Why You Should Fish

I started fishing at a very young age. The first fish I ever caught was a largemouth bass in Eagles Mere, Pennsylvania, where my grandparents had a lake house. I was about four years old and sitting in a canoe with my grandfather after what felt like hundreds of failed attempts. I remember being more excited than the fish probably deserved. Looking back, though, what I remember most isn’t the bass. It’s spending hours in that canoe with my grandfather. We talked about everything a four year old could possibly think of. I was a very talkative kid, so there was never a shortage of conversation.

That day taught me something I’ve noticed over and over again through the years: the best conversations happen on a boat. Most people think fishing is all about catching fish. That’s certainly part of it, but fishing forces you to slow down. There are no phones, no schedules, and no real distractions. You cast, wait, and talk.

Over the years, I’ve spent countless hours fishing with family and friends. Some days the fishing is great. Other days it’s terrible. Either way, the conversations always seem to be memorable. I’ve learned things about my parents that I probably never would have heard around the dinner table: stories about mistakes they made growing up, challenges they faced, and lessons they learned the hard way. When you’re sitting on a boat for hours, conversations tend to go deeper than they normally would.

The same thing happens with friends. A fishing trip can start with jokes and stories, but eventually the conversation shifts. You end up talking about sports, school, relationships, future plans, and whatever else is on your mind. Some of my closest friendships have been strengthened during long days on the water.

Fishing has also taught me how to listen. In everyday life, everyone seems to be moving from one thing to the next. On a boat, there isn’t much to do except pay attention. I’ve learned that listening is often more valuable than talking.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love catching fish. The excitement of a big strike never gets old. But years from now, I doubt I’ll remember every fish I’ve caught. I’ll remember being in a canoe with my grandfather in Eagles Mere. I’ll remember laughing with friends during long summer afternoons. I’ll remember the stories, the advice, and the conversations.

For me, that’s what fishing is really about.