Remembering a special trip with Dad that truly went to the birds

Funny how fishing situations that we would initially label as a disaster can actually turn into some of our most treasured memories.

My dad and I were fishing New Melones Reservoir for bass, trout and crappie sometime in the early 1980s. We had arrived in the late morning and began bass fishing the shoreline. We continued until dark when we planned to get ready to night fish.

The one thing my father loved more than anything was night fishing for crappie and trout using lights to draw them in. The (my) problem was that cold didn’t bother my dad, but I hated freezing ( I didn’t get the antifreeze gene!) – no matter how many fish we caught.

It’s beginning to get dark and suddenly a dense fog sets in that progressively is getting worse. I’m talking visibility of 30 yards, as bad as I’ve ever been in. We’re not where we want to anchor to fish overnight and we’ve become lost, with no idea of where we are. No GPS back then and our compass was no help in the cove and island area. All we could do was move slowly through the swirling fog with me on the front with a flashlight looking for shoreline.

We were meandering slowly along when the tops of a bunch of trees became visible and we decided we better just tie up to one. We had no idea where we were.

My dad was getting out his lanterns to hang over the water and hopefully draw some fish in when I looked at the little “ flasher” depth sounder we used as our “sonar” back then. It showed the water was around 45 feet deep but there were all kinds of intermediate flashes – the kind that schools of fish make. I dropped a little mini jig over the side, just checking it out, when something pulled my pole down! A nice crappie.

So here we are, who knows where, in dense, swirling fog with one lantern lighting up the surreal scene and the fish are in full melee mode below us! I’m freezing and hungry, but I couldn’t even get the little jig down long enough to eat an apple. If it wasn’t a big crappie, it was a beautiful trout (up to over 18 inches) for each of us for the next couple hours. Never had so much fun shivering.

So I’m in the back of the boat around 2 a.m. and all we have on is the lantern lighting up our little foggy world when I suddenly hear the rush of air over my head. Confused, I look around when I suddenly feel a webbed pair of seagull feet land on top of my head! The seagull is screaming from the sudden realization I’m not a pole in the dark and it launches off my head back into the foggy darkness. Poor bird was lost, too. I was ready when another gull flapped around my head looking for anywhere to land. That’s foggy!

My dad thought it was hilarious and I heard about it for years. He always added that the bird had done “his business” on my cap before he left – not true! Thankfully, it wasn’t an eagle.

The next morning we realized we had anchored off a small island surrounded with trees going into the water.

If it hadn’t been for that nasty fog, we wouldn’t have ever fished that spot loaded with feeding fish. It was a very memorable and special trip with my dad – one I still treasure as one of our best! Looking back after searching around in the fog and hitting the mother lode, I have to say two things. Never give up, and don’t let the seagulls land on your head!

This story was originally published January 21, 2020 at 12:26 PM with the headline "Remembering a special trip with Dad that truly went to the birds."