Humble Fisherman

“As day light brought end to the darkness, there I was on a fog swept glass plain known only to civilians as the “hole.” Weaker men had turned around due to cold and adversity. Alas, I soldiered on knowing that I would prevail. I had just finished breaking the ice off of my trusty rod (eagle Eye Annie) when suddenly my kicker motor groaned under the load of the beast. 

I yelled to my hardy crew “stow the sheet, loose the motor,” as I dawned the fighting belt and secured my body in the chair. We nearly capsized thrice!! It was mid day before the first sighting of the fish. A lesser man would have yielded.

About supper time the fish, a great thespian, played possum and lead us to believe the landing would occur! The beast gave a great effort as the men threw harpoons and cursed him as he plunged to the depth.

Un-daunted I pressed on.  The first twinkle of twilight set forth as the beast tired. He knew then that he had met his match in Clifford Rastifus Lance M.D.  I steadily muscled him in the net . The crew ,ever trusting and battle hardened, took three steely men to hoist the monster aboard.

A few swift bonks on the head ended the curse of the Lake Beast once and for all.


You might be thinking to yourself Cliff you’re a hero. Or Cliff, please can I have your autograph. But I am but a humble fisherman”

- Clifford Lance, MD