15 posts in this topic

There was this one time I was fishing with a buddy of mine for stripers on Assateague. He is an excellent fisherman in all ways. Seriously, this guy has everything on the ball and all his ducks are in a row... Now that we have that understanding, here is the story:

We were fishing and had been fishing for about 4 hours. This had been an extremely slow spring for me, as I had not caught a legal striper all spring and the summer was approaching fast. I had put in nearly 200 hours on the beach that winter/spring and had been fishing HARD putting in lots of money and time.

We were sitting in our chairs, talking about how many fish HE had caught and my rod goes down! FISH ON!!! It was definitely a striper because of the rod action. Well, I ran to get the rod and pulled it out of the sand spike.

I fought it for about 10 seconds and then SNAP! My line broke. Well, I just about cried. My buddy grabs the rod and says, what kind of line are you using here!? This stuff is weak! Needless to say, I was beyond the brink of insanity. I had the pressure of not landing a fish for MONTHS and now I was being lectured (rightly so) by a professional I was trying to impress. To land a keeper rockfish in front of him would have been AWESOME. Now I am getting a beat down for having bad gear... Well, I felt like I was back in boot camp....years ago...flashes of the drill instructor in my face for not having shaved well enough.

Well, I took it well and I learned from my mistakes. I thanked him for his advise and watched him as he put on fresh line from his stash and equiped me with some of his gear.

One day, I'll catch a big one in front of him and I will feel like a true fishermen. Until then, I am humble. :redface:

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You must be taking my approach today, that is staying away from the coast until the school of humanity swims back north or west. You want us to gut ourselves now? I may have to sign on as "anonymous" before I post my most embarrassing episode.

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Ok,,,well this happened last summer and I was still relatively new to the surf fishing scene,,,met up with this guy for the first time who is a great sharker and to say the least I was little nervous and wanted to act like I knew what I was doing,,,told him I switched to conventional and was the best thing I have ever done,,,just got my 525mags and really never had a problem with them until the night in question,,,I told him that these are the best reels around,,,well with the first cast blow up,,,looked at him and pretty much said, "not sure what happened",,,he helped me untangle the blow up and after getting it untangled, went to cast again, wham, blow up,,,he helped again and went one last time,,,another blow up of epic proportions,,,felt like the biggest idiot ever and figured this guy was never going to fish with me again,,,got home and found the mag control set on fast,,,said to myself, "self, you are the biggest idiot!",,,that should of been the first thing I should have looked,,,the funny thing is, he would help me pick through the blow up and not say a word, meanwhile, I am saying to my self, you guessed it, "self, your an idiot!",,,thankfully it was getting dark and the red face of embarrasment wasnt showing.

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Looks like we are in the same boat, old friend. :D

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Ok if we are going with embarassing I have a good one..... couple years ago fishing the 50 bridge for flounder. I hook on to a monster got it to the bridge lower my net down and as I am trying to get him in the net he yanks and I drop my rod off the bridge:oops: ... he takes off and spools of all the line, luckily the rod landed in the net and I got it back but sheesh how stupid was that..... and there was like a million people watching.:oops:

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well we were fishin under the rt 50 bridge with rattle traps. one guy with us kept casting wrong and hooked the fence above us, thanks to the bridge guys above he got his lures back. i kept teasign him. then i casted 1 time, line snapped, lure flew up and hit some girl walking across the bridge, bo injuries, just my pride

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Ocracoke drum fishing many, many tides ago, the crew (6 + me) were camped out for a new moon night. The action was slooooow, so we dug into the ice chest for refreshments quite often. We had seven heavers planted, 6 with clickers on and mine without, hmmmmm, you get the hint? The empties were piling up and not a single run on any rod until I had to empty my tank. My rig was on the far left of the picket line and since everyone was listening and not watching all seemed well. When I came back to the BS session I glanced down the line and counted only 5 blanks pointed to the big dipper. I panicked as much as I could and jogged to the last known position of my rod. To my extreme disappointment the spike was in a prone position four feet towards the quiet surf. A narrow furrow was carved in the fresh sand from a dropping tide directly east towards Portugal. I recited a litany of foul words that would embarrass George Carlin on stage in Vegas on my dash into the suds. All I could think was what I was going to say to the pack of laughing jackals lumbering out of their rusty old beach chairs upon my empty handed return. Knowing I had 3 more days of this spring time hiatus left, I was bound to do everything I could to come up with some major league lie, find my rig or become the brunt of the punch line for eternity with my buddies. I decided to troll the coast line for my rig until King Neptune was finished entertaining Triton with human antics. As I paced through the waves hoping to stumble upon the rod or become entangled in the Stren #30, I tripped face first into the wash and ate a mouthful of grit. As I reached for the source of my falter, I found my boots were ensnarled with line! A glimmer of hope rushed through my thoughts could this be??? As I tugged on the line with my wrinkled mitts, the tugging was returned from Atlantis! Like morse code, for each yank came a pull in return. I thought I was on the anchor at the end of a grade school tug-of-war contest and I was not about to be hauled over the line in the dirt. I thought to myself, shouldn’t I be going the opposite way in case the rod was still attached? Well, like any man with an ounce of pride left in this situation, I continued the tow until I was assisted from the first sober fellow from the group. He picked up the loose line and gathered up my gear from the deep six. Together, he cranked in the slack with the worst grinding crunching noise you could imagine, as I held off the unknown until he passed me the heaver. I stood there crankin-n-crunchin until the bronze beauty was rolling in the foam. I passed the artillery back to my assistant so I could gather my prize. I called it quits after that since my reel was down until a sunlight tune-up. I looked like a disheveled street person just rising from a night on the grate. Embarrassed & humbled, but a grin from ear to sand filled ear.

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Great Story!!!!!! I love a happy ending :)

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Great Story OBG:D I thought for a moment ther I was reading one of Ben Sykes stories out of the Coastal Fisherman;)

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good one love the happy ending

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Wow, great story. You are quite lucky. I'm surprised that red didn't take the rod out 300 yards. Did he strip all the line off before it took the rod down?

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I was the dope :oops: that didn't put the clicker on! He must have set the hook via dragging the rod through the sand. The same thing happened to me when I was 14. I was carp fishing in the reservour with a concoction of jello, sugar, cornmeal and vanilla cooked and dough balled. I went behind a tree to take a leak when one took the rod through the fork stick and into the drink. That one was gone for good. I did watch that one dissappear leaving a trail of bubbles as it went. I was really upset losing that rod, it took me 6-8 neighborhood lawn cuttings to get the $ to buy it.:frown:

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I did the same thing in N.C. Wilmington on a fishing pier. Caught a Pin fish and put him on the line. Set the drag real lose and sat back and talked to the locals. Was talking to this one guy and he asked me what I had on and I told him a little Pin fish. He looked at the rod and said that he had some cord in his truck and that I had better tie the rod down. I siad ....."Naw I got the drag real lose it ain't going any where......" and like some light when on some where the dang rod starts to bounce and thats when things start to go in slow motion. Now I'm only 5 feet away and as I slowly reach for the rod it slowly rises higher and higher on the railing till it does this slow motion fall into the ocean. I looked at the guy and I swear he was saying Dumb Yankee.........But I did manage to get it back after casting for a time with a trebble hook weight combo. No fish but I did get the rig back:angel3:

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To finish the story off I did get some parachute cord form the local...... tied that rod down with another pin fish and dangit if I didn't get another big ol hit took some yards out really fast then that was it for the night :angry5: But a very nice nite other than losing my rod:icon_thumbdown:

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