Writing On The Fly: Fathers And Fishing

By George Liset, Writing on the Fly, InDepth NH

It doesn’t take much to bring back a memory. Sometimes it is a smell, or it could be a song which it more often than not is, especially to those in my generation. I can hear a song from my youth and tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing. This time, however, it was a picture. My son Reed sent me a picture of his son fishing at the Gunstock Fishing Derby in Gilford. It reminded me of the last time I fished with my dad.

My dad had been a career Marine and settled down near Camp LeJeune in Jacksonville, N.C. He had developed a love of fishing from growing up on a farm in Northern Wisconsin. My dad was raised by “The Aunts” after his mom died giving birth to his sister and his dad left shortly after. Fishing was a way to escape for a few moments and cope. At age 17 he joined the Corps and they became his family, but he carried his love of fishing with him.

My dad eventually met my mom and they raised two boys. My dad would try and bring us fishing. My brother and I were probably six and four, so one can picture how well that went. My parents eventually divorced and we moved away to frigid Massachusetts as my dad would call it. After fighting in the Korean War and spending a winter in North Korea he never wanted to be cold again. Distance made it difficult to fish together after that.

My dad eventually bought a piece of property on the Neuse River in New Bern, N.C. which became his little piece of heaven. As a young adult I would go to visit and we did fish on occasion. Fishing was one of the last things we did together. Fishing was one area we always agreed on. I didn’t always understand where my dad was coming from and it was just as hard for him.

It wasn’t until I got to read his letters that he sent home to my mom from his two tours in Viet Nam that I had an inkling. He retired from the Marines with more ribbons than most Christmas stores have. I also realized that as a father he was doing the best he could, the same way most of us fathers feel some days.

As my own children got older I bought a used Great Canadian canoe. It was blue with a big red maple leaf on the bow. My son and daughters enjoyed fishing from it in the local reservoir. The smiles that would appear on their faces when those Sunfish and Blue Gills would take the bait were priceless. I taught all my kids to fish. As my dad would say, “If you know how to catch a fish, you’ll never starve.”

I will be taking my grandsons and granddaughter fishing this summer. The two older I am slowly teaching to fly fish. For now, it will be drowning worms at the reservoir because pan fish are made to make kids smile. My son has started teaching his son who is almost five to fish and fly fish. The family tradition continues. We may not all see “Eye to eye”, but fishing tells us that doesn’t matter.

My son Reed and I will be taking our annual trip to fish the Trophy Stretch up in Pittsburg, N.H. We’ll be celebrating Fathers Day and his birthday. I’m sure I’ll get out fished again and I can hear it now, “Hey dad, you remember how Gpaw used to say that if you know how to fish, you’ll never starve? Well I hate to tell you but you haven’t caught appetizers yet.”

This article first appeared on InDepthNH.org and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.