Amidst fish tales and business meetings, a cold, wet, and windy rod-casting demo in southern Connecticut sets the stage for a story of perseverance. Though the odds of catching fish were slim, this adventure proves that fishing is about more than just the catch—it’s about the journey and escape.
The Call of the Coast
After a grueling, sleepless week, I found myself on the southern Connecticut coast for a business meeting at a fly shop, arranged by a friend and local guide. The meeting wrapped up with fish stories and camaraderie, set against the backdrop of one of the coldest, windiest rod-casting demos of 2006.
With business concluded, my travel companion and I followed our guide a little further north to scout a fishing spot. The plan was to hit the right tide in the early morning, but exhaustion from work and a lack of sleep dulled my will. Instead, we faced the worst possible conditions: rain, 30 mph winds, and 40-degree weather.
Chasing the First Catch
My motto, “You can’t catch a fish if you’re not fishing,” drove us forward, even as doubt lingered. Armed with instructions from our guide, we began a mile-long trek to a point near the river’s mouth. Despite warnings that it was the wrong tide, we pressed on, hoping for at least a few schoolies.
Five casts in, my phone buzzed. My friend’s voice crackled through: “Did you catch anything yet?” “No,” I admitted. “Told ya,” he laughed, reminding me the tide wouldn’t change until 6:30 PM—just as I’d need to leave.
Minutes later, I felt the unmistakable tug of a fish. My first striper of the season! It wasn’t much, but after being off the water for so long, it felt like a small victory. Still, two hours passed without another hit, and the biting cold began to settle in.
A Battle of Willpower
Across the shore, gulls swarmed a cove, battling the wind as they dove for fish. Their frenzy was a bitter reminder that the action was elsewhere. My gut whispered, “It’s over. No more fish today.” That instinct, which had ended bad days and fueled great ones, was hard to ignore.
Was this worth it for a single fish? As someone used to throwing 16-inch eels at 2 AM for cow bass, this felt like a grind. My friend, enduring a rough second year of fly fishing, hadn’t caught a single fish all day. Yet, when I glanced over, I saw not frustration but a wind-beaten smile.
“Do you want to keep fishing?” he asked.
“I’ve got to head home,” I replied. The two-and-a-half-hour drive loomed, along with another meeting about a fly fishing project.
It’s About the Journey
Fishing isn’t always about the catch. It’s about braving the elements, carving out a slice of escape from life’s chaos, and finding joy even in the struggle.
Whether it’s an hour or a 20-hour marathon, fishing is a chance to reconnect—with nature, with others, and with yourself. Sometimes, it’s the hard-fought days, not the easy catches, that remind us why we love the water.
So, listen to your passion. Push through the wind, the rain, and the doubt. Because even when the fishing is tough, the journey is always worth it.
