Here is one about the determination of a dad to take his sons fishing.

Many, MANY moons ago (I think I was 8..now 44) my dad had taken my brother and I to Cachuma Lake (Santa Barbara area of Ca.).

We didn't own a boat, so we rented one of the 14' alum. with small OB. Had found us a nice little cove, but the boat had no anchor so to tie us up so we could fish some worms my dad took a big old Bomber plug (I remember it was yellow with black spots), tied on some 50 lb. mono to it and snagged it on a log that was hanging off-shore.

We fished for a bit, and when deciding to go he (dad) reached over to un-snag that big plug from the log...you guessed it..the hook popped free and buried itself in his right thumb just at the first joint.

My dad never was a man to swear..but he seemed to take special care with this situation and openly shared his thoughts on the issue of this hook buried way past the barb in his thumb joint.

He cut the line off and got the OB started, and motored into the little marina they had at the time. Leaving my brother and I in the boat, he went up to some picnic tables they had next to a little food kiosk, and proceeded to try and yank that hook out...no go.

He finally got some pliers with side cutters and cut the hook off below the eye, and proceeded to try and push that beast through his thumb and out the top side...seems a bone was in the way. He passed out twice trying to do this...scared the hell out of my brother and I.

Ultimately, he got us back in the old wagon, and then drove to a local hospital (1/2 hr. away?) and had that hook cut out of his thumb.

I'll never forget when he got back to the car (we waited)...he said...were here to fish, ain't we?

We went back and fished the rest of the day...never caught a thing (aside from his thumb)...but its a day I'll never forget. He had promised us a fishing trip, and no matter what was going to make sure we got in a full day.

Mike