Rendezvous with a King

Rendezvous with a King

The ocean was like a piece of glass as we glided past the familiar black-and-white-spiraled St. Augustine lighthouse a mile or so off to our starboard side. Heading out into the great unknown on a muggy June morning, I couldn’t help but think of my grandmother’s...

The Intruder

The Intruder

It wasn’t much as waters go — probably a couple acres at best.  I’d passed by it many times always on the way to somewhere else.  It lay a few hundred yards off the road, nestled up against the back edge of the old cemetery.  I suppose to most people it would be a...

Cane Pole Magic

Cane Pole Magic

A cane pole, whether used from shore or in a boat, is wielded by a simple, graceful motion in which the angler lobs the baited hook. The image is as enduring as it is appealing, something straight from a Norman Rockwell cover on an old Saturday Evening Post. A...

As Crepuscule Closes In

As Crepuscule Closes In

A brief and artistic depiction of the very moment a young child falls in love with fishing. A faint zephyr curled the tip of her hair. Shoulder length. The lapping of edge water murmuring. Inveigling liquid whispers heralding dusk – some primal tongue understood by...

No More Mr. Nice Guy

No More Mr. Nice Guy

He just wasn’t going to take it anymore: the snow and cold and bass that seldom grow much bigger than your bait. No. The time had come to pull out all the stops in one last-ditch, hell-bent-for-whatever quest for a trophy bass… a gut-wrenching, arm-busting, heart-pounding wallhanger of a fish.

An Old Man’s Memories of August

An Old Man’s Memories of August

This fisherman's fairytale is far from folklore... A true story of giants, fairies, heroism and romance stay alive in an old man's memories. Once upon a time long ago and far, far away, there was a boy. “Wait,” someone will shout. “That sounds like an elementary...

A Fascination With Fly Rodding

A Fascination With Fly Rodding

From the time I was first able to tag along without completely impeding his fly fishing, Daddy let me accompany him on short after-work outings to nearby trout streams in my native Great Smokies. My father was a dedicated fly fisherman and one of those wise mentors...