The river’s cool water swirled around the young boy’s legs as he slowly inched his way upstream, hoping to get within casting distance of the beautiful rainbow trout feeding in the gentle current. Next to the boy was his grandfather, carefully watching, guiding, and encouraging him as they drew nearer to the prize. Roughly 20 feet away, the boy began stripping line from the battered fly rod and made his first false casts toward the fish, clearly visible in the late afternoon sunlight. The homemade fly landed lightly on the surface four feet upstream from the trout and began its drift, twisting and turning as a natural insect would.
Magically, the boy watched as the trout rose to inhale the fly, and the battle was on. “You’ve got him, son,” the grandpa said calmly. “Don’t horse him. He’s a beauty.”
Less than a minute later, the rainbow trout was scooped up in the net and smiles graced the faces of both fishermen, one young and the other quite old. At the time, there were no smartphones with fancy cameras to capture the moment. But the human mind has a way of storing away important images for a long time. In this case, that image has lasted for six decades. You see, I was that boy, and standing by my side was my beloved Grandpa Henry.
Since that time, I’ve been blessed to fish for many species in different parts of the world. Dorado in Hawaii, cutthroat trout in the mountains of Colorado, halibut in Alaska, tarpon in Puerto Rico, barramundi in Australia, and more. My fishing companions have ranged from professional guides to good friends. One of my favorites was my daughter, Jeni, who inherited her great-grandfather’s love for the sport.
Over the years, I have learned that fishing is more than the pursuit of a trophy—much more. One of the greatest benefits of fishing is the natural environment in which it takes place. Whether river, lake, or ocean, the amount of life in the water is astounding. The incredibly diverse aquatic life; the flying birds; and the sights, smells, and sounds combine to simultaneously thrill and calm the senses, especially for those of us who have spent too much time being bombarded by car horns, ringing phones, text tones, and demanding television.
There’s another profound benefit from fishing that is all too rare in today’s hectic world: fellowship. While some prefer to fish alone, many find family and friends that share in the joys of the pursuit. Fishing with friends leads to laughs when things go wrong, celebration when things go right, and quiet moments of connecting souls together—souls that are often starved for something deeper than just a quick cup of coffee or drink at the end of the day.
Perhaps the best part of fishing is that it has a way of connecting generations in deep and profound ways. It has a mystifying power strong enough to cause young people to put down their phones, get off social media, and focus on something real for more than a few minutes. Even an afternoon fishing trip teaches important life lessons of planning, execution, patience, celebration, and more.
Last summer, I had the pleasure of introducing my 6-year-old grandson, Zeke, to fishing. Standing at the edge of the water, I taught him how to cast and then stood by as he tried and failed, tried and failed, and then tried and succeeded. When the trout hit his lure, I heard a voice from the past saying:
“You’ve got him, son.”
“Don’t horse him.”
“He’s a beauty.”
Once the trout was safely in hand, Zeke looked up with innocent eyes and smiled. “Grandpa, that was awesome! Can we catch another?” My great hope is that one day, Zeke will stand next to his grandson or granddaughter and watch as fishing becomes an important part of another generation.
Brian D. Molitor has been married for 37 years, with four children and five grandchildren. He is CEO of Molitor International, an award-winning consultancy. Brian is also a filmmaker, author, and avid outdoorsman.
