Funny Fishing Stories

Hi all,

I enjoyed reading the stories on the post about "the one that got away." How about some funny fishing stories? Here's one to get it started..

A while back my uncle and I were fishing a stream on the first day of trout season. Fishing was slow and we were BS'ing just to pass the time. At one point my uncle leans back and says "Man I could use a beer right now." Not 5 minutes later a six pack of Coors comes floating downstream! You bet he waded out there in his jeans on that cold April morning to claim his gift from the gods!...PRICELESS!

...how about the story of the samich fish...you guys ever heard or seen that one?  


                                        SHOWTIME SON!..... ENJOY!!!

                            http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n22zkGHDg2U

I was fishing in Canada with my dad and our Canadian friend (who likes to party), he and I were kicking back the Labatt Blues pretty good. My dad does not  drink at all. I snagged the anchor  line and thought I had a huge fish, man was I embarassed when I saw the achor comming up.

One more,

My brother and I were fishing the hole at 7 mile a few years back with a few other guys. I was closest to the waterfall below the trail and he was drifting for fish near the back of the hole. The other guys and myself were hooking up pretty regularly while my brother wasn't getting anything. At one point he walked up to me and said he'd been drifting everything he had at this HUGE fish near the back of the hole. He asked what I was having luck on, so I gave him one of the woolly buggers I was using. When he went back to drift for that fish again, a guy on the other side of the stream finally looked at him and said, "Dude why do you keep messing with that fish on my stringer?!!." I guess he and his buddies were holding back their laughter as my bro was fishing for this guys fish for over an hour! Needless to say I've never let him forget about that one. Every time we walk down a stream I point to fish on stringers and say....Wow, look at that pod of fish. Go get 'em!

hunting/beer story.  
 
So me and four friends were small game hunting in Somerset county.  We walk in about 25 feet from the road and there, lying in the weeds, was a whole case of Miller beer.  We each start loading our game bags with the bottles.  I said, well, I've got my limit for the day. 

just this past year at the stopsign hole.i had an incident with another "fisherman"that was kinda funny....there were a few folks fishing there,the creek was flowing nice and there were a lot of fish.the gentlemen next to me was very nice and we started chattin away,and helped each other netting fish.along comes this other "fisherman".and seeing we were doing ok as far as catching fish,decided to jump in almost on top of us.there was plenty of room around us but he decided he wanted to be where we were.my new found friend decided that was enuff and moved to the other side of me.the "fisherman"then decided to crowd me.i held my hand up and told him "thats close enuff".a few casts later,the "fisherman"hooks into a nice fish.he immediatly started backpeddling toward shore when he tripped over a rock he didnt see.nevertheless he got very wet.my new found friend and i got a good chuckle out of it......tell me there is no fishing god?.....btw.the "fisherman"didnt get hurt.his pride maybe, but physically he was ok.

Alright...I got one at my uncle's expense...
 
Swan Cove on Presque Isle, Fall 1980...
 
My dad, uncle and myself used to hit PI Bay hard back in the "coho days".  We couldnt go out on the main lake much as our boat was 18'.  It was a deep V but when Erie gets rough - we'd just stay in the bay.  Well - you see - my uncle was the "pooper" of the family.  I mean he'd poop before we left, on the way to launch the boat, and somtimes right before we'd shove off at the west pier in Marina Bay.  After trolling all of the morning and into the afternoon we had made our way out into the main chanel - when - my uncle says "Butch - I gotta "poop".  He used alot more colorful language than that - So use your imagination.  Dad ignores him as usual.  "BUTCH - I GOTTA POOP"!  Dad would get P.O.'d every time we were out this would happen and wouldnt let him go in a bucket.  "Not in my boat"  He'd say.  Knowing my uncle - I cant say that I blame him.
 
By now my uncle is standing - grinding his pipe between his teeth - smoke looked like it was coming out of his ears.  Dad's like "J***** *****t Jim - you went twice today already!  Tells me - "bring in the lines".  I do and we go hauling butt full throttle towards the penninsula to his favorite stop - Swan Cove.  My uncle is still standing - hat pulled way down so it wont blow off - grinding on his pipe - and hanging on to the windshield ready to flip it open as soon as we get ashore.  We get about oh - say - about 50 yards from shore - that little outhouse with just a "hole" in the floor is in plain sight.  Dad backs it off and nothing.  We hit sand - the water there is like a foot deep.  I know we're not going to make it clear to shore.  By this time he's up on the bow.  "PUNCH IT BUTCH"!  Dad's got the trottle down and my uncle boots pants and all goes into the water.  LANDS ON HIS FEET and starts heading to shore.  Gets to the edge of the water and there's a little sloped bank there about 3 high.  Steps on on a root with wet boots and you guessed it - falls right on his back and proceeds to fill his britches - pipe still in his teeth.  I've never seen my dad laugh so hard in his life.  Needless to say - he never lived that down.  We had to go back to the camper at the launch to get him a change of clothes.  My dad told that story over and over and would bring down the house.  As I do now.
 
I hope there is a heaven.  Because if there is...they are both fishing there right now.

oh - there's more...fishing with my dad and uncles there was never a dull moment...Its no wonder why I like fishing with my feet on tera-firma....And I havent even scratched the surface on hunting stories....I'll save those for another day....

 
     My boss invited me and a coworker along on a fishing trip to erie with the guys from his hunting camp.  Well, I have a problem with the "grass is always greener on the other side of the crick," so I decided to cross a bridge, and come down the bank on the other side.  With a little over a foot of snow on, it was treacherous. 
       I managed to get into the crick with freezing hands, feet, etc.  I had a few nice drift lanes i took advantage of and fished for over an hour from that spot.  Well, I was about completely frooze, and they wanted to head towards 20 mile, so I had to climb out of the spot. 
      I accessed the situation, and decided the crossing the crick in chest waders was safer then climbing back up the bank/cliff/cobblestones buried in snow.  I knew there was a ledge in front of me, I just wasnt sure how far it dropped off.  Well with my numb dumb foot, I tried to tiptoe to the edge, and "feel" down over with my foot to see what the drop was.
      The next few seconds felt like an eternity.  With my boss and coworker watching from across the crick, I chickened out on the crossing plan, spun around, crossed my feet, tried to take a step, hit a cobblestone up to my knee, and dropped. I was on my knees with the water flowing swiftly around me, and tried to stand up, only to lose my balance further.  I had to put my hand down in the icy water to regain my balance, and water started into my waders.  i finally stood up, ashamed and embarassed, and climbed out of the crick up the cobble stone hill. 
      
 
     I have yet to hear the end of it. 

I was fishing the manchester hole a few years back with a friend. Not many other anglers around at the time but us and 3 others. We were all spread out plenty of space. I know what you are all thinking but its true , only a few anglers there. I was 15 feet away from this ole timmer. He was having trouble casting, getting his bait to where he wanted it to go. As you all know there is this ledge there and if your not careful , you can take a header right off that ledge. Well this ole timmer kept inching his way to that ledge and low and behold he went in. I rushed over to help get him out. He was fine and continued to fish, a little bit wet but fine.Well dont you know he done it again 3 casts later. Yes I went to help again,and once again he brushed himself down and continued to fish. I though what a trooper. Didnt even faze the guy. I hooked into a fish a couple of minutes later and the fight was on. He though hed return the favor and help me net the fish and you can guess what he done again , yup, right in he went and this time he went all the way in over his head. I ended up netting him out of the water instead of the fish. I asked him if the third time was the charm and maybe its time to hang it up for the day. He replied i think your right.