry them home using the limb stringer, she died when I was 12 and that was the first heartbreak I ever had, and that was the first time I ever tried talking to God, I remember going behind her house and crying and praying to God the best I new how. Sorry for the long rant, but it's been a while sense i have thought of some of the things my grandmother and me did together, it's funny how the ones we love are the ones that breaks our hearts,

Mom and Dad both we go down to were Casey creek runs into the lake and I would sit on the trunk lid of the car. Mon liked fishin from bank as much as anyone but NOT from a boat. Dad and I would wade fish all the little creeks back before you were trespassing on someone else. And bout 26 years ago Bobberbuis took me crappie fishin. I have passed it to my son as well, of course he dont have as much time now he is a grown man trying to make a livin.Attachment 257664

Really started myself. I was about 11 yrs old. We lived on a small creek that ran into a water shed lake there was a Small bridge above the creek about 13 ft above the water and I would walk over to it when bored and that came very often at our house for we where really poor no video games as I looked over the edge one day I noticed a few fish so I took my foot and kick off a small rock ( just barely bigger than a bb) as soon as it hit the water and made a plop sound the fish darted to it so I thought hey if I had a hook I could catch one of those. So off I went back to the house found a spool of fishing line ( no rod and reels, no cane pole) a hook and a small sinker tied it all on ran a stick through the spool of line put on a piece of worm and dropped it over sure enough as soon as it plopped here they came a 12 inch bass was the lucky guy and I had my first fish. I fished that whole in that creek so many days I will never forget. Now I'm 47 and that one fish as cost me an easy $100,000.00.

My earliest memories were fishing from the bank with my Mom, Sister and her children. I grew up with my niece and nephew, since we were the same age. I was born when my Mom was 39. So my siblings were older. We would go to the city horse barn and dig for worms or use shrimp. My Dad would come when he was not in the gulf working. We probably went 40 or 50 times a summer. We also ran lines for catfish and blue crabs. My Dad would sell them for extra money and always threw in 13 crabs. For $1. That part came later on, after he was run over by a dump truck and could not work off shore. He would get dizzy spells and fall out of his pilot's chair.(unconcious 3 month, I was young but still have vague memories of this) Well things got tough for a while, although as a child I did not know. He finally landed a job working in a sporting goods dept. This was good for my nephew and I. He gave us each a whole page of yellow H&H's. I think about 20 each. If you ever used them, you know how they would hang up. But we casted our arms off with our zebco 202's. And caught a few fish. I bet most of those baits are still in that canal. lol. Anyway, sorry so long winded, wanted to point out my Mom was my mentor. This thread sure brought back some great memories. One more tidbit, in our family for as long as my Mom lived, if you had a bite you better catch it. Cause if you missed it, her bait was on top of it before you could blink. haha

Lost my dad when I was only 4 months old to the day .but my grand pa and my uncles took me under their wings .i remember those days digging red worms in the dog lot for blue gill and cat fish . Some times getting picked up early from school on Friday for a camping trip .i remember grand maw frying em up whole in a iron skillet .i remember buying minnows for about .50 cents a dozen and when you bought 3-4 dozen you would get seam like 10 dozen .oh the memories this brought back. Thanks

My dad and grandpa. They always had time to take me fishing. Both are home with the Lord.
Thank you for getting me hooked on fishing!
Bassky

I can remember my dad taking me fishing once, it was a small pond loaded with small bluegill. There was several cousins and my brother there. Dad sure had his work cut out for him that day, he baited hooks took off fish and untangled lines. I was around 5. What I remember most was my grandpa taking me to hanging fork creek to fish. I begged him everyday during the summer to take me. Whenever we would get caught up working in his woodshop and huge garden then we go fishing. I remember him restoring a 14 foot v hull boat, when I was 10 or so. By the time he got it done he was unable to use it due to his health. I bought my first boat 5 years ago, the first fish I caught out of it was a small bluegill and remember thanking grandpa for all that he had taught me.

MY DAD!!!!!!! My Dad was a river rat. He grew up right on the Ky river bank. Every flood would be in their house. He grew up fishing the river. Then started teaching me as soon as I was big enough to go. Many around would say he could catch Fish in a mud puddle. He could read the river.Knew where to go to find Fish. At age 5 he was running his own trot lines across the river. Myself I learned from him. Not as good as he was but I do ok. I lost Dad last year 2 Feb 2016 been a year now. SURE MISS HIM being out there with me.Deer Turkey hunting and FISHING. Now my Sons are grown kids of their own.I just hope they learned from me and teach their kids of what my Dad taught me.
R.I.P. DAD I SURE MISS YOU.