A Young Man Fishing

Last week I my oldest childhood friend, Harvey, his wife Jackie, and grandson, Nico, came to stay with me at my camp in Maine. I had offered to host them after Harvey relayed the enthusiasm his grandson had for fishing. Nico’s only fishing experience thus far was on the Long Island Sound, which is a bit different than fishing the lake waters of Maine. Several weeks before they arrived, I scheduled a day trip with Andy Brooks, my fishing guide, to take us all out on the waters of Spednic Lake. When we finally met in person, a Bob Dylan-like crop of hair greeted me dockside. Nico was a polite young man and tall for his 16 years. We all set off and followed Andy’s lead to a place on the water where we would try our luck. Nico stood in the canoe and, with a quick flip of his right arm, cast deep over a group of rocks close to shore. Within seconds, a two-pound smallmouth bass grabbed onto the fly and took off. With the calmness of a fisherman beyond his years, Nico patiently played the fish just long enough to exhaust it, enabling Andy to scoop it up in his net.

I was excited for Nico that he caught his first fish on the lake, and the excitement compounded when we realized the spot was teeming with bass. Watching Nico in many ways reminded me of myself back in the day, when I experienced my first hook up and then the back-and-forth drama of the fish on the line. It was a special morning, sharing my home waters.