In the Face of One Problem After Another

After a particularly tough Friday, a fella talks his wife into letting him go fishing the next day. There are some strings attached, though. In return, he has to promise to be home early to get some things done around the house.

The fella's wife wakes him at 3 a.m., makes him a snack to take along, and packs some water in his lunch bag. A half hour later, he grabs his truck and boat keys, kisses his wife, and goes out to unhook the battery charger. In the process, he notices the boat leaning seriously to one side and finds that he has a nearly flat tire on that side. He quickly pulls out a pump and, 10 minutes later, is on his way.

He gets to the only decent ramp on the lake only to find that the launch fee has gone up $2, so he writes a lengthy explanation on a piece of paper to let management know he will pay the rest when he comes in. He's just barely away from the dock when he notices that the boat's bow light is out. He shuts down the gas motor, jiggles the light, and it come back on. He takes off again, but the light goes out again, so once more, he stops, jiggles the light yet another time, and finally is on his way for good.

Upon arriving at his favorite spot, he turns off the big motor, unhooks the kill switch, removes his life jacket, and eases the trolling motor into the water. He then picks up his favorite rod and reel and starts casting but quickly learns that someone, the last time he fished, has messed with the cast-control knob. The rod subsequently twists out of his grip and goes overboard.

As he watches it slip slowly below the surface not far from the boat, he lays down, stretches out over the gun'l, and makes a last-ditch grab. "Got it!" he hollers...just moments before he finds himself slipping into the lake. "I've gotta get my big behind back into the boat, though," he thinks, as he remembers there are two treble hooks somewhere in the water. He tosses the rod back into the boat, then works his way past the trolling motor and back to the big motor, where he puts one foot on the cavitation plate and grabs the top of the motor to pull himself up and inside the boat.

It takes three tries before he is able to drag himself, with his wet jeans, shirt and tennis shoes, back into the boat. At that point, however, he realizes his hat is missing. He searches for only a few minutes before the breeze blowing onto his wet clothes and body gets to be too much. Besides, it still is dark, and he needs to find out where the boat has drifted. Seconds later, he finds out...the hard way. The boat bumps into the bank rather hard, and, once again, he goes overboard.

Once back onboard again, the fella moves to the front of the boat, picks up his rod, and trolls down to the next boathouse. He then unleashes what he describes as a "spectacular cast" to the front of the dock and begins his retrieve. The lure only moves a short distance before it comes to an abrupt halt, and he sets the hook. Unfortunately, the hookup is with a rope dangling beneath the dock.

He trolls over, lays down on the deck, and reaches over the side to unhook the lure. While moving around to get the job done, he accidentally rolls onto the control button for the trolling motor. The boat lurches, and because he's still holding that piece of rope, he goes into the water for a third time.

For the next six hours, he's the most careful fisherman you would encounter on any lake. He stays as far away from the edge of the boat as possible and doesn't cast toward anything. He doesn't catch many fish, but he sees a beautiful sunrise, listens to the heavenly sound of songbiards singing, and witnesses the birth of a new day.

As he prepares to head home and fulfill the terms of the bargain with his wife, he suddenly decides to go back and give his starting hole one last try. "What the heck?" he thinks. "Maybe things have settled down and Mister Big is there waiting for me."

He shuts down the big motor and very carefully makes his way to the front deck, where he eases the trolling motor into the water. He then looks across the lake and, low and behold, spots his fishing cap floating lazily on the surface.

"The next time someone tells you that a bad day of fishing is better than a good day working, I suggest that you tell them this story," the fella said. "Of course, I reckon it really wasn't such a bad day after all, 'cause I did get back my favorite hat."