“Set it!” Yelled Captain Brad.  “Set it Set It Set it,” he continued. 

Having absolutely no idea what Brad meant, I took a guess and started cranking the reel.  I felt awkward as I used my left hand to do the turning while some sea creature tried to pull the rod out of my grip.  My reel complained loudly with an odd whining noise and I thought I might lose control.

“Let him run!” Instructed one of the others aboard the boat. 

“Huh?” I replied. 

“Stop reeling!”  Explained another. 

I followed the order until the reel stopped complaining and heard my friend Ernie tell me to, “Pull up, crank down.” 

Trying not to look too stupid in front of my wife, friends and charter captain, I shrugged, smiled and started cranking again.  “No,” said Ernie, “Pull your rod tip up without turning the crank then turn the reel as you lower it again.”  Realizing that I had no way of escaping the truth that I had no idea what I was doing, I dutifully followed the instructions provided by my cohorts.  I raised the tip, I cranked down, I let the fish run when the reel made its noise and, after about five more minutes, I was told to stop.  Captain Brad reached beside the boat and pulled a 32-inch cobia aboard.  This was the first fish I had caught in 25 years and by far the largest ever boated by me. 

“Can you keep these?”  I asked, having not yet learned the joys of catch and release. 

“Yes, but this one is too small.” Said Brad. 

“A 32 inch fish is too small?”  I wondered as my friend Tellis snapped a photo of me, Brad and my first cobia. 

Hours later, I would fight a five or six pound jack for about ten minutes before he would submit and come aboard the boat.  As we released this last fish of the day, I knew I had discovered a new passion.

Throughout the entire day, our little group caught quite a number of fish representing a wide array of species.  I couldn’t see any of our catch but I felt, heard, smelled and thoroughly enjoyed the entire eight hours.  Each sensation from the sound of the reel screaming to the feel of a fish hitting my bait to the warmth of the November sun on my face added to one of the best days of my life.  

That first daylong excursion gave me very high expectations of fishing in this part of Florida.  I must have caught a couple of dozen fish and I held the erroneous belief that this would be easy.  I now give a ton of credit to the charter captains for their deep level of knowledge and their ability to teach while also entertaining.

In the months since that day, Susan, Ernie and I have gone fishing on virtually every weekend.  I bought a rod and reel, a ton of lures and other fishing gear.  Susan and Ernie have taught me to tie all sorts of knots, put bait on a hook, cast my line and relax enough to fully enjoy this wonderful sport.

During this period, I have often been asked how a blind person can fish.  I usually answer (with some sarcasm), “With a rod!”  Seriously, though, there are some additional challenges that a blind or visually impaired person must overcome in order to participate in this great outdoor sport.  In future articles, I will focus on the solutions rather than discuss the frustrations.  My goal in writing these articles is to encourage other people with disabilities to get out and share in the joys of fishing.  If a klutz like me can learn to fish without vision, then I am sure that, no matter what your impairment, you can do so too. 

Acknowledgements 

Susan is my wife.  Ernie and Tellis are good friends.

Captain Brad Smither is a terrific fishing guide based in Tarpon Springs.  He has done an excellent job teaching this blind guy many things about fishing.  He can be reached at: (727) 243-3844.

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