Galilean Fisherman

Between Two Thieves      Well, because of various reasons (weather, appointments, etc.) I did not get an opportunity to fish last week. I guess I could have moved some things around on my schedule, but I was a bit on the lazy side. I could have fished during weather that normally keeps folks off the water, but it's that lazy thing again.  In hindsight, I regret not taking the opportunity to fish.      What I am left with is an irrational fear that the weather will not improve and I have missed my chance to fish until much later. Perhaps an Indian Summer or maybe not until Spring.        Too often we crucify ourselves between two thieves: regret for the past and fear of the future.       Bad decisions, strained relationships, poor choices, dogged determination to manipulate things our way, or laziness leave us with a pile of regret. Like a drag anchor on a kayak, these regrets prevent us from sailing through life unimpeded.        Often, regret is followed by it's evil

     On a recent fishing outing, I was sitting in the shade of a tree enjoying a light lunch when a drift boat came floating by.      A drift boat is one which has a shallow draft (able to float in shallow water) and is usually propelled by oars. It has a casting station in the front from which a person can fish as the boat drifts along the river.      This particular boat had a client perched in the casting station and the guide was manning the oars. None of which is remarkable.      However, the thought struck me - or perhaps God poked me - how like the Holy Spirit a fishing guide can be.      The guide was carefully and adroitly steering the boat around rocks and sandbars. All the while, the guide is encouraging the client, coaching the client, pointing out where the fish are most likely to be and the best spot to present a fly.      And it began to dawn on me that much like that guide in the drift boat, God guides us through life; encouraging us, directing us, helping us focus

I ran across this quote by Chief Dan George: "The beauty of the trees, the softness of the air, the fragrance of the grass, they speak to me. The summit of the mountain, the thunder of the sky, the rhythm of the sea, speaks to me. The faintness of the stars, the freshness of the morning, the dewdrop on the flower, speaks to me. The strength of the firs, the taste of the salmon, the trail of the sun, and the life that never goes away, they speak to me. And my heart soars." That quote spurred me into thinking about what it's like to float along a quiet creek and fish from a kayak. Sometimes, the beauty of nature speaks so loudly to me that I can't pay attention to anything else. Last week, I floated within 20 feet of a great blue heron. In our own way, we greeted each other then continued with our own pursuits. So, I ask myself this question: Is fishing an act of faith? Or it is worship? The quickest answer is that fishing is an act of faith. One chooses where to

It occurred to me, there is a direct correlation between fly fishing and free will. I have often said that the greatest gift and greatest curse God gave humanity is our free will.  In God's infinite wisdom, we were given the ability to make choices on our own. Even the choice NOT to honor or admit the existence of God. It was this same free will that lay at the cause of the first sin; exercising our free will to disobey God. It may seem quite a stretch to apply free will to fly fishing, so hear me out. I have a fly box filled with flies. Each fly in that box represents a choice that I made. In choosing each fly, I eliminated all other choices. When I reach into that box, select a fly and tie it onto my fly line, I have made yet another choice. I have chosen this particular fly because it appealed to me at the time. In my estimation, it has the greatest chance of tricking a fish. Then exercising yet more free will, I cast that fly in a particular place where I think it has t

So, I fished Little Sugar Creek in Mo Thursday, with Shaun Knight. We fished from kayaks. The Creek was running at 80% of mean, and the weather was magnificent. About 100 yards from where we put in, I wasn’t paying attention – rigging up my spinning rod with my fly rod handing over the front of the kayak – and drifted into a brush pile. The tip of the rod pierced the brush, the kayak kept moving forward with the end result that I broke my Sage rod! In two places! Before the first cast of the day! Since I had spinning gear with me, I used that. I fished a topwater lure - Heddon Torpedo - and had great success with it.  I landed 11 smallmouth – biggest was 14”, smallest about 6” – and more bluegill than I kept track of. Of course, I missed the biggest fish of the day; again not paying attention. A really big Largemouth bass swam by, I got distracted watching it when something hit my line and bent my rod almost double. I didn't set the hook so there isn't any