by Dylan Price
Dorchester Academy

Ever since I was a little kid, my dad has always taken me fishing. Fishing has been a
hobby for the both of us. The first fish I ever caught was a redbreast in the backwaters of Four Hole Swamp in a little jon boat that my dad owns. Since that moment, I have been addicted to fishing all around the South Carolina backwaters. I have been almost everywhere in the Lowcountry to fish, from Santee-Cooper to the blackwaters of the Edisto River. Recently, my
friends and I have had wonderful experiences at a privately owned pond in Bowman, South
Carolina. I have also fished the ripping currents of the Saluda and the Broad Rivers. My favorite
spot to fish is a local private pond on the outskirts of the town I live in, Dorchester, South
Carolina. I love every moment of fishing with my dad, but there is one moment that stands out
from the rest.

In September 2015, I was around twelve years old. My dad had just purchased my first bait-casting rod and reel combo for my birthday. I was so anxious to fish with it. Dad let me buy
a couple of new lures also. I was extremely excited to pack up all of my new gear and hit the
water. There was only one thing standing in my way, football practice. I got all of my things ready for when I got back from practice. During the entire practice, I was constantly thinking
about the beautiful green cypress trees this pond had. I had imagined catching at least twenty largemouth bass. Practice finally ended, and I ran to my dad’s truck, so he could take me home
and I could get all of my gear. I was so excited that I even forgot to take my phone with me. Once we arrived at the pond, I stood by the dock just staring at the beautiful green cypress trees. As I was looking at the trees, my dad noticed a white-tailed deer walking around the bank of the pond. The combination of the trees, the water, and the wildlife were all amazing. The weather was perfect: sunny and about seventy-five degrees. It felt like the perfect day to catch a fish.

The moment had finally come. I took my first cast. I was fishing with what is commonly known as a green-pumpkin senko. I let the senko sink to the bottom and slowly reeled it up. Then, I felt the first bite of the trip on the first cast. I set the hook hard and was hooked on a South Carolina giant. I fought the fish for about fifteen seconds, and then my brand-new fishing line snapped. Of course, I was very sad and distraught. My dad told me to just try again. So I did. I tied on the same lure and kept fishing with it. As the day grew longer, I had not received a bite since the first cast. I walked around the entire pond, casting through cypress trees and limbs left and right. Walking around cypress knees is difficult. My dad sat on the dock laughing at my struggles. I always asked why he never “fished hard.” He would always tell me that it wasn’t about fishing; instead, it was about being out in the woods to appreciate mother nature and her beauty. Even though I had not caught a fish yet, I still enjoyed my time out in the wildlife. Fishing with the sun setting is the most beautiful thing anyone could experience. The reddish-purple tint the sun had on the water and clouds was immaculate.

My time was growing shorter. The sun is setting and the moon is beginning to be relevant. But I was not giving up. Cast after cast, I still have not received a bite. I decided to try one last lure. The lure was a swimbait that was imitating a bluegill. Bluegills were the main forge for this pond so I’d figured it would work. I cast the lure from the old worn-out dock near a cypress tree and started to reel. At that moment, I felt a slight thump. I set the hook hard, but nothing was there. My dad was making fun of me because he thought I hit a log, but I knew in my heart it was a fish. It was basically dark at this point, but I wanted one more cast. I reeled the lure up and cast in the same direction one last time. I began to reel, and all of a sudden there was a fish on. I could tell it was a big one. I fought it all the way to the dock, and my dad pulled it up. It was a monster largemouth bass! I was so excited that I had finally caught one.

Once I caught the fish, I held it up and looked into its mouth. There, in its mouth, was the same hook that I had tied on the first time! It was the same fish that snapped my line on the first cast! My dad and I were jumping in excitement. We finally calmed down and weighed the bass. It was eight pounds even. To this day, that is the biggest bass I have caught.

I truly cherish moments like these with my dad. It could not have happened in a better place. I still go out to that pond with my dad, and it is just as beautiful as it was that special day.