By Christine Cunningham, for the Redoubt Reporter
The chances of catching fish were very, very small that day. So small, it was safe to say it could not be done. Not by me. According to my calculations, determined by faithfully logging all of my fishing occasions in a weather-resistant journal, then entering the data into fields in a database, which could be manipulated to determine patterns of success or failure, a fish could not be caught when the wind came out of the east.
Still, my nephews wanted to go fishing, and it wasn’t my fault that they picked a day with an easterly wind. Fishing parents often have contingency plans for the inevitable problem of disinterest. Plenty of snacks and a Plan B — sledding or ice skating, for instance. Under no circumstances was the Plan B to include matches or fire-building, their mothers told me.
“Not after last time.”
Since last time, all plans required clearance, so my Plan B was to bring hot chocolate. I forgot the hot chocolate.
Luckily, my 8-year-old nephew, Patrick, had only one plan. Within seconds of arriving at the lake he dropped his line down one of the holes I’d drilled. Before his dad could comment on the weather or his cousin, 9-year-old William, could choose a lure from the tackle box, Patrick was fighting his first fish. I tested the wind direction. It hadn’t changed.