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Walleye

I knowingly drew the paddle back, curled it, and reaching forward dug another pull to bring us closer. My Dad was in the back of the canoe and we were both working hard to get the canoe back up the Kawishiwi river to our cabin and the get-together that was the rest of our large fanily group camping out. The nice comfortable cabin. It was late afternoon and a beautiful day in Northern Minnesota on the Boundary Waters. We hadn't caught a thing or had a bite, and this was my first time in the northwaters about all those stories I had heard before.

I didn't know it then but the surprising periods of sleep/naps my Dad had been uncharacteristically needing and taking were the first indications of an illness he would die very shortly from. His last trip.

His Dad had always brought him up here and this was his last trip and he probably knew it though like Dad he didn't let on to any of us. For all intents it was my last trip as well and I had no idea.

I stared down into the brown clear water and marvelled at the red tint the iron gave the river. Up ahead looked like a likely spot to finally catch one of those walleyes. The sun had been hot all day but it was getting closer to evening and daylight wouldn't be around forever. We were both tired but this was one of the last good spots we had a chance to fish before needing to just head straight back.

It had been 4 days and my Dad still hadn't caught a walleye. It was just about time to head back to the city. Dad was always the huntsman in his early life and I know this shutout bothered him. I had been paddling through the periodic occurring rapids for him while he cast his line hoping for a bite. There wasn't any pretense of going for muskellunge or pike. My dad baited up another leech as I steadied the canoe in the rapids..

We got to the middle of the rapids area and I managed to hold the canoe in position as my Dad cast his line. There weren't any words exchanged and they weren't needed. I looked over my shoulder at my Dad.

"I think I had a bite!"…..

I steadied the canoe as carefully as I could to get it perfectly stationary in the rapids.

"Again! Another bite! We found some!"…

I hoped the bites were from a school of walleye. Then we could catch several maybe if everything went good…

"I got one!", my Dad shouted. His pole bent over and began pulsating back and forth towards the water. His line was tight and I could hear the drag. Thirty seconds later it was all over and the line went limp and he reeled in the empty hook.

Quickly he reached into the bait jar and rigged another leech faster than I had ever seen anyone before. Twenty seconds later he was launching his cast back into the same

I turned the canoe and gave my Dad a good angle into the rapids pool. Ten seconds later,

"Another one! I got another one!"…

We had found a school! How lucky could we get…The pole pulsated and my Dad fought the walleye and a minute later he lifted a large walleye into the canoe.

As the walleye flipped around in the bottom of our little canoe, I can never forget how happy my Dad looked just then. He had gotten all he had ever wanted in one brief instant it seemed. He was a kid. Only one time I'd seen Dad as excited and that was in Oklahoma (he shot a chickenhawk out of the clear blue sky in one shot).

"It's a big one Dad!", I shouted as I watched him wrestle it down.

"Yea, a real nice one!", my Dad said as he excitedly grabbed it while looking for a stringer. He had a smile on his face a mile wide… I can only cry when I think about it now.

Epilogue

The winds had died down and we paddled back to the cabin. The Kawishiwi had turned into Lake One and we were almost back. My Dad would bound out of the canoe with the walleye and the whole family would be there. The next day before leaving we had a fish fry and cooked up the walleye and everybody let Dad take his pick first.

Probably the first time in a long time he had gotten to go first….