Child’s Play

Is this the year you get your offspring on the ice?    Each season I try and take youth on the ice who have either never been ice fishing, or don’t have an outlet to go.  I don’t worry about broken lines or lost lures. I do however keep initial forays close to home and take along lots of extra gear in case they get wet feet by stepping into a hole.  It happens, but what’s important is for them to know that winter fishing can be just as much fun, if not more fun than fishing in the summer.  Ice fishing is my opportunity to teach kids how the lantern works, how to change a propane cylinder on a stove, how simple cooking can be, how to set up so the wind isn’t a problem.  There are so many lessons a child can learn on the ice that will carry over to open water fishing, camping and hunting, that there’s no excuse for leaving them at home.

There’s no doubt in my mind that a seven year old isn’t going to be able to use the auger to successfully drill through the ice, but I’m not going to deny them the opportunity to succeed.  I’ll start the hole so the blades aren’t a safety threat, then I’ll encourage them to give it a shot and I’ll step back and enjoy the show. They appreciate the fact that you got them out, introduced them to a world they previously didn’t know, and let them try something new. Each trip is another layer, and surprisingly they retain most of what you presented to them on previous trips.  How do I know these things? Suffice it to say I was trained well by my daughters on their very first ice fishing trip.

The final leg home was a white-line haze, one of those fifty-mile stints when you can’t remember how you’d gotten to where you are, because you’re fatigued and after so many hours behind the wheel, each tree or billboard appears the same as the last several hundred you’ve seen along the interstate.  The good news was that tomorrow was the beginning of a long weekend, and I planned to have my derriere planted firmly on a plastic five-gallon bucket in the ice shanty. 

Previous trips, from first-ice to the present had been spectacular.  The crappie, gills and perch had played, “I want it.”

“No, I want it.”

“Me first!” From dusk until dark on each trip, and they’d been voracious, not a light-biter in the crowd.  It doesn’t take long to fill up a bucket when hand sized, yellow breasted gills, wide-mouthed, shimmering, green-blue crappies, and the plump, tiger striped perch put on the feed bag. I was pumped.

I parked the pick-up, got out and stretched, and almost made it through the front door of the house, before my three and four year old daughters pushed me back outside, and did their best to knock me over the porch rail, as they smothered me with hugs and kisses.  God bless little girls~ “Guess what we had for dinner last night daddy?” Said Sarah, my youngest.

“I don’t know hon, what?”

“Fish!” Exclaimed Krista.  “Mom got fillets from the freezer and she cooked ‘em for us.”

What!  My secret stash of fillets had been exhumed from the bottom of the freezer and devoured.  The nerve~ But looking at the proud, glowing grins on their faces, who cares.  Picking up the girls and walking through the door sideways with one on each hip, I could still smell the faint delicious aroma of the fillets from the evening before.  Whine~

Later that evening I began calling around to my friends, looking for a partner for early the next morning, but they either had previous commitments, or they weren’t home.  What to do?  I don’t mind fishing by myself, I never have, it’s a great time for introspection, and the serenity one feels when cloaked in a blanket of silence, with the hiss of the heater and the glare of the lantern for company, well that’s hard to duplicate.  “One more call, and if I can’t find somebody, I guess I’ll just go alone,” I thought to myself as I dialed Kenny’s number and got his fiancé on the line. “Hey Barb, Mike here, I was planning on heading up to the lake tomorrow to do some ice fishing, and was wondering what Kenny was up to going with me?  Oh, he’s working…okay; well tell him I called please.  Thanks.”

I hadn’t even hung up the phone yet, when both girls were standing in front of me in their footy-pajamas, with their big sets of green and blue eyes staring into mine, when Krista said, “Dad you asked everybody to go ice-fishing with you tomorrow, but us.” I think at that precise moment I must have resembled a carp lying on the bank, mouth agape, gasping for breath, as I searched for excuses that would be palatable to a three and four year old.  I looked across the living room to my wife for help, but she pulled that nasty, mother-wife trick of putting a half-smile on her face, and then turned her head to stare up at the ceiling in that womanesque, the sisterhood comes first, non-committal pose. 

Nothing immediately came to mind, other than the fact they’d never been on the ice before.  They had snowsuits, gloves, mittens, felt-pack boots, toques, and everything else one needs to go ice fishing, except the experience itself. The silence continued as I searched for more reasons, okay just one reason that they couldn’t go…bathroom facilities~ Well they can use one of the extra five gallon buckets if they need too, I can take toilet paper, they’re not that shy, and they can use the shanty while I fish outside, that way they’ll be warm.  Food, well I can pack along a gallon jug of water for hot chocolate, we can take instant soup and sandwiches for lunch, and snacks and we’ll hit the mini-mart on the way out when I get my morning coffee. The more mental excuses I tried to conjure, the greater the number of solutions I came up with. Mouth tight, my eyes flicking back and forth from one daughter to the other, I took a deep breath and capitulated, “Okay girls, you can go.” I knew little girls could squeal, but the decibel level they attained at that moment would make a jet engine hang its fins in shame, it’s a wonder every glass object in the house hadn’t shattered.  I was now legally deaf~ 

The next morning was one of those crispy winter days when the snow squeaks with each footstep, and the girls could hardly wait to begin their first ice-fishing experience. Every outdoor outing to a child is an adventure, especially when they’re challenged with accomplishing certain tasks in preparation for the event.  Scaling down “kid size” participation efforts can sometimes be a challenge, especially when you’ve become used to either doing things yourself, or with adult help.  Their eagerness to begin this trip was evident in the energy they expended in making their own sandwiches, packing and organizing the rest of the food with mom’s help, and then venturing out to the garage to do their part in loading ice fishing gear.  Not once did they need to be asked to do something twice, instead after loading one item, it was followed up with, “What’s next.” Once we were loaded and ready to roll down the highway, they kissed mom goodbye, whereupon I heard the words I was to hear many times before future outings, “Don’t come home without them.”  Although they’d needed their snowsuits to help load the truck, they were quickly stripped down so they wouldn’t get overheated on the hour long drive to the lake.

Although I was filled with apprehension about taking them on the ice so young, in the same light, their eagerness to participate overrode any misgivings I might have had. As we pulled into the bait shop, they were handed the minnow bucket, and the empty snuff containers for the wax worms, and maggots.  As I stepped up to the counter with the minnow bucket, I slid two, clear plastic, snap lid containers in front of the girls, and let them pick out six ice-ants apiece; if they were going to take up this sport, they may as well begin to build their own ice fishing tackleboxes.  After fielding their questions about which colour and shape was best, and watching the faces of the other patrons in the store, I was proud of them, even though they hadn’t yet wet a line.

At the boat ramp they were once again willing participants in helping to unload the truck, and stacking the gear on the ice shanty for the trip out onto the lake.  Fortunately the channel runs right next to the shoreline, so we didn’t have to go more than 75 meters before I stopped and announced, “We’re here!” Once again my little helpers pitched in and helped to erect the shanty, whereupon I began the instruction of Ice-Fishing 101.  They were shown how sharp the blades on the auger were, and cautioned that if I ever forgot to put the cover back on after drilling holes, they were to immediately remind me. I showed them how the heater worked, and explained what it would do if it were running out of fuel, and how we’d remedy the situation. They were taught how to clean the shavings out of the hole, and why it was important, as I made a mental note to acquire another couple of ice scoops. After showing them how to operate the tiny reels on the ice rods, and what the spring bobber would do if a fish were to bite, they were almost set to begin fishing, but first they were given the opportunity to make their own decision regarding which type of bait they wanted to use first, along with each of them having a container of their own with maggots and wax worms. Fishing with children is no different than any other aspect of child rearing; each new step is accompanied by new questions.

Settled onto their buckets in the shanty with the heater blazing behind them, I was now able to attend setting up my own gear, but before I could grab a rod from the bucket, Krista announced with a yelp that she had a fish on. Frantic moments ensued as she tried to reel in the fish in the confines of the shanty, made doubly difficult with her sister’s head directly over the ice hole, looking down trying to see the fish.  Seconds later a chunky gill emerged to a squealing welcome from the girls.  As I removed the hook from Krista’s fish, Sarah too hooked into a fish, and the excitement began all over again.  Removing the hook from Sarah’s fish, I began to throw it on the ice with Krista’s, when she announced, “I want to let my fish go home.”  “What?  Don’t you want to take it home and eat it for dinner?” I asked her.

“Nope,” she said, tears filling her three-year old eyes, “his mommy will miss it.  I want to let it go home.” I didn’t argue, attempt to reason, or try to persuade her further, her reasons were her own.

“C’mon,” I told her, “come out here with me.  Do you want to release it yourself, or do you want me to let it go?”

Out of the shanty she came, and taking her fish from my hand with both of hers, she bent over and let it slide back into the depths.”  Catch and release is a wonderful thing, especially when it comes naturally from a three year old~

Mid-morning came and went, and the ice was littered with freshly caught fish as I fired up the Coleman stove and began to fix hot chocolate, while they dug into cheese curls and apple slices, adorned with mitten fluff.  As I prepared something warm to drink, unprompted, they walked along the shoreline picking up litter off of the ice that other anglers had left behind, then brought it back to the shanty and put it into our garbage bag.

With the day having warmed, the girls decided they now wanted to fish outside with dad, so I backed the shanty off of their holes, and got them set up, using the shanty as a windbreak. The fish never let us down and they continued to bite throughout the entire day.  Other than her first fish, Sarah began adding her share of fish to the evening dinner. Despite repeated cautions to “Look before you step, Sarah managed to step into an ice hole, her leg going in all the way to her hip.  Snatching her from the ice I ran her to the truck, stripped her down and got her into dry clothes we’d packed along “just in case.” It was at this point their first outing ended.

As I drifted off that night remember the sights and sounds of the day, I came to several realizations that my children, and now other children have benefited from.  First, going to second hand stores helps to defray the cost of additional snow suits, sweaters, and extra pairs of insulated shoes that are so necessary if like Sarah did, your offspring step into an ice hole.  It’s far easier to do on bare ice, then it is with snow on the ice, and if you’re planning on introducing your offspring to this great winter sport, pack along extra clothing that first trip, and keep adding to your extra gear supplies.  Does the extra clothing have to fit properly?  No, there are only two criteria the extra clothing and boots have to fulfill, and that’s warm, and dry.

Take the time to teach and not fuss.  Fussing only frustrates them, and decreases their enjoyment of spending quality time with you, and that’s precisely what they want to do. They want to do fun things with mom or dad, and take on adult responsibilities, no matter that it’s literally accomplished in baby steps.

Scale down the gear, if possible, let them handle a small spinning reel or one of those small plastic ice fishing rods while riding to the lake.  If they are allowed to figure things out on the ride with simple instructions, the less likely they are to mishandle the equipment while on the ice.  If they get bored on the ice, spend time doing whatever it is “they” want to do, so long as it’s a safe activity, and the next time you take them out you’ll find that their “fishing attention span” has increased substantially.

I’ll reiterate, don’t fuss or yell or scream, unless it’s a safety issue and their action needs to be halted immediately so someone doesn’t get hurt.  Take the time to explain things again and again, reinforce it and they’ll eventually get it.  Trust me, you were no “trip to the beach” (unless it was Omaha, or Juno) when you were a rugrat and someone first took you fishing.  Mentor them, and I promise you you’ll have a fishing partner for life.

Introduce other youth to ice fishing by taking along some of their friends. Unlike adults, kids aren’t going to fish for eight hour straight without wanting some sort of distraction. On a recent outing with several young boys ranging in age from six to ten, they gave it an honest effort for three hours, and nobody had had so much as a nibble.  The kids got bored and wanted to know if they could wander around a bit. We got together and talked about what was safe and what wasn’t; we discussed limitations, and I sent them on their merry way exploring the shoreline.  It wasn’t long before they were having a snowball fight, and that progressed into throwing waving around cattails until they burst.  They had a ball for thirty minutes burning off excess energy, and soon returned to fish some more.  What a sight, but what fun they had. None of us caught fish, but it’s an adventure they’ll never forget.  Will they go again?  They already have, and the next trip made up for getting skunked as many of them connected with smallmouth and walleye adults would be envious of, and for some of them, it was the first fish they’d ever caught.

Give them small tasks to do and they’ll respond with enthusiasm. No, sometimes they won’t be able to accomplish the task by themselves. They will soon forget the initial failure, but what they won’t ever forget is that you stopped what you were doing and let them try something new.  They will realize for themselves that the task is impossible, they don’t need you to tell them, “You won’t be able to do that,” instead let them try and come to their own knowledge.  Soon they’ll get the hang of it and be able to make it happen, and on that day their smile will be like that of a lighthouse guiding ships to safe harbor. Today my girls are in their thirties, and they have forged new links in that family fishing fun chain with their own kids.

If you take the time to show kids how a stove or lantern works, in a couple of years they’ll be proficient at the task, and suddenly you won’t have to cook or fix hot chocolate, or hot soup for them, they’ll be doing it for you.  Mine were seven and eight when they were able to send meals out the shanty door to me and any adult partners I had along on a winter fishing foray, and it only got better with time. 

Due to the fact that they live in the states, and I’ve migrated to Canada, I’ve found a host of other children that have never been ice fishing but want to learn.  I accommodate new kids on an annual basis, and cherish each outdoor outing, and take the time to chronicle these outings in photos not only myself, but far more importantly, for them and their parents.  Another rewarding part of these outing is making contact with the local newspaper and sending them the photos, and then the child discovering him/herself in the newspaper.  Can you spell “THRILLED?”

Take a kid ice fishing this winter that has never been on the ice, and remember: The echo of a child’s laugher in the outdoors falls upon God’s ears, making Him smile~

Mike Stewart

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Tags: auger, catch and release, crappie, fish, fishing partner, gills, ice, ice fishing, ice scoop, maggots, mentor, minnow, perch, spring bobber, wax worms