PICTURED IS A REDEAR SUNFISH, so named for the reddish border to the dark spot on its gill flap. It was caught on an earthworm, some of which is still on the hook. It can grow to over two pounds and holds the state record among sunfish at 2.99 pounds. Bluegills are also popular table fare, the state record for which is 2.02 pounds. The Redbreast Sunfish is one of the most strikingly colored (its state record is 1.75 pounds). There are about ten sunfish, including hybrids, two called goggle-eyes, and the Rio Grande cichlid (or perch).
(Photo by John Jefferson)

by John Jefferson

Televised bass tournaments lead outdoor newcomers to think that’s all there is to fishing.

Sure, big bass and tournaments are significant parts of sport fishing. My two sons and I even placed third in a tournament ourselves, once — had fun doing it and even had our picture in the newspaper.

But we’ve caught gazillions of fish since then, each raised another generation of anglers, and had lots of fun just fishing.

All three of us had grown up fishing for anything that bit our bait. Many lakes were still under construction, so largemouth bass were not as big or profuse as today. Tournaments were just getting started.

I grew up fishing with a bamboo pole with the line wrapped around the end of the pole and tied off. A bottle cork or plastic bobber was placed above the hook to keep the bait off the bottom. I’d take my Boy Scout knife and cut a thin opening down one side all the way to the middle of the cork and press the line through it from top to bottom. When the bobber started moving, I ‘d give the pole a slight upward jerk to set the hook before the sunfish swallowed it. Setting the hook hasn’t changed much over the years.

My kids probably started fishing that way, but soon graduated to Snoopy Rods and closed face Zebco spinning reels.

Our bait was earthworms, grasshoppers, crickets, or other insects that a fish might bite. In my early years, a dime would buy a can of worms. But dimes were scarce for a young’un my age, so I gathered a lot of bait by hand.

Primitive? Certainly, by today’s standards. But we learned to be resourceful. Worms could be found under bricks on the walkways.

Grasshoppers could be knocked silly with our baseball caps and captured alive if we hadn’t hit them too hard. I once discovered a three-day supply of cave crickets behind the pump in the well house. I also tied pieces of newspaper to the end of a bamboo pole, lit it with a match, and ran off wasps or yellow jacket from their nest so I could knock it down and use the larvae, which didn’t sting. Just a quick pass of the flame usually got rid of the adults. And I learned to run fast afterward and had a plan to drop the burn pole in a safe place. Believe it or not, I never started a fire.

I’d clean and scale the fish I’d caught, and Grandmother would cornmeal them and ease them into a hot skillet of grease. If they were freshly caught, they would seem to jump in the frying pan. And perch are one of the tastiest fish in the water. A lot better than bass — which I seldom caught anyway.

I still enjoy that. It’s a timeless skill. Provided you keep a garden hose handy if you’re robbing wasp nests — and can run faster than the yellow jackets!

JJ