Do you remember your first time? I'm not sure if I remember the actual event anymore, or just the stories surrounding it. I have an old faded black and white photo to help. But with time the memory is getting grayer than the photograph. That's okay, I have many more pleasant memories of my childhood, and most of them revolve around the outdoors and fishing.

We didn't have a lot of money back in those days. Growing up in Central Florida in the scrub oak area around Ocala, most free time was spent in pursuit of finned creatures that inhabited the local waters. Most weekends found us camping on the Gulf of Mexico near Crystal River in a little hamlet that I'm not sure exists anymore except in the deepest recesses of my mind. Gathering Shrimp at night, fishing for Speckled Trout during the day, and gathering oysters in between was the routine most of the time. I never knew what a "rod n reel" was until I was about eight years old, I just thought everyone used cane poles like we did. Imagine my amazement the first time I saw one, and the well-stocked tackle box the gentleman had to boot! These were the events in my childhood that would determine in a big way the direction my life would take as an adult.

Another memory I can recall as vividly as the day it happened is of my class trip to Silver Springs, home of the glass bottom boats. I remember watching through the bottom of the boat as schools of huge Bass swam beneath us slurping dough balls that were dropped overboard by the tour guide. There was even one giant Catfish that engulfed a doughball made from an entire loaf of bread in one bite!

Fast forward twenty years, and I have another memory of a little girl, not quite two, bundled up against the howling wind, and blowing snow just so she could go ice fishing with da-dee. She doesn't remember catching a small Perch to become the youngest contestant in the ice-fishing derby that year, but I do. I have another memory of her brother going ice fishing for the first time with one of my co-workers, and I. Come to think of it the wind was howling again that day, but tucked inside the protective warmth of his shanty my son had the time of his life playing with minnows, and the few small Perch we did manage to catch that day.

My daughter is now a teenager, and doesn't like to go fishing with dad anymore. "I'm sorry dad it's just not my thing," she says, but that's ok. At least she was introduced to the sport so that she could make up her own mind. On the other hand my son is a fishing fanatic, and would just as soon go fishing as anything else in this world (he's only 10). If the boat leaves the yard, and he's not along for the ride, I'm wrong, plain and simple. He has developed a passion for fishing that might have rivaled mine when I was his age. Sometimes he is allowed to accompany me when I'm pre-fishing for a tournament, and those are more memories that are being made. I love my children equally, whether they choose to live the fishing life style or not. The important thing is that they at least had the chance to experience it firsthand. Some children never do, nor will they ever unless we take the time to show them the way.

The future of our fisheries begins today with the children that will one day make the decisions for our country. If a child has never had the chance to experience firsthand the thrill of seeing their bobber disappear under the surface, or the sound of the drag screaming out it's reluctance to yield line to a heavy fish, how can we expect them to manage our resources effectively in the future? Taking time out of our busy schedules to introduce kids to fishing will benefit all of us now, and in the future. Please, make an investment in some child's life, and we'll all be glad you did!