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TRAILER


Fishin' In The Rain I


WHY ENDURING WET WEATHER MEANS MORE TIME ON THE WATER


was at a fish camp once, sitting at the dinner table telling lies, when an- other angler mentioned fishing in the rain. Some people shook their


heads and said they’d never really done it. A few said they’d done it once or twice. Most thought it was plain stupid. When I said I fished in the rain all the time, heads turned my way. “Why


wouldn’t you just wait until it gets nicer out?” one fisherman asked. “What if it doesn’t?” I replied. Silence. I told them a story about the time I got caught in a storm on the flats. I


had been sitting on anchor waiting for the tide to change when I saw rain barreling towards me. It was moving too fast for me to even grab a paddle, let alone head to shore, so I just zipped up my jacket and held on. When the storm hit, it sounded like a freight train. My kayak drifted


off anchor, my sandwich turned to soup and the rain kept pounding. I watched as power boaters huddled together and put-putted back to the dock. I checked my watch, the tide started to turn and still the rain was pounding. I caught more fish that day than I had all summer in that exact same


82…KAYAK ANGLER


hole. Why would I stop fishing when the bite is hot, even if the weather’s not? The brim of my hat turned from damp, to soaked, to downright sog- gy, but the fish kept biting as the rain pounded on. I was smiling like a kid eating dirt. The way I see it, learning to love fishing in the rain opens up more time


on the water. I dared my dinner mates to sit tight the next time they see the rains rolling in. Take a swig of coffee, zip up your jacket a little tighter and fish harder; you never know what kind of fish that storm may be pushing in. Taking a moment to butter a roll, I noticed everyone’s eyes around the


dinner table were now on me. They skipped over the important parts of my story, the parts about the fish, and keyed in on the train-like rain. “Rain can’t sound like a train,” said one naysayer. “You don’t have to take my word,” I said, “I have an extra kayak and rain


coat, you can hear it for yourself.” Mr. Disbelief swirled the bourbon in his glass and listened to the ice


clink, echoing across the table. “I’ll bring the coffee.” Ben Duchesney is the web editor for Kayakanglermag.com.


ILLUSTRATION: LORENZO DEL BIANCO


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