Goin Fishin (A Story)

Goin Fishin Part 2

March, 2023

Five years ago, I recorded an audio piece casually at my kitchen table. I usually don’t keep files that don’t have any meaning, but this one hit a note with me. I even said at the end of the story that I would follow up after this fishing trip. Well, that never happened.

So, after all of the frantic running around I did on Friday, the 15th of September 2018, I am here to relate what happened on Saturday, the 16th.

Steve texted me about 5:15 that morning, saying that he would be a little late picking me up. That was okay with me, even though he had set the time for 6 am.

I was still a bit apprehensive about the trip, due to his drinking abilities. I was worried about him getting crocked and then driving us back from the reservoir. I thought since I had a little more time before he arrived that I would get some snacks together to at least soak-up some of the booze we might drink. I also made a thermos of coffee to help us wake-up. At the last minute I decided to fill my flask with Bailey’s Bristol Cream to spice up the coffee, and maybe keep him from drinking the hard stuff.

He arrived at about 6:45. I heard him pull up outside and grabbed my gear, and walked out the front door. I was very impressed with his little 14-foot flat-bottom john boat with the bass chairs. Just like his truck, it was immaculate.

I smiled; he tried, but it took some doing. He perked up when I told him how much I liked his boat. I loaded my stuff into the back seat of his Chevy. 

As we drove along, he told me that he had had a few too many last night and that was the reason he was late. Steve never made excuses or tried to hide the truth about things. In that way, he was always a straight shooter.

He was a drinker. He would get off work and have a snort, even before he left the parking lot. The only one that didn’t know or get told about his drinking was his wife, but she knew he drank. He hid bottles all over the garage, and she would look for them.

He never drank on the job. Ever! But he was a curmudgeon, tried and true. 

I always told him that he looked like Patrick Stewart (Star Trek TNG), and he told me he didn’t.

All in all, he is a very nice and generous person when he feels like it. He is honest to a fault. He never missed work and is very responsible.

We arrived at San Pablo Reservoir at about 7 am. He pulled into the lot and parked the rig. We got out and transferred my stuff into the boat. I watched as he rooted through all the storage spaces in the boat. Then he held up a large bottle of water. I looked at him with clenched eyes. He proceeded to unscrew the lid, then tipped it back, and took a swig. I thought this was weird. He turned away and spat it out, and started swearing. I looked at him and asked, What’s the matter.  He told me that he had filled the bottle with vodka, but his wife had found it, poured it out, and filled it with water.

After he recovered, we launched the boat and started across the reservoir. I got my thermos and poured us both a coffee. I handed one to him, and he smiled. I then pulled out my flask and poured him some Bailey’s. All seemed right in our world.

      When we got to the other side of the reservoir, we drifted while we set up our poles. I can’t remember what Steve put on his line, but I had put on a Mepps spinner. We didn’t troll, we would drift in and area for a while and then move to do the same thing. I snagged my Mepps and lost it, so I put on a Super Duper. On my second cast, I caught a trout about 10 inches long.

That perked us both up. By noon, we were pretty sure the one trout was about it. We drove the boat down the reservoir to the bait and tackle shop on a dock. We went in to ask about the fishing, and we got sandwiches and chips. Lucky for me (and him), they had no hard booze, so I grabbed a six-pack of beer. I thought beer would be pretty safe. The guy in the shop said that we were lucky to have gotten one fish, because no one was catching anything this morning.

We drove across the water to a beach of sorts on the other side and drank beer and ate our lunch. From the beach, we cast worms, letting them settle to the bottom. No bites were had by all. We kept the lines in while we finished eating and drank another beer; Steve had two. 

About two o’clock, we arrived back at the launching ramp, pulled the boat out, tidied it down, and cleaned it out for our ride home.

All and all, we had a good day together. Thank God his wife found the 20-oz bottle of vodka. Without the hard booze, Steve seemed good to drive, and we made it back to my place in good shape. I had a nice day, but had reservations about going out with him again because it was a good chance he would make sure the hard stuff made it next time. It is 2025, and we have never gone out again.