My Fishing Widow, My Wife, My One and Only Everything

In 1970, I was working every moment of my spare time at a gas station in Alexandria, VA. I had just come out of a divorce in which I inherited the monthly payments on a new car for the ex, as well as child support for two daughters and a host of bills from the first marriage. My Navy paychecks just wouldn’t cover all my obligations, so I had no choice but to work nights and weekends pumping gas.

Little did I know when I started to work at that gas station that it would prove to be a turning point for me. As luck would have it, my night manager had a niece who had lost her husband, and as he got to know me better, took it upon himself to start playing matchmaker for his niece and me.

We finally met one night at the gas station, and in April 1971, were married. Fifty-one years later, we’re still a happily married couple...and that’s despite the fact that not too long after we said “I do,” an apartment neighbor got me hooked on bass fishing. In no time, I was all in…hook, line and sinker.

All was well until I received Navy orders to a year’s unaccompanied tour of duty with the Middle East Force Staff. I just had been advanced to chief petty officer and was being dispatched to be the admiral’s public affairs officer. This Navy assignment, however, was not the thing that nearly sank my second marriage.

You see, my bass club had a two-day tournament the weekend before I had to board a plane for Bahrain…and, yes, of course, I just had to fish the first day of it. As it worked out, some of the other wives were going to the tournament with their husbands, and I persuaded mine to join them. We all had rooms to stay in, but let’s just say these rooms left a bit…quite a bit, speaking honestly…to be desired. As a result, there were a lot of unhappy ladies.

The lackluster tournament we had…on day one, at least…was nothing, compared to the mood of our brides. And as I climbed on that plane Monday morning, I knew some things were going to be different when I returned home a year later.

My fishing widow and I had reached an understanding that I would scale back the vast amount of time I had been devoting to my hobby. And given the passage of time, I simply no longer could sustain a schedule today like the one I kept back in those early days…don’t even have the desire.

I just really appreciate the fact my wife nearly always is OK with anytime I want to spend on the water now. Back in the day, I was taking far too much for granted; actually, I had my priorities misaligned, and that’s a sure-fired way to find yourself in hot water…as I learned the hard way.

Whether you’re a fishing widow, golfing widow, or whatever, you matter…and we fishermen, if our heads are screwed on right, know it. I’ve been party to many a conversation where anglers were singing the praises of their own wives in this regard.

Because my wife is always there for me, I’m paying her this much-deserved tribute. She deserves no less, considering that she has given me the best years of my life. To her, I say, "Thank you, Love, for being the dandiest keeper I ever landed."