Favorite Childhood Fishing Stories
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Thread: Favorite Childhood Fishing Stories

  1. #1
    Join Date
    Jul 2009
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    Pittsboro
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    Default Favorite Childhood Fishing Stories

    I’ll start.

    When I was a kid, I somehow stumbled into fishing. No one else in my family liked to fish. But I remember waking up early on Saturday mornings, and instead of watching cartoons, I would watch Hank Parker, Jimmy Houston, and Bill Dance on ESPN outdoors.

    I didn’t really get any good at fishing ‘til years later. As a kid, I fished for years with a 1980s era black and green Johnson push button rod and reel combo, with a big red and white bobber and a treble hook. Dad grew up in NYC, where the only fishing he ever did was subway fishing (you tie a washer to a piece of string and put some Vaseline on it, then lower it down to catch loose change the would fall through the grates...)

    A few times a year, Dad would take me to a local pay pond that was stocked with channel cats. Dad would set a dollar limit (you paid by the pound, plus extra for cleaning), which I always seemed to bust. One time, I hit my limit, and as Dad was packing up, I asked to make one more cast with the tiny nub of worm I had left on the hook. I’m sure he thought that I couldn’t possible catch another fish in the 3 minutes it would take him to get to the car and back, but low and behold, I hooked (and caught!) the biggest fish of the day on that nub. There went another $10-$12!

    And somewhere in my parents’ house is one of my all time favorite fishing photos of 7-year-old me in big rubber boots, holding up up a catfish from that same pond that hung from my waist to my feet, with a giant smile on my face that stretched ear to ear. That 9 pound channel cat was my personal catfish record for years, until I discovered blues and flathead.

    Good times!


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk


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  3. #2
    Join Date
    Dec 2007
    Location
    Greensboro
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    Subway fishing. Lol That’s funny.

    My Dad taught me to fish a Texas rig on a spinning rod when I was very young. I remember hooking him in his hat one time on a cast. He never yelled or fussed at me. He let me skip school in 4th grade and go surf fishing with him. My favorite baits as a kid were A 6” worm, a jointed Rapala, and a Pop-R...... almost all “borrowed” from my Dad’s tackle box!!

    I’m now grown and have a 4th grader of my own. He loves to throw a crank bait and loves to raid my tackle box. Payback I guess. 😂

    When I was 14 or 15, my sister gave me a birthday present. My first jig-n-pig. I hooked a gigantic bass on the 9th hole of a golf course and lost him at the bank. Jigs are still hands down my favorite bait and catch my biggest fish every year.

    "Modesty is the only sure bait when fishing for praise."

  4. #3
    Join Date
    Aug 2015
    Location
    Wake Forest
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    151

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    Being from up north and I mean north.... Trips to my grandparents house in Grand Bruit NL (look it up it is isolated ) were always fun and it is most definitely where I got my love of fishing. My earliest memories of fishing are from there with a bamboo pole, a piece of line as long as the pole, a hook and some worms. We would hike back and fish the small brooks between the ponds for rainbow trout and come back with 30 or 40 trout to clean and fry. If we weren't going "troutin" we would be out in a dory jigging for cod, dragging for muscles, pulling some lobster traps, hunting caribou or all of the above at once... but that's a different story...

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  6. #4
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    May 2012
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    Mocksville
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    My Dad always had me tagging along to go fishing with him. My most memorable trip with him was when we were visiting relatives in Michigan. I was 10 or 11 at that point. They had a cabin on a lake where the whole family stayed when on vacation. There were tons of us there during the Summer. One particular day, Dad took me with him to pike fish. He set me up in the front of the boat with a telescoping glass cane type pole, a small minnow and a bobber. He sat there Pike fishing while I waited on my bobber to start bouncing. I was catching Bream hand over fist and he was catching nothing. Granted, he was using a huge live bait and a heavier rod.
    We had been fishing for about an hour when my bobber went under. I lifted the rod tip and started bring another Bream in, when the rod suddenly doubled over and nearly was jerked from my hand. I told my Dad I had a big fish on. He pulled in his rod and let me walk the big fish around the boat. He was whooping that I had a big pike on and to play him carefully. After a few minutes,the fish finally came off of the bottom. It wasn't a Pike,but a HUGE Bowfin. We hauled it into the boat and threw it into the bottom of the boat. My dad grumbled about a trash fish and we weren't going to catch anything else in that spot if the "Dogfish" were there. It was common practice back then to kill all Bowfin that were caught because they were "destructive"
    I really didn't care that they were trash fish. That was the biggest fish I had ever caught at that point. It was the same as catching a grander Marlin to me. As we motored back towards the cabin, i was hollering at the top of my lungs for all of my cousins and Mom to come see what I had caught. They all came to the dock thinking there was trouble. I lifted that fish like it was the holy grail and everyone made a big deal of it. It is still the largest Bowfin I have ever caught, weighing in at 15 pounds. I'm sure all the adults were slightly amused,but, I could tell my Dad was a proud guy at that point. Best fishing memory, EVER


  7. #5
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    Mar 2017
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    Bath—Belhaven area
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    Coming up as an eleven year old, me and two of my younger brothers, age 9 and 7, decided one day we were going up to a railroad track about a 1/2 mile from our house to smash pennies under the train wheels. It was a big secret adventure, and we raided a giant 2 foot tall glass jar of as many pennies as we could pack into our pockets (and if our mother had known what we were up to she would have stopped us immediately from going anywhere near the RR). Anyway, once we got up to the tracks we found a trestle bridge with a creek and small pond under it.

    We could see fish swimming lazily in the water below us, and after we smashed all our pennies under the train wheels, we vowed to come back and try our hand at fishing. I mowed a couple of neighbors yards for a few bucks, and a day or two later that led to the purchase of a cheap Zebco plastic push-button rod and reel combo from a newly opened K-Mart, with those big old red and white plastic bobbers, and a handful of hooks. We dug a hole on the side yard of our garage, and collected about a dozen earthworms into a plastic margarine tub, and set off again for the RR trestle. When we weren’t playing baseball in a nearby sandlot with the other neighbor kids, my brothers and I spent most of that summer catching brim, suckers, and catfish from that trestle, passing the rod back and forth as we took turns. The train was on a fixed schedule, and we could see a mile or more in each direction. Our fishing was interrupted by the occasional scramble off the bridge and tracks whenever the train came through.

    We shared that secret spot with just a couple other kids, feeling like we had discovered something very special. This would have been about 1963, and that was the start of a life-long hobby and passion for the three of us, one of whom passed away 5 years ago. Eventually, our youngest brother, who was just a 3-year old at the time, got bit by the fishing bug, too. The three of us who remain still get together a few times of year to fish, although not often enough.

    Kayak Angler, Red X Angler, and a Full Time Angler (as of 2/1/18!!!)Retirement!

  8. #6
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    Apr 2011
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    Statesville
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    14

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    12 yrs old back in the 80s at Murrell's inlet my Dad invited an Air force Sgt to come fishing with us. Being that we had an old glasstron 14ft trihull skiboat with the walk-through windshield (you know the one) we'd normally hang in the inlet. This day was pretty calm so we headed out to the paradise reef. We promptly started catching bottom feeders and I saved a few of the bloodier ones for my shark rod. After I got enough I baited up and tossed it away from the boat and let off the drag. Old Sarge watched this with interest and I suspected he had never saltwater fished before. Well low and behold my rod hit pretty quick and Sarge has the balls to grab my rod and wasn't giving it up! I'm thinking this guy just crossed that line with me. Long story short is the bait gets spit out and the line goes slack. Without saying a word Sarge hands the rod back to me. After burning holes through his head with my eyes I lowered the bait back in the water about 10 ft turned to my dad and said "Watch this!!!". I counted to three and jerked as hard as I could........ After a 45 minute fight and being drug a half mile we managed to get this 7'2". 126lb. Tiger Shark to the boat. We never actually put it in the boat deciding it'd be safer to tail rope and drag him to the dock. The look on Sarges face was priceless. Remember. Sharks never give up......


  9. #7
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    Jan 2019
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    Swannanoa
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    My curiosity started really young. Not sure what kind of rod I used. While my mom was busy with a newborn, I snuck over to neighbors Koi pond and started fishing for what to me back then were big fish. I somehow hooked one about the time my granma caught up to me. Not being much more than 4 yrs old, do not remember it all, but do remember my butt being a bit sore. That curiosity has been a passion for 58 yrs now.


  10. #8
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    Jul 2009
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    Pittsboro
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    Quote Originally Posted by LIVIT View Post
    My curiosity started really young. Not sure what kind of rod I used. While my mom was busy with a newborn, I snuck over to neighbors Koi pond and started fishing for what to me back then were big fish. I somehow hooked one about the time my granma caught up to me. Not being much more than 4 yrs old, do not remember it all, but do remember my butt being a bit sore. That curiosity has been a passion for 58 yrs now.
    That reminds me of my favorite place to eat when I was a kid... the Adams Mark Hotel in Memphis. We used to go there once a year, usually for Easter brunch with family friends. However, it wasn’t the food that I cared about. There was a pond that wrapped around the hotel and it was full of big koi and catfish. I would sneak rolls and crackers from the table and go outside on the patio so that I could feed the fish. I remember daydreaming as a kid about sneaking a telescopic rod into the hotel so I could go fishing.

    Another time, on a field trip in middle school, my class took a trip to the local botanical gardens. It had ponds with koi in them, too. I had brought a bag of sunflower seeds along and found out that the fish liked to eat them. So I put some in the water to see how close the fish would come. Very close apparently, as I was able to touch the fish. I decided to do one better and put another handful of seeds near the edge of the bank and actually managed to scoop one of the koi onto the bank. As it was flopping around, some of the girls in my class started screaming, so I gently picked it up and put it back into the water. That was my first (successful) attempt at noodling... good times!


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  11. #9
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    Feb 2020
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    Sunrise
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    I didn't know fishing shows were edited and they would average a catch per cast. I used to tell my mom they had underwater divers connecting the fish to the lures. She didn't watch fishing shows so she believed me, we both know better now
    Bleedingblue, LIVIT, and Old Hunter like this.

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  12. #10
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    Jul 2010
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    Whitsett
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    I can't imagine it happening nowadays, but in the early 1970's when I was 12 or 13, my parents would actually allow me to spend the night out on the ocean piers in NC. We lived inland near Greensboro, so trips to the beach were real adventures. I have to give a shout out to my Dad and other fine men in our church that enjoyed the enthusiasm of a young kid, and had carried me along on their various hunting and fishing adventures. By the age of 12, I had watched them enough to learn how to rig my on "clothespin rig" and fish off the end of the pier for "Big Game". I had the fishing/hunting bug bad, and when we arrived at the coast, my parents would actually drop me and my gear off at the pier house and come visit me occasionally. They would fish some during the day, but I was on my on at night. One evening when all the other "King Fisherman" were packing it in for the night, they told me I needed to bring in my gear, they said kings didn't hit at night, and all I would catch was a shark. I wasn't about to miss out on valuable fishing time, so I tied my "fighting rod" to the pier and continued to catch bottom feeders while I waited. About 2:30am, I had curled up in my sleeping bag in the shelter, when I was aroused by the sound of a "screaming drag" on my old Penn reel. I jumped up, grabbed the reel, set the hook, and began to do battle with whatever was on the other end of my line. After a prolonged tug of war, giving and taking back line, I finally got my "1st King Mackerel" to the pier. Until then, I hadn't noticed that I was the only person on the pier and didn't have a net or gaff to bring the fish up onto the pier. I hollered for a good while before the attendant in the pier house stuck his head out to see what the ruckus was about, the whole time being fearful that the fish was going to get his second wind and break me off on the pier piling. Thankfully, the attendant brought out a gaff and helped me land my prize. I couldn't wait until morning, when my parents and brother would show up and see the leviathan I had captured during the night, while lesser fisherman were sleeping. The next morning I basked in my glory when everyone oohed and aahed when I opened the cooler to reveal my prize. Looking back, I never even measured or weighed the fish, but it was my most memorable catch.


  13. #11
    Join Date
    Jun 2018
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    Cape Carteret
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    36

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    Fishing on the Iron Steamer with my Dad and brothers from about 1967 to about 1973. We were regulars as my Dad liked to fish for King Mackerel on the end. As the oldest I was in charge of my three younger brothers - we bottom fished along the pier always trying to be around the old wreck. I remember getting in the Spot really big one time and we were pulling them up two at a time on bottom rigs - filled a Coleman metal 48 quart ice chest up with them. We each (the four boys) had a Penn #9 reel on a stiff rod (wooden handled butts). Dad didn’t want us casting overhead - he was afraid we’d hook someone so we just dropped the rigs straight down or pitched the rigs out. It was great fun, eating Vienna sausage and Bennie Weenie and honey buns and drinking Pepsi. Would love to have one of those days back to relive. OH
    74adamsmith, Chris52, and Pond Pounder like this.


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