Had a few hours this afternoon, so I headed to the river. Pulled up at a creek where I've been catching them lately, and saw the water churning with schooling bass and striper that were feeding on herring. First cast, keeper. Second cast, four and a half pounder. Third cast, striper. Fourth cast, striper. Fifth cast, dink. Fished for a couple of minutes without a bite, then tossed out a big rat-l-trap to wake them back up. It worked. First pump I had one load up on it. Keeper.
That's where the fun ended....
As I was trying to pop the hook out quickly, so I could get my bait back in the middle of the school, the bass flopped on me, and sank a big old treble deep in my thumb and under the nail. I secured the fish to keep it from flailing around and reminding me how to cuss. Next, I had me a good, long, thinking session. The hook, lure, bass, rod, and reel were connected to my right thumb... and I'm right handed. I decided that the most important thing to do was not let the fish move at any cost. So, I pinned her down between my shin and the boat deck hard enough to make her pass gas (sorry PETA). Then, I grabbed my needle nose and started to fumble around with the hook in the fish's mouth. Thankfully, it popped right out. I was a little jealous of him. And, just so you bleeding hearts can sleep well tonight, I released him, and he swam off just fine, with a cool story to tell his friends. Next, I cut my line so to remove another few obstacles. Then, with my not so useful left hand, I tried about 487 different angles to cut the ring off the lure before I finally found one that worked. Now, it was just me, a big old treble hook, and my chocolate lab, who had been watching the who escapade. I've had to remove numerous hooks before, but this one was at an odd angle, and when I tried to push it through, kept hitting something hard. (Bone, that is).
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the fish were so active because we had a little weather moving in. This weather was a fairly large thunder storm that came up quick, about the time the hook was digging into my flesh. While I was trying to get free, my phone was blowing up, with my wife and friends letting me know that the storm was coming. The rainwater standing in my boat, and the lighting popping around me let me know about the storm too. But, being free, I finally had a chance to let my wife know I was on the way home (using my best "nothing's wrong" voice). Then, I called a buddy who lives close to the ramp, told him the deal, so he met me to help load the boat and get the hook out. Everybody needs a buddy like that! However, after one look, he said, "Dude, you're going to the ER."
I did. Numbing medicine is my friend. Hook's out!
Worst part of the whole ordeal: On the ride home from the ER, I was talking to my buddy on the phone, and told him about the big school. He asked, and of course, I agreed to meet him at six tomorrow morning to go get them. But, my wife overheard that conversation, and now I can't go fishing....