Fishonline: Experience the best fishing
Fishing adventures of a lifetime!
Fishonline: Experience the best fishing
Fishing adventures of a lifetime!
Welcome to fish online!
How Fishonline.ca started
I started fishing for frogs when I was 5 years old. The fishing rod was a three-foot-long willow tree branch; the line was just as thread from an old mosquito screen, and instead of a hook...
Well, instead of a hook, I took apart my mom’s curling accessory hair care products, which looked exactly like a wooden cherry. It was painted red, and I dangled it in front of a green frog. I didn’t have to go far; the artesian well was fifty feet from our house. The runoff from the constantly flowing fresh water was collecting into a narrow canal that was flowing toward the Tarna. On the way to the Tarna, it was flowing under small bridges in front of every house on Kossuth Street. Green vegetation covered the edge of the stream, and the green frogs were using this to ambush mosquitoes and other insects. Frogs cannot resist any small object that you dangle in front of them if they remind them of food. After they jumped on the improvised wooden jig and played swing around the waterhole, we let them go, and they were released unharmed. We didn’t use hooks, and after the frogs had jumped on the wooden cherry and held on for a few seconds, they let go and splashed back into the shallow stream to hide under the green moss and other vegetation. I lived in a quiet village in Hungary called Tofalu, which means village of the lake. Hundreds of years ago there must have been a lake near the village; now only a small river called the Tarna remains. What the river lacks in size makes up for in the diversity of the fish population. My favorite species to catch by hand or with a fishing rod is an elusive creature called the domolyko, which translates as chub; however, the translation does not give it justice. It behaves and looks more like silver trout. Here is a picture of one that we caught in the Tarna.
In grade 6, after school with two of my friends, we regularly went to fish in the river, sometimes by hand, just like you see the new link for catfish in south Tennessee, so we did noodling in the river under the rocks and crevices by hand, and we were catching the fish. It was around this time when I was 12 years old. When I purchased my first real fishing rod with a reel, the rod was a bamboo rod. It was a simple reel. However, it helped me catch hundreds of fish from the river. I still want to recreate that first rod with a branch of a willow tree. We formed leaders from copper wire, fishing line from an old mosquito mesh, and the hook was shaped from a push-pin needle. I used a cork from a wine bottle for a bobber and my fishing system was ready.
We also fished the river by hand and looked for different species under rocks and in the deeper holes under the riverbank that the floods washed out.
Here is a picture of my son Peter; we caught this domolyko in the Tarna folyo.
During my university studies, I majored in biology and physical education. For my research project, I have picked fish fauna research in Hungary. We had special permission to fish in lakes and rivers, take samples, interview professional fishermen, and collaborate with scientists. Some of the fish species we have researched and preserved are still on display in the biology department of Eszterházy Károly Catholic University in Hungary.
Fast forward to 1989. My wife and I have immigrated to the USA, and soon after we have settled in and started working, I’ve started my ocean fishing adventures.
The Day I Challenged the Atlantic (And Lived to Fish Another Day)
In the summer of 1990, I stood on the sandy shores of Seaside Park, New Jersey, staring at the vast, rolling waves of the Atlantic Ocean. It was my first time swimming in its waters, and while the sun shone brightly and families played along the beach, one thought dominated my mind: Jaws.
Like millions of others, I had seen Steven Spielberg’s 1975 classic, and I knew all too well the primal fear it had instilled in ocean-goers worldwide. The ominous two-note theme—dun dun… dun dun…—played on repeat in my head as I waded in, the water rising from my ankles to my knees, then to my waist. Each step deeper into the surf felt like a test of courage, or perhaps, recklessness.
I reminded myself that Jaws was just a movie. But was it?
The terrifying tale of the great white shark that terrorized Amity Island wasn’t just Hollywood fiction—it was inspired by true events. In 1916, a series of fatal shark attacks along the Jersey Shore sent shockwaves through the nation. Bathers in Beach Haven, just miles from where I now stood, were among the first victims. The attacks weren’t limited to the ocean either—one even occurred in the unlikeliest places, Matawan Creek, miles inland. It was these real-life events that partly inspired Peter Benchley’s 1974 novel Jaws, which Spielberg later turned into one of the most legendary films of all time.
But on that day in 1990, standing chest-deep in the Atlantic, I wasn’t thinking about history. I was thinking about what might be lurking just beneath me.
The water was murky, shifting with the current. Every brush of seaweed sent a jolt of electricity through my spine. The possibility of an unseen predator felt real, irrational as it was. But I had come this far—I had to go all the way. I took a deep breath, pushed forward, and swam.
For a few minutes, I embraced the ocean, moving through the waves, feeling the power of nature around me. The fear slowly gave way to exhilaration. No fins appeared. No unseen force pulled me under. The Atlantic, despite its history and its legends, welcomed me without incident. I returned to shore in one piece, laughing at my own paranoia.
That first swim wasn’t just a dip in the ocean; it was the beginning of my lifelong love for the sea. Since that day, I’ve swum in those waters countless times, fished along the coast, and developed a deep respect for the mysteries beneath the waves.
Today, my passion for fishing and the ocean has led me to create this website where I can share knowledge, stories, and tips with fellow anglers and ocean enthusiasts. The Atlantic may hold its dangers, but it also holds adventure, beauty, and an endless supply of unforgettable experiences.
And yes, Jaws still crosses my mind every now and then. But I’ve learned that the ocean is not just a place of fear; it’s a place of discovery. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I have three kids, and as soon as they could walk, we went on fishing trips as a family. I remember when my son, Peter, was 10 months old, we went for a walk from our house in New Jersey.
We lived in Rockaway, New Jersey, and White Medow Lake was a five-minute walk from our house. You could catch crappies and perch right from the shore or the boat dock, and even trout in the spring after they have stocked the lake. On this Autumn Day in the year 2000, we had something much more interesting: chasing our worm in a tube jig. As soon as I set the hook, I knew it was not a perch or a crappie. This fish pulled hard, and after a five-minute fight, I pulled a 25-inch walleye into the boat dock. We didn’t bring a landing net, so I grabbed a large black garbage bag, gave the rod to my wife, and netted the fish with the makeshift landing bag. We prepared the walleye for dinner, and I remember that Peter, my son, was almost a year old when he had his first taste of boneless walleye. He was eating it with both hands. This is how kids start to enjoy and appreciate the wonderful experiences of fishing by the river, lakes, and ocean.
I would like to share many more experiences with you in our future blogs, stories, and videos. Please come back to this website often, enjoy our content, and engage with our blogs and videos. Happy fishing!
