Cap'n Mike and his Understudy

Caution: To help you identify the not-so-innocent, the names and locations mentioned in this story have not been altered in any way.

It was a brisk autumn day, the breeze was slight and out of the West. A perfect afternoon for two friends to go after the most feared fresh water fish on earth.

Mike was the most experienced of the two, but Cory had the boat. They had gone after the elusive Musky together before and Mike suspected the results of this trip would be the same - he catches Musky's - big mean Musky's - and Cory whines. They launched the vessel and headed out on their journey. Mike let Cory make the first call about where to fish, that's the least he could do. After all, to a guy like Cory the little things mean a lot.

Mike didn't agree with Cory's decision but decided to make the best of it. For the whole day was still ahead. They arrived at their spot and started fishing. Suddenly it happened. Just what Cory feared and Mike expected.

The terror.

The violence.

Mike hooked into what they hunted. Yes, it was a Musky-but only a 42-incher. Mike quickly unhooked the beast and returned it to its habitat. "Come on back when you're 50 inches," he said.

Cory was visibly shaken. "Don't worry Cory, everything is alright, it's gone, it can't hurt you."

But Cory was still shaking. Mike went over and placed his hand on Cory's shoulder, "Have a beer friend," he said. Cory did.

Just after things had returned to normal, it happened again! Only this time it was Cory! The fish attacked and Cory quickly pulled back on his rod. And then pointed the rod toward the water.

"Don't worry Cory, it happens to the best of us." Mike knew that wasn't the case. After all, it hadn't happened to him since he was four years old sitting on the edge of the dock with his old man. He sometimes shares those stories about how he used to fight the beasts with just his hands. If you ask him, he'll show you the scars. Mike however is wise beyond his years now. He knew how much his knowledge and experience meant to Cory, and his words also.

Cory responded in part by saying, "Really? Has it ever happened to you?"

Mike hesitated for a moment, and with a deep breath, as to prepare himself for a lie responded, "Yes, just last year I was..." Suddenly Mike slammed his rod back, the tip bent like a tree in a thunderstorm. Thrashing and splashing rang across the bow of the vessel. Cory dropped his jaw in awe of the magnificence unfolding before him. He was so astounded by the masterful display unfolding before him that he forgot to be frightened.

A short while into the battle, Mike brought the doomed beast toward the boat. Cory automatically backed up - partially out of fear, partially to give the master the needed room to do what he does best. The fish was incredible - a solid 52 inches! Cory had never seen anything so large and was rapidly being overtaken by fear. Mike sees something that big every morning in the shower so he was very calm and in control.

The beast turned and rammed the boat. No damage. Mike expertly maneuvered the fish to the starboard side of the vessel. He was tiring, but the fish was tiring more. Mike played that fish like no one I've ever seen - it was amazing! The fish rammed the boat again - this time puncturing a whole into the side of the boat. They were taking on water - and fast. The situation was now very different. Mike needed to get that monster in the boat. If not for him, for the safety of all people who would ever swim in that lake again, and for Cory.

He accelerated his actions and brought the fish to the boat against its will. The fish was not happy, but Mike was not about to be "handled" by a fish - after all, Mike knows that if he ever loses control - even for just a minute - fisherman all over the land will change their habits, and lose confidence in their own abilities. There is a tremendous responsibility that comes along with being Mike, and he handles it well.

He boated the monster, held it up for a picture (he had to place the camera on the seat and use the timer since Cory was cowering in the bottom of the boat with soiled pants) and released it. Mike won, again. The fish lost. No one would ever again be bothered by the newly humbled lunker of the lake.

The two friends headed into shore. The bilge pump working overtime, they made to the dock with not a moment to spare. Cory changed his trousers, Mike tried not to chuckle. The two headed off to get a drink.