Morning fishing has been very dull, and my spirits were down. I thought about how long we’ve been fishing, which was not very long. I could not remember any sign of life on the pond. No tugs on my line. No jumps of fish. Not even sunnies or bluegills along the shore. The lake was very serene, and to my conclusion fishing was over for today.
     

“Hey Nico, want to go back soon? I haven't gotten any bites,” Jordan shouts from the opposite side of the pond.
     “Yea sure, 15 more minutes?”
     “Yea, that should be good.”
   

 I walk to my bag and pick up my phone to text my Mom. We’ve only been fishing for an hour and fifteen minutes! I don’t want to leave, but I can’t argue with Jordan-- the fishing has been awful.
     

In the months prior, I began to have an interest in  fishing. Although my dad often went saltwater fishing when we owned a beach house, I never took interest. After my final exams, I went fishing for the first time. Nick, another Delbarton student, took me down the road to Sunrise Lake. Although excited, I was apprehensive because I had never been bass fishing. Nick proved himself to be adept by catching a small, lightly  green-toned bass as soon as we arrived. The fish was not large, but it was the first bass I had seen in person:I was in awe. Its white belly, slowly faded to a dark, emerald green. Thousands of scales lined the bass’s soft body. Nick griped the lip of the fish’s mouth as soon as it gets above the water.

     “Does it hurt to hold it in the mouth?” I asked curiously.
     “No, not really, do you want to hold it?”
     “No, I’m good,” I say as I shrug my shoulder, not wanting to show that I was grossed out by holding a fish.
     

Months later, fish continued to elude my line, but I kept trying, casting my line out repeatedly.
     

Vweee

Nothing seemed to be working as I haven't gotten any bites. I cut my line and switch to a jerkbait my friend had bought me for my birthday. Again, and again, I cast out my line just waiting for even the slightest nibble.

At the same time, I see the eyes of a large fish coming towards my jerkbait. “What is that, it's huge….. Oh my gosh, is it a bass?” I unsurely think to myself. I give the jerkbait one last tug to entice the fish. It falls for the trick… CHOMP. I set the hook, just barely piercing its upper lip. It fights hard, pulling some drag off of my reel. The reel makes a high pitched “VRRRR” sound. The most rewarding sound. I see the black beady eyes come from above the water.
   

 “IT’S A BASS!” I scream, struggling to haul it onto the shore. Jordan runs over with his phone ready to take a picture. I finally get it onto the land and it flops around like crazy, covering itself with dirt. This being my first bass,I had to use my gloves to handle it. Once I had got a hold of it from the mouth, even I was surprised at how heavy it was, and the fact that I was holding it by the mouth. I rinse the dirt off the bass in order to make it look presentable.
     

Little kids walking around the pond with their grandpa looked:

“Look at the fish he caught Grandpa!”
     

“Are you gonna put it back?”
     

It was a great feeling finally catching a bass after many hot, strenuous summer days on different ponds across New Jersey. I was thrilled to finally catch a bass, and find a hobby that I enjoy doing whenever I have free time. ll the time,and hard work I had put in finally payed off.