We sportsmen are reminded of our responsibility to “take a child fishing.” You get the idea: A kid out in the middle of "nature" in your boat isn’t on a street corner huffing drugs, and that's a better place to be, right?
But what if it's rainy and cold, the water's rough, nothing's biting and the wee one is bored and its feet are wet? Not so good for moral development and growing bones, then, is it? And, there are well-meaning adult slobs who are poor fishermen. What's a child going to learn, more bad words, how to open beers? It might grow up to be a politician.
Take an old guy in your boat instead. They’re set in their ways, happy they haven’t fallen and broken a hip in the boat, grateful for a soft seat cushion. If you agree to pick him up on the way to the boat ramp at an early hour, he’ll be waiting, and invite you in for a quick cup of coffee and maybe a freshly baked biscuit with homemade jelly. (That actually happened to me once.) They’ll have their gear…rain jacket, hat, possibly a bag of excellent sandwiches and pickles to go with your cans of Vienna Sausages. Smart ones will have a large-mouth container of some sort to pee in, so they don’t have to stand and dribble on the boat’s side. (A young boy will have fun peeing ten feet out in the water, aiming at floating objects, a savage reminder of the host's advancing age and loss of compression.)
To take a kid you’ve gotta ring the bell, wake up the Mom and a few neighbors, then wait while the wee lad is shaken awake, given some feed and a hat, which Mom will have to scrounge around for while you watch Breaking News and the sunrise. (You’ve got sun lotion and a rain jacket for him, right?)
When you arrive at the dock, even a very old adult will offer to help you gather gear from your SUV. A kid wants to carry the flashlight to turn on and off. He’ll be busy looking at his Smart Phone, texting as he’s walking to the car, flashing the light.
Rarely will a geezer jump aboard your boat with sand on his shoes and fiddle with your GPS. He’ll know it’s not a “game,” and will wipe his shoes and accept a friendly hand getting on board. He will not scamper around the boat and kick over the bait bucket or leap up on the gunwales unexpectedly, nor will he/she ask a million dumb questions, or eat the lunch sandwiches before you leave the dock.
The main skill learned by a lad ten years old is how to hold a fishing rod and a Smart Phone at the same time. If the fish don't bite right away the rod is the first to be put aside. It's best if the hosting adult goes along with this boredom solution. After all, simply continuing to fish despite any positive results does appear stupid to a smart kid.
If he gets bored an old guy cranks up his endless fishing lies. “Mighty fine eating, a walleye. I remember back in the late sixties when….” It’s harmless, expected. A kid, lacking experience, can’t really talk fishing, and noone wants to hear about his newest online game, so he’s forced to the sidelines when the stories start. Old-timers are like golfers who talk a ten handicap and play to a 30.
Kids get bored much faster than old-timers, and can be counted on to whine for the dock if things get slow before noon. The only antidote for extended whining and pouting is to give up and head for home. A sportsman host must remember that lectures about perseverance will be deeply discounted by the impressionable child, who remembers keenly the hosts description of the "really big ones" and "lots of action,"
Most people over sixty who will accept an invitation to go fishing have used a spinning rod or can master it after an hour of patient teaching. Many kids have never tried one, and might insist, as kids will do, that they “do better holding it this way,” upside down and reeling backwards. Adults don’t do that, except maybe millennials, and the urge almost never occurs to take them fishing.
Old guys rarely whine audibly. They will sigh and indicate pain vaguely, maybe clutching at their lower back, knowing, however, that they committed to this fishing day. The host owes them nothing. They’re stuck, which can be seen as a benefit when compared to a whining child.