By Pete Epps
It was a cold, crisp November day in 2018 that I met my fishing buddies at the Cohoke Club Inc. fishing club in King William County near West Point, VA. Established in 1900, the club has 50 active members, plus four honorary members.
Cohoke Lake is an 80-acre impoundment lake and is stocked with largemouth bass, brim, crappie, and several other freshwater species. My fishing partner for the day was Jay Bird. We had fished together many times, usually with great success. This time was no exception, because Jay was always good about putting us on fish. He knew the lake well and where the fish might be. Early that morning we loaded the Jon Boat and set out.
We had a very productive morning catching a number of 18- to 22-inch bass (all catch and release). We broke for lunch and rest and after a couple of hours, we hit the water for more fishing. By mid-afternoon the wind had picked up, which always makes fishing in a Jon Boat a challenge. Afternoon fishing was not as successful, but we plodded on.
Just before dusk, as we were heading in, we decided to fish the shoreline for one more fish. By now the wind was making casting more difficult. I could not cast my lure where I wanted it. I tried again and again. On my last cast a big gust of wind grabbed my Lucky Craft lure and flung it into a tree.
“Crap, my Lucky Craft is hung into a tree,” I complained.
Getting it out was now a big challenge. At this point, Jay maneuvers the boat closer to the tree about 10 feet offshore. I stood up in the boat to untangle the mess over my head when suddenly the boat moves. I lost my balance and flipped backwards head over heels into the water. (Sploosh!)
Under water, my first thought was don’t panic as I wore heavy clothes. I can’t remember touching bottom. Anyway, I popped right back up. At that point I grabbed the side of the boat, was able to move to the other side of the boat near shore where I was able to roll into the boat without turning it over. Within a few minutes hypothermia was setting in. I called to Jay to get me in and within five minutes we were at the dock. I stumbled out of the boat and hustled up to the cabin where I quickly shed all my wet clothes, watch and cell phone. Then I jumped into a hot shower, feeling that it all could have been worse. Believe it or not, the cell phone still worked.
To commemorate the event, one of my fishing buddies, “JR,” a cartoonist, drew a cartoon of it and my FRIENDS presented it to me for my birthday. To this day, I can’t understand why I am not allowed to stand up in the Jon Boat.
This story was originally published in “Our Neighborhood,” a quarterly publication that focused on the lives of RWC residents – one story at a time.
