My 2006 fishing trip with Bill Ryan

Sometimes you do things outside of your comfort zone, not only because you are
intrigued by the activity but the company that involves the person.

For me, one of such moments was a fishing trip with Bill Ryan, who writes a fishing
column primarily for two weekly newspapers for Napa Valley Publishing, in June
2006. The two publications are the St. Helena Star and Weekly Calistogan with the
parent newspaper being the Napa Valley Register (Napa, CA). Ryan is originally from
Rhode Island. His East Coast accent is noticeable.

In my ten years on the sports beat in St. Helena and Calistoga, I was grateful for Bill’s
contributions as a fishing columnist that also contributed fishing reports. I would be the
first to tell you that I’m not an avid outdoorsman. I have never hunted and have only
fished a few times. I have no problem with either activity but the clean up that comes
with it is more than I want to endure. I appreciated Bill’s contributions to my sports
sections because he could tell fishing stories and give expertise in that arena far better
than I could.

So one random Monday, I’m working on sports stories for each edition and Bill stops by
my office to submit photos for his column. Bill then asked me of I would like to go
fishing with him one day. Without even thinking about what I was getting into, I said
yes. I had only been fishing twice in my life and it was on a family trip to the Klamath
River, which is North of Yreka, CA, near the Oregon border. My parents have friends
that once owned a cabin in the small hamlet of Hamburg, CA. Shoutout Keith and Joan
Pieper. I had not gone fishing in 17 years, yet I said yes to a fishing trip with the great
Bill Ryan. I always enjoyed visiting with Bill whenever he frequented by the office so I
figured, why not spend a day with him in his element.

I knew that the trip would involve getting up before the crack of dawn. Considering that
I have never been one to sleep in late, I did not see that as an issue. I arrived at Bill’s
house at about 6 a.m. to embark on our trip to Clear Lake, which is about an hour and a
half drive but when you factor the windy roads, it feels more like three hours. On the
way to and from the lake, we enjoyed great conversation ranging from family to sports,
etc.

The trip on the lake from the docking point in Kelseyville, CA, was a day to behold. I
attained a greater appreciation for the work that involved a fishing trip including but
not limited to hitching and unhitching the boat into and out of the lake from the truck.
Once we got onto the lake, little did I realize that Bill was a “catch and release” guy. I
guess when you fish so often, you can only freeze or eat so much of it. I discovered
this when I reeled in a two-pound bass.

No sooner was Bill excited for me to catch a fish 17 years removed from my last fishing
excursion, he’s telling me to “throw it back!” Without thinking about what he said, I
abided. My first thought was, “it must be too small for the legal limit.” So 15 minutes
or so passes and I asked him if he throws back everything he catches. He then asked
me if I want to keep it. I replied, “Damn right, I didn’t wait 17 years to throw it back.”
We both chuckled. As I look back, I can understand the difference of a regular
fisherman using the “catch and release” approach versus someone who rarely fishes
wanting to bring one home.

I would get another chance later in the day as I reeled in another two-pound bass. Ryan
held up the net to bring the fish back into the boat. The fish was placed under the bench
seat in the boat and floated in water until we docked much later in the day.

One thing I discovered about fishermen that I did not know, they see water skiers as
an annoyance because of the waves they create making for a disturbance. I remember
one group with a skier that came within about 100 yards of us. Bill had a few choice
words for them that I can’t repeat in mixed company. In the meantime, I’m thinking to
myself, “Thank God they can’t hear us.”

As the day concluded, Bill pulled out a sawed off baseball bat and grovelled, “Take
that fish you caught and smack him over the head!” In the meantime, I’m thinking,
“Wouldn’t it be easier to put him in an empty bucket and let him die that way.” So I
did what the man said and smacked the fish.

When I got home I trying to clean the fish was an exercise in futility before I brought
it to my mother’s house and had her clean it. The day turned into an all-around victory
in the D’Adamo house because my wife (Jacqueline), who I have been married to for 15
years as of this writing discovered that she was pregnant with our first child. Nine
months later, we welcomed Juliette Scioneaux D’Adamo into the world and she will
be 12 years old in March 2019.

The day was a great experience because I developed an appreciation for what those
who go fishing regularly endure. It was also a great experience spending an entire day
with Bill because he is someone I consider to be a friend. Like most people, get him
into the confines of his hobby and he reveals a triggered side, and I mean that in the
most complimentary way possible. However, away from or within the confines of his
hobby, he’s a great man.

I think about this experience quite regularly.