Oh man...many times! Don't get me started...
I used to steelhead fish regardless of weather; Steelhead will do that to you. More than once I had to take a frozen reel unscrew it and pop it under my armpit to thaw it. I'd regularly pop frozen egg-sacks into my mouth to thaw them enough to fish with. Single digits and anchor ice make things challenging. But the steelies were often willing, especially when there ain't no one else out there. We had a dynamite spot below a power station that required a wade, sometimes at literally the very brim of my Xtra-Long waders in 31F water and single digit air. Sometimes I did it alone. That is not smart.
I used to (before I had a family) fish sun-up to sun-down, and the Earth always turned too fast. When a buddy joined me, after we'd pulled on the neoprenes at 5AM I'd quip, "Catheter's in! Let's git on 'em." You should've seen our waders more Goop and Duct tape than neoprene.
I sometimes spent Christmas or New Year's night laying on my back listening to the Lake Ontario surf while waiting for a steelhead to celebrate with. My buddy, Manny, used to say "Fish on -Good Day." That's about all he ever said that made any sense anyway.
I once hooked an early king salmon at midnight, on a 5-foot glass light-action spinning rod and 300 yards of 8lb. (I was fishing for trout). I had no control like fighting from a foot-long section of broomstick! I saw the knot at the bottom of the spool several times that night. I was not going to lose that fish. When you see the knot you stop pulling and pray they next run is back at you.
I discovered that night, that after you fight a salmonid for a long time they, unlike warmwater fish, can deflate their swim bladders. Then you are fighting weight, as well as body depth and fins. He would then sit on the bottom and both he and I would rest (silly of me, but I was very tired after consecutive nights of nighttime trout fishing, and working during the day). But I was not going to lose that fish Who knows how big it is! In the end I finally had to set the rod down, wrap the line around my hand and pull him off bottom, and basically hand-lined him to the net at 5:20AM. It only weighed 24lbs. My friends were not happy with me. My reel, a Mitchell 300, was toast. Believe it or not, I even back-reeled to Chinooks! I'd vowed never to use drag, and still haven't with spinning gear.
I went to work that day and was literally delirious from lack of sleep. You know, if you do something very important very intensively for some time you begin to react to ghosts. This would happen from goose hunting For weeks afterwards, any remotely goose-like sound would make my heart skip a beat music in a car next to me, children's voices on a playground,... . I was at work (security guard at a public museum) after catching that salmon and every time someone walked by and rattled change in their pocket I would leap to my feet! (We used coins to pin the line on the spool of our reels, and act as an alarm Hear the coins jingle and you've got trout from 3 to 18 lbs, or salmon from 15 to 40.) At one point a women walked in front me (slumped at my post) and all I could make out was someone walking in front of my fishing rods in moonlight! I leapt up and shouted, Lady! Your in my lines! You IN my lines!!! My boss sent me home. Neat guy we had an understanding.
OK, I'm started...
I fished out in the big lake too, mating on big boats, and in little, even tiny, boats too. Little boats and frigid Great Lakes are a bad risk. But, we'd fish thermal bars so far out you couldn't see shore in an open 16-footer. We once found a non-import Molsen bottle floating by! We wondered then if we were too far out. Nah!!!!
One April morning my friend Tim (a leathered biker who looked like a real bad ***, but was sweet as can be) showed up at my door with a cheap 9-foot inflatable raft, and a little Sears 3hp motor. As we left the ramp, other anglers just stared. One guy shouted, Are you stupid?! We waved.
Luckily it was too early for offshore thermal bars and we started finding fat football browns about a ¼ mile out. Those browns could tow that little airbag until it threw a wake! We did wonder what might happen if we hooked a King. (Since then, telemetry has shown salmon to cross the lake (40-some miles) on a direct bee-line.)
But a salmon wasn't needed. There was a strong south wind, and we planned to stay inside the lee of the lake's south shoreline. But, the browns moved out, and then, the motor didn't start, and we began to skate like a cork out to sea (This was not the first time a little Sears motor had tried to kill me; The first was the only time I was picked up by the Coast Guard. I was 12).
Tim pulled and pulled, more and more frantically, on that cord, and land got farther and farther away. It was the first time I'd thought about the 42F water all around us no PFDs of course. Tim put a foot up to kneel into it, and he gouged a big biker boot onto a valve, and air started to hiss at an alarming rate. FIND THAT VALVE!!, I yelled. And Tim found it. But the boat sagged and the motor was tilting over on its mount. Tim then began to babble and then giggle in a weird sort of way. I said, Tim, pull it together, grab that paddle and don't stop. Don't think, just paddle. We dug and dug and dug and it seemed as though we were not able to beat the wind. Those cheap flimsy plastic paddles would curl away from our work and we'd have to flip them over every now and again, but eventually we started making ground, got into the lee again, and then were lying flat on the beach feeling like we could just kiss Mother Earth. I think we actually may have; I have a recollection that sand never tasted so good on my lips and tongue. The next morning, when I woke, my arms were so sore I couldn't raise them more than a foot or so.
One more story, this one was not me. I worked in a large tackle shop and often fished before I came in to work. One morning I was double-hauling to pods of rainbows and little coho's from the rocks when a guy in a very small flat-bottomed jonboat left the little harbor. He had an electric trolling motor. I almost shouted, Are you stupid! But I knew I was equally stupid and knew he planned to hug the shore for a couple hours till the trout and salmon moved off with the rising sun.
The following day I heard the story in the shop. A guy in 10-foot jonboat and electric motor got line tangled in his prop and was located from a Coast Guard helicopter 15miles out at 1AM. That one still gives me chills.