My friends have success fishing right from our campsite.

It started yesterday afternoon. Janet and I were down on the shoreline talking about how high the water had risen. (Water level here is determined by releases from the Parker and Palo Verde Dams 50+ and 10+ miles upriver from here respectively.) In general, fishing is better when the water level is higher. Obviously, so is boating. Janet loves to fish and I love to paddle so the higher the water level was, the happier we were.

As we stood there looking out at the water, fish were jumping. Big fish. Lots of them.

“Maybe I should throw a line in,” Janet said.

It was about 3 PM and we were supposed to go fishing earlier in the day at another site up the backwater channel. But our companions needed to make a propane run and the weather had become overcast and chilly. No one — except maybe Janet — seemed interested in going anymore.

I was ready for a nap — or a least a few hours in my camper with Penny and a book. I went in. Janet took her fishing pole and worms out to the shrinking beach. I was stiff fussing around in my tiny kitchen area when she called out excitedly. I ran out in time to see her reeling in a fish. When I caught sight of it in the water, I thought it was small, but when she pulled it out, it turned out to be a decent sized orange ear — a very tasty edible fish. She’d gotten it on her first cast out.

Of course, I like to fish, too, especially when I can do it in some level of comfort. So I carried my fishing pole and camp chair down to the shore, put one of Janet’s worms on my hook, and cast out.

The jumping fish seemed to taunt us. It reminded me of a meteor shower where you feel lucky to see one or two meteors per minute. We were seeing one of two jumping fish per minute.

The two of us fished for at least a half hour but no more luck. I gave up first. I’d been steadily getting colder and was now really interested in that nap I’d been thinking about. I tossed my soggy worm into the water and took my chair and pole pack up to my camper. A few minutes later, I was stretched out on my bed with Penny and my iPad, reading.

Meanwhile, word had spread in our little camp. There are six of us here with six trailers/campers and four trucks. One of the other campers, Jeff from Canada, had cast out a line and set the pole on shore propped up on a forked stick. He put a small bell on the pole.

We were all gathered around the campfire just before dinner when Penny took interest in something on the shore. Although I didn’t hear the bell, Jeff did. He jumped up and ran to his pole. A minute later, he was reeling in a pretty big channel catfish.

We’ve already had two fish dinners at camp — three, if you count the one I missed when I was in Phoenix over the weekend. While I’m not particularly fond of catfish, the orange ear and bass that are in here are very tasty. I’m sure we’ll fish some more to collect enough for another dinner. I hope I can contribute.

With some level of comfort, of course.