when they begin to battle. This one apparently wanted

when they begin to battle. This one apparently wanted to show his antagonist just what he was up against.

The fish made a couple of swirls at the top of the water and I could not believe what I saw. M.H. immediately started to yell to Charles and Robert in the other boat to hurry and get up close enough to see this fish before it got off, because he surely knew he would never get it in the boat. We were ill-prepared for a fish such as this.

In those days, many of us did not have a lot of what is now called disposable income. And for that particular brother, if he had had an excess of disposable income, he probably would have bought another carburetor for his hot rod Ford. What I’m trying to say is, the rod he was using should have been in some fishing museum years ago, and the old, black, braided line had long since seen its better days.

But, sometimes, the fishing gods smile on you. And so it was, when that fish finally came close enough to the boat, probably just to get a better look at us, his little brother, some 17 years his junior, and on his veiy first trip to the great north, deftly got the too-small net over the toobig head of that aquatic monster and deposited him neatly in the bottom of the boat. And no matter what else you believe, believe this: a big fish in the boat is a thing of joy forever.

That was 1970. Most men in those days were not given to what the young folks of today call PDA. For those uninitiated in the jargon, that’s “public displays of affection.” Nevertheless, I was quite certain my oldest brother was going to kiss me. Fortunately for me, he was satisfied with thanking me profusely for the rest of the trip, for getting the fish in the boat. You would have thought I had presented him with the keys to Fort Knox.

I still have the picture of the