‘Water is the elixir of life’
Local father, son bond over love of fishing, outdoors
OUTDOORS John Weiss
Contributed / John Weiss Andrew Pruett watches as his son, Theodore Pruett, casts for trout on the Whitewater River. Their joys and tribulations at fishing are part of a novella Andrew wrote.
“I t’s not about catching fish; it’s being on the water with family and having fun. Theodore had a blast … he was super excited to be fishing like Dad and he loved casting.” From Andrew Pruett’s novella “Water: The Elixir of Life.”
On the Whitewater River in late July, a novella came to life.
Andrew Pruett wrote “Water: The Elixir of Life” that prominently features the trials and joys of teaching his son, Theodore, then four years old, to fish. The boy is now nine, and the two fished the river on a hot July evening, hoping to bring home trout. I went along because I first read the novella when judging it for the We Are Water contest last spring and liked how Andrew thought about fishing, his son, nature and life.
The novella was one of the three top entries for the Rochester Public Library contest and were published recently in the book “Water Stories: A Memoir Anthology.”
The other two winners are Meleece Cheal Orme and Jan Wiersma. The book is available at the library and also online on its Overdrive digital collection.
The first half of the Pruett novella highlights Andrew’s grueling training to be a military survival instructor. All is connected with water, both in mild tropical seas and snow of a brutal Alaskan winter. I shuddered and cringed at what he went through but smiled and applauded when reading about his son.
On that July evening, the two first wet-waded the North Branch in Carley State Park because it’s smaller water and familiar. Theodore said they like trout because the family did research and found trout are low in mercury, a too-common water pollutant — his family obviously versed him in water quality.
“And they are, like, hard to catch,” he said.
“I think it’s more fun to catch things (that are) hard to catch.” In that, he sounded like his dad facing and enjoying the immense challenges in military training.
Theodore said he’d love to follow in his dad’s fishing footsteps “because he’s good at fishing and I love to fish and he is really good at knowing the river.”
Sure, his dad said he could catch more fish if he had been serious about fishing by himself, “but it wouldn’t be as much fun. I get so much joy out of seeing him catch something.”
Before they made their first cast, however, I saw trouble — the Whitewater was dirty. Fishing would be difficult, but not impossible. They went for it and through their trials, snags, falls and more snags, they laughed and loved it.
“He’s the best at getting snagged that I’ve ever seen,” said dad.
Getting lures hung up in trees, rocks and grass is a big part of the novella.
Both cast in-line spinners, Andrew with accuracy, Theodore with vigor. Vigor proved to be a problem. Dad kept coaching him on where to cast. “Perfect cast, kiddo, perfect cast,” he said when the lure flew true.
But at times, the spinner had a mind — and trajectory — of its own.
Like in the novella, dad retrieved the lures.
At first, they tried walking along shore but after a while, “we pretty much stay in the water,” dad said. I followed along, taking pictures, chuckling at dad’s patience.
Fishing was poor; I suggested the Middle Branch in Whitewater State Park might be clearer. To Whitewater park we went. The river was clearer.
Theodore began casting and it was just like it was at Carley — snags. “There are no tree fish,” his dad said. Theodore again tried to catch a tree trout.
Dad laughed.
I saw it so often — Theodore got his spinner tangled, Andrew untangled his son’s spinner or tied on a new one after breaking off.
Finally, I had to ask: How can you possibly be so patient? “From love,” Andrew said.
Again, the novella lived.
After untangling his son yet again, his son cast upstream into a riffle. Bang. Fish on. He reeled it in and gave it a big pull, sending the nice brown over his head.
“It’s a flying fish,” said a delighted dad.
“I thought I had a snag,” Theodore said.
“You did great,” dad said.
That was it for catching — one fish and a delighted dad.
“The only way to learn the language of nature is to experience it. Only then, will Mother Nature begin to reveal her secrets.” — From Pruett’s novella.
The evening of fishing was also a time to learn from nature, the other emphasis in the second half of “Water: The Elixir of Life.”
For Andrew, the two are one — fishing and nature watching, they do both, looking for rising fish, searching for birds, groundhogs, crayfish or trees. It’s important to learn, Andrew said.
“You value the things you know,” he said. “The world is so much richer if you can identify the things that are in it. I want him to know what he hears and what he sees.
“There is a lot of learning that takes place here; experience is the best teacher.”
Andrew let his son wander where he wanted, but kept him out of deeper water.
The boy asked questions, observed things and pointed them out. “These conversations are very organic in places like this,” Andrew said. “I want him to know I don’t have all the answers.”
When it was over, they headed home with one small trout and a boy a bit wiser in the ways of water, nature and life.
They had written another chapter in their life outdoors.
“Water is the elixir of life. Because of water life exists. Is it a wonder that we are drawn to it?” — The final words of Pruett’s novella.
John Weiss has written and reported about Outdoors topics for the Post Bulletin for 45 years. He is the author of the book “Backroads: The Best of the Best by Post Bulletin Columnist John Weiss”
On the Whitewater River in late July, a novella came to life.
Andrew Pruett wrote “Water: The Elixir of Life” that prominently features the trials and joys of teaching his son, Theodore, then four years old, to fish. The boy is now nine, and the two fished the river on a hot July evening, hoping to bring home trout. I went along because I first read the novella when judging it for the We Are Water contest last spring and liked how Andrew thought about fishing, his son, nature and life.
The novella was one of the three top entries for the Rochester Public Library contest and were published recently in the book “Water Stories: A Memoir Anthology.”
The other two winners are Meleece Cheal Orme and Jan Wiersma. The book is available at the library and also online on its Overdrive digital collection.
The first half of the Pruett novella highlights Andrew’s grueling training to be a military survival instructor. All is connected with water, both in mild tropical seas and snow of a brutal Alaskan winter. I shuddered and cringed at what he went through but smiled and applauded when reading about his son.
On that July evening, the two first wet-waded the North Branch in Carley State Park because it’s smaller water and familiar. Theodore said they like trout because the family did research and found trout are low in mercury, a too-common water pollutant — his family obviously versed him in water quality.
“And they are, like, hard to catch,” he said.
“I think it’s more fun to catch things (that are) hard to catch.” In that, he sounded like his dad facing and enjoying the immense challenges in military training.
Theodore said he’d love to follow in his dad’s fishing footsteps “because he’s good at fishing and I love to fish and he is really good at knowing the river.”
Sure, his dad said he could catch more fish if he had been serious about fishing by himself, “but it wouldn’t be as much fun. I get so much joy out of seeing him catch something.”
Before they made their first cast, however, I saw trouble — the Whitewater was dirty. Fishing would be difficult, but not impossible. They went for it and through their trials, snags, falls and more snags, they laughed and loved it.
“He’s the best at getting snagged that I’ve ever seen,” said dad.
Getting lures hung up in trees, rocks and grass is a big part of the novella.
Both cast in-line spinners, Andrew with accuracy, Theodore with vigor. Vigor proved to be a problem. Dad kept coaching him on where to cast. “Perfect cast, kiddo, perfect cast,” he said when the lure flew true.
But at times, the spinner had a mind — and trajectory — of its own.
Like in the novella, dad retrieved the lures.
At first, they tried walking along shore but after a while, “we pretty much stay in the water,” dad said. I followed along, taking pictures, chuckling at dad’s patience.
Fishing was poor; I suggested the Middle Branch in Whitewater State Park might be clearer. To Whitewater park we went. The river was clearer.
Theodore began casting and it was just like it was at Carley — snags. “There are no tree fish,” his dad said. Theodore again tried to catch a tree trout.
Dad laughed.
I saw it so often — Theodore got his spinner tangled, Andrew untangled his son’s spinner or tied on a new one after breaking off.
Finally, I had to ask: How can you possibly be so patient? “From love,” Andrew said.
Again, the novella lived.
After untangling his son yet again, his son cast upstream into a riffle. Bang. Fish on. He reeled it in and gave it a big pull, sending the nice brown over his head.
“It’s a flying fish,” said a delighted dad.
“I thought I had a snag,” Theodore said.
“You did great,” dad said.
That was it for catching — one fish and a delighted dad.
“The only way to learn the language of nature is to experience it. Only then, will Mother Nature begin to reveal her secrets.” — From Pruett’s novella.
The evening of fishing was also a time to learn from nature, the other emphasis in the second half of “Water: The Elixir of Life.”
For Andrew, the two are one — fishing and nature watching, they do both, looking for rising fish, searching for birds, groundhogs, crayfish or trees. It’s important to learn, Andrew said.
“You value the things you know,” he said. “The world is so much richer if you can identify the things that are in it. I want him to know what he hears and what he sees.
“There is a lot of learning that takes place here; experience is the best teacher.”
Andrew let his son wander where he wanted, but kept him out of deeper water.
The boy asked questions, observed things and pointed them out. “These conversations are very organic in places like this,” Andrew said. “I want him to know I don’t have all the answers.”
When it was over, they headed home with one small trout and a boy a bit wiser in the ways of water, nature and life.
They had written another chapter in their life outdoors.
“Water is the elixir of life. Because of water life exists. Is it a wonder that we are drawn to it?” — The final words of Pruett’s novella.
John Weiss has written and reported about Outdoors topics for the Post Bulletin for 45 years. He is the author of the book “Backroads: The Best of the Best by Post Bulletin Columnist John Weiss”