The Vanishing of Sam the Stocked Trout

Trout stocking day

You ask me when I last saw Sam the Stocked Trout? Listen closely. To decide on what must be done, you all must know the fate of Sam the Stocked Trout. Council of the lake, here is my recollection of what happened. Make of it what you will.

It was two days ago. As you all know, the weather that day was fair. To maximize this warm spell, I was having a leisurely stroll topwater. After all, warm weather means that anglers will be attempting to entice the trout near the bottom of the lake. But for a bluegill such as myself, warm weather means my activities will be topwater.

It was during this lovely swim that I spotted our dear friend Sam. He was at the bottom of the lake, zigging and zagging about. We all know that it is not unusual to see Sam so excited, but I felt something was wrong. I called out to him, but he did not respond.

At once, I knew something was afoot.

Ever attentive, Sam would have normally greeted me.

Immediately, I swam down to meet him.

I asked Sam what on earth could have him so ecstatic. He turned to me and said that he was on the prowl for pink Power Bait.

I was shocked.

I asked him why he was searching for such a thing.

Joyfully, he replied that it would allow him to return to the hatchery, where his fellow trout awaited him. That the people from the hatchery had come to bring the stocked trout home, but for whatever reason had failed to give him the memo. But it was no big deal. All he had to do was find the bait.

Aghast, I asked him who could have given him such a foul idea. He was about to respond, but a nugget of pink Power Bait drifted between us, suspended on a bottom rig.

Sam lunged.

I shouted at him to stop immediately.

Sam stared at me, anger flooding his eyes.

His voice was full of rage. He asked why I would try to stop him from going home.

I yelled, “Sam, this is your home! If you bite that, you will end up gutted and served on a platter! Don’t do it!”

Sam replied that Monica told him that by biting the Power Bait, he would return to the hatchery. That he would see his friends.

I cried, “Sam, your friends didn’t return, they were a fisherman’s supper!”

He couldn’t take it.

He called me a liar and a fake friend.

Monica had told him that his friends were at the hatchery, so that was that.

And then-

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

Sam swallowed the Power Bait whole. In an instant, he was snatched away, never to be seen again.

Monica, you fiend.

We know you hate Sam, but why did you have to go to such lengths?

To twist his hopes into something so evil?

Oh, don’t try to pretend you didn’t hate him, Monica.

Even the most obtuse among us could see the poison in your heart.

Stop crying, you villain. Your crocodile tears won’t convince any of us here.

…Okay, I get it, counsellor, I’ll restrain myself.

Council of the lake, I hope you make the right decision.

When was the last time I saw Sam the Stocked Trout? Well, I think it was about two or three weeks ago.

I was swimming over by the log in the deepest part of the lake. Usually, we bass stay over by the weeds in the shallows, where it is warm. But the lake was unusually warm that day, so I decided to go visit. That’s where I saw Sam. He was over in the vegetation, swimming slowly and bumping his tail along the bottom.

That was unusual for Sam, who normally zips around the lake excitedly. He’s usually an upbeat and positive guy. That’s why everyone in the lake likes him. Even the old heads in the lake, who always bust the chops of the incoming stocked trout, warmed up to him real fast. It didn’t take long before he started getting invited to our mealtimes and swims. Finding someone who doesn’t like the guy is almost impossible.

I say almost, because there’s one person in the lake who didn’t like Sam.

That person being me.

Yes, I said it, I wasn’t a fan of the guy.

You’d hate it too if some new guy comes in and gets popular right off the bat. I mean, he didn’t even grow up here. He was raised in some hatchery somewhere in the big city. Contrast that with us who did. We grew up rough. Food was never guaranteed.

Sam never had to worry about birds, frogs, and invasive fish trying to eat him up.

He’s not one of us, yet everyone treats him like he is.

And what I hated most about this whole Sam situation is that no one else sees this. Sometimes, it’s like no one remembers what we went through together. Sam could never understand it. He didn’t grow up in the struggle.

Anyways, back to the story. Sam’s stopped sulking when he noticed me over in the distance. He looked at me for a moment, blankly, then with a twinge of embarrassment. I called out to him to ask if he was all good. After all, I may have disliked the guy, but I’m not heartless. He nodded and told me life was doing great.

As I was turning around to leave, Sam asked if I could stay to talk a little. Reluctantly, I agreed. He told me that he was feeling lonely because he hadn’t seen any trout in a long time. That they bit a pink nugget that smelled exactly like the food from the hatchery and were dragged away.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. That his friends had been snatched up by fishermen. So, I told him this:

“Sam, the reason it smells like the hatchery food is because it is from there. The people there are taking you guys back now. That’s where your friends are, back at the hatchery.”

His mood instantly lifted. Smiling, he patted me on the back and told me that he knew I was a good guy.

At that moment, I thought, maybe I was wrong about Sam.

But I haven’t seen him since then.

If I do see him, I think I would try and be his friend.

Why did Sam the Stocked Trout hunger for pink Power Bait? It’s a question commonly asked among those who knew him. Those who saw him before he vanished watched as he zipped and zoomed about, hoping to catch a whiff of that familiar smell. Everyone has an opinion on the case of poor Sam. I, for one, cannot tell you what to think. But I can tell you the history of Sam, and how he came to the lake.

Sam was born just over a year ago in a hatchery somewhere in the Fraser Valley. As a fry, Sam enjoyed playing and frolicking with the other fry in his tub. Back then, he was a real social fellow. After a few more weeks of growing, Sam and his friends were dumped into the large pools that would be their home for the next few months. During this time, Sam would make many great friends. There wasn’t much room in the pool, but Sam and his friends were happy.

Alongside his new friends, Sam eagerly awaited Feeding Day. Every other day, a great hand would outstretch itself, releasing hundreds of small pellets to these hungry young trout. Those pellets had a particular smell that drove Sam mad, just like any other trout. Afterall, there’s a reason people call it a feeding frenzy. Later in life, Sam would recall that those pellets smelled like home.

Eventually, when Sam and his friends were grown, they were rounded up into a truck and dumped into the lake where he spent the rest of his life. Adjusting to the new environment was hard. Sam now had to find his own food and survive the harsh conditions of the outside world. The water he lived in was no longer regulated by careful human hands. It was a new world for Sam.

But the young trout didn’t worry, because he had his friends from the hatchery by his side. They were inseparable. Swimming, sleeping, eating, whatever the activity, they did it together. Ever social, Sam also befriended the local residents of the lake, becoming fast friends with the bass and bluegills. With friends new and old, he became accustomed to the lake. He began to feel at home.

Now, that’s it for the history of Sam. But before you move on to the accounts of those acquainted with Sam, there’s something else you should know.

The start of spring is a wonderful day for anglers across the Pacific Northwest. There is many an anglers refreshing the webpage of their local stocking report, anxious to see which lakes have been restocked and how many new fish there are.

And when that news finally hits, hundreds of anglers flock to their local lakes. Casting from docks, kayaks, paddle boards, many an angler wets their line, armed with pink Power Bait.

But why Pink Power Bait?

The reason is that the smell and look of Power Bait replicates the nuggets that the stocked trout are fed as juveniles. Trout, like most animals, are creatures of habit. When they see and smell Powerbait, nothing can hold back their desire to feed.

Power Bait image from PowerBait Original Scent Trout Bait, 50 g

Edits are by me