A Leisurely Morning Float

Last evening, as Mary and I lazily floated on the neighborhood pond, watching the sun go down while comfortably suspended in twenty feet of water astride our colorful plastic foam noodles, I contemplated where I should fish the following morning. My go-to Haw was running high and muddy after heavy spring rains in the upper watershed, again, and I suspected other local waterways to be similarly challenged. I could try to squeeze in a quick trout trip, maybe the Smith, maybe Stone Mountain, but the thought of a day of driving just didn’t have much appeal. What to do?

So I floated, and I thought, floated and thought, floated and thought... until Mary finally stated the obvious. Fish here.

Over the years I have fished this eight acre pond a lot. Chock full of crappie, bream of all sorts, and largemouth bass, it’s a delightful fishery, but my recent infatuation with moving water and the long rod have carried me to other venues. And fly fishing the pond has its challenges as the shoreline is predominantly wooded, congested right down to the water’s edge. Casting angles are tight, where they exist at all. But what if I casted from inside out?


So this morning, before the sun began to peek over the trees, I took a cue from our evening leisure, dug out my float tube and a borrowed pair of swim fins, and headed down the hill. Fishing was as relaxing as our previous evening’s float and resulted in a half dozen largemouths, ranging between ten and fourteen inches in length. While not as feisty as the Haw’s muscular river bass, each fish gave me a proper scrap before being returned to their pond.


It was a delightful morning on the water, as laid back and casual as a fishing excursion could ever hope to be. And, in the end, a lesson was relearned - to appreciate what’s right under my noodle.

I wonder if a drink holder will fit on my tube.