Categories: Hobbies/Sports

A Retirement Fishing Tale

Several years ago my old high school buddy, Al (Class of ’58 – yeah, I mean old!), drove down from Oregon to go fishing with me. Our plans included a visit to the Delta for a couple of days to get him onto a big ol’ sturgeon. We towed the boat with the motorhome and spent the night at Brannan Island. The motorhome adds a very comfortable dimension for us old graybeards. There’s nothing quite like having all the conveniences of home available when the day’s fishing is done. A hot shower and a soft couch is quite an improvement over the V-berth after a long day of fishing.

We launched at Brannan Island State Park near Rio Vista (California) on Wednesday morning, then headed directly to nearby Decker Island and anchored near the edge of the ship channel. I have caught several sturgeon at that spot over the years, but haven’t had much luck recently. I very seriously considered cruising down to Suisun Bay, but since we planned to stay at Brannan Island that night, it seemed a waste of fishing time to do so much cruising to and from the bay.

We began fishing a bit before noon as an incoming tide was well underway. The tide would begin to turn about 3 O’clock and we planned to fish ‘til nearly dark if necessary. We tossed a couple of lines out over the transom in hopes of catching Al’s first ever striper or sturgeon. My hope was to get him onto a mighty sturgeon for a fishing memory he’d never forget. One line had my usual lamprey chunks on both hooks as our best offering for attracting a sturgeon. The other line was baited with shad. This was Al’s first sturgeon trip and while the odds of getting someone onto a sturgeon in one trip were pretty slim, we had high hopes.

Predictably, the shad were high maintenance as the little nippers kept stealing them. The lamprey attracted only a few nips but the thieving little nippers couldn’t steal it. Occasionally I added small bits of lamprey to the hooks to keep the scent fresh and strong. Al managed to snag one very small striper with the shad and we tossed it back. He was pleased to have actually reeled it in. He’d “caught” his first striper. I had much higher aspirations for him.

Finally, about 1600, after the outgoing current became just strong enough to turn the boat, there was a gentle sturgeon nibble on the lamprey. And… we were hooked into something of substance! At first the fish seemed to swim toward the boat as the hook was set and we thought we had just a small, shaker sturgeon on. But soon it was apparent that it was no small fish.

I reeled in the other line and commenced shouting instructions to Al as he began the fight:

“Don’t give him any slack, man!” I hollered. “Don’t let him rest! If he isn’t taking line, pull up, reel down!”

“Whatever you do, do NOT get the rod tangled into those raised motors! Reach way out over them if you have to!”

“If the line suddenly feels slack, reel like heck – he might be running toward the boat!”

“Aw, shut up, Dale”, I said to myself. And no doubt Al had the same thought. But Lord knows it’s hard to remain calm and collected in the middle of a battle!

Al’s face showed his disbelief at the power of the fish he was suddenly battling – he’d never fought such a mighty fish before. He was completely awed by the fish’s ability to peel off line against a strong drag. The Penn’s lever drag was pressed forward to the stop and yet the fish ran at will, taking line with wild abandon. Al has fought his share of steelhead and salmon and knows how to fight fish, but nothing could have prepared him for the raw power of the mighty sturgeon. He traded the rod from one hand to the other and back again, his muscles aching from the stress of the battle.

Al’s sturgeon was unusually strong! He refused to come to the boat and remained unseen for nearly twenty minutes. Al was beside himself as he fought the fish of a lifetime! For twenty minutes the battle wore on, taking its toll on both fighters. Eventually the big fish began to tire and came nearer the boat. When the monster first surfaced, Al nearly dropped in disbelief; he had just reeled in the biggest fish he had
ever seen!

I had the net in hand and as the tired beast lay in submission by the boat I gave him a poke with the handle to see if he had any more fight in him. It was about this time that things got dicey…

The big sturgeon did not react to the poke, and I attempted to net him. In the process, I snagged the second hook in the netting when the big sturgeon was only about half netted. It was about this time that I gouged myself with the hook and ripped my finger open. %*$#@&!!!

So there we were having the time of our lives, one hook firmly attached to the net, the other firmly attached to the fish, the fish out of the net and me bleeding like a stuck hog. The only things in our favor were the very firm hookup we had and the fact that he had nearly given up the fight. We were living a Keystone Kop movie! Somehow, while bleeding all over the net and the fish, I managed to get the sturgeon stuffed back into the net. I then grabbed the fish knocker and administered a few righteous whacks to the fish’s broad head – and I bled all over the fish knocker. I heaved the net and the fish over the gunwale and onto the deck. I bled on the gunwale. I bled on the deck. I was ecstatic! Al was wide-eyed in amazement at his huge catch.  I bled on Al. I splattered blood everywhere. We were having a ball!

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Dale Gillespie

I spent a working lifetime selling brushes door to door, milking cows, driving big ol’ trucks, and several other jobs. I finally established a couple of small businesses that did pretty well. Fortunately for me, I was able to retire in 2002 at 58 years old, and frankly, for several years prior to retiring, spent more time fishing than I did working. Oh, and somewhere along the way I took up RVing, something that has become my favorite pastime. A couple of years ago, approaching my 70th year, the time came to give up fishing. The work involved with the boat, fighting big fish, etc., became more like work for an old man. I have taken up reclining as my main hobby, and spend entirely too much time watching TV, stretched out in my recliner. I take the occasional long RV trip with my loving wife, and sometimes alone. When the trips get too long for her, she flies home and I continue down the roads. During my fishing days, I wrote fishing reports for a California Delta website about my fishing adventures, including photos and videos of those adventures. I have also written and saved travelogues of the RV trips, and have saved them on my website. I have kept all those stories and find it very enjoyable to relive them. I’m happy to share my stories with others, and hope you find them enjoyable, too. Please check out my fishing and RVing websites. Any comments? I'd love to hear from you by email.

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  • That sturgeon was probably 20 to 25 years old. Charts are available online that estimated a sturgeon's age by its length and weight. The largest sturgeon are too big to weigh because they must be released and lifting their huge mass out of the water would injure and even kill them. The largest are estimated to be as much as 1100 lbs. and 100 year old. And... the sturgeon is the oldest living fish species on earth.

  • I don't know about California, but in Washington and Oregon it's illegal to take a sturgeon longer than 54 inches; reason being that the older sturgeon are the spawning sturgeon and keeping sturgeon the older sturgeon helps maintain breeding populations. Sturgeon are long-living fish, and don't start breeding until between 5 and 11 years (different maturities for males and females); they don't breed every year, but the older a female gets, the more eggs she may produce -- hense the maximum size restrictions.
    It's my understanding that California also has a max size restriction, which is 60 inches; and barbless hooks are required.
    Given these two considerations, I wonder (1) how you snagged your finger so badly on a barbless hook, and (2) whether this fish was actually legal to keep.

  • Note the first sentence of this story. At that time barbless hooks were legal and the limit was 72". Damn; I remember back in the day when a feller could get an atta boy now and then for a good catch. Nowadays it's "poor fish" and "was it legal...". Sheesh.

    Part of the reason I gave up fishing, besides simply getting old was the endless and excessive regs the state fish and game kept adding but were not able to enforce because Kalifornistan will not fund nearly enough for enforcement of their endless regs. We have the smallest budget for enforcement of any state based on number of fishing and hunting licenses issued. It's a pathetic situation and I'm glad I'm not part of it any longer.

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Dale Gillespie

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