Nobody Owns the Fishing Dock, So Act Like Everybody Does

Every public fishing dock has a sunrise regular, a grandpa with a five-gallon bucket of bluegill, and a kid with a cartoon rod. Then, around 7:15 on a Saturday, it gets one more guy. He parks his cooler across the walkway, plays music off his phone, lobs a three-ounce sinker over four other lines and asks the grandpa if anything's biting while standing on the grandpa's rod. He isn't a bad person. He just doesn't know. I'm sure of this because for one entire summer in high school, on a lake pier I won't name to protect the bluegill, he was me.

The rules

1. Ask before you set up next to somebody. "Mind if I squeeze in?" takes two seconds and has never once started a fight in the history of fishing. It tells the other angler you'll respect his water, and you get a straight answer about where his line is lying before you tangle it.

1. Look behind you, and up, before every cast. The dock is the only place a single backcast can hook a toddler, a grandmother and a pelican in one smooth motion. No joke on this one: a hook near the eye is an emergency room trip. Wear sunglasses, use a sidearm cast when people are walking behind you, and never cast anywhere near overhead power lines, because graphite rods conduct electricity. If a hook goes into someone's eye or close to it, leave it in and get medical help.

1. Cast straight out from where you stand. Throwing at an angle across the dock is how two strangers end up proudly reeling in the same bass. When every line goes straight out, the water in front of each person stays his, and the tangles mostly disappear.

1. When somebody yells "fish on," reel in. Your line is now an obstacle course, and nobody has ever lost a fish of a lifetime because a stranger was too courteous. Clear your line, step back, and if he needs it, grab the net.

1. Net it for him, but never touch his line. Grabbing a stranger's line to haul his fish up is how you become the villain in a story he tells for the rest of his life. Hold the net low in the water, let him lead the fish in head first, then lift. Hoisting a heavy fish up a tall dock by the line is how lines snap and fish get hurt.

1. A bucket holds your spot for a while, not all day. Your rod and bucket can save your place while you walk to the truck for ice, not while you go out for pancakes. Dock space is limited, and the guy who rolls up at noon deserves a shot at the rail too.

1. Keep your gear in your own lane. A rod lying across the boards is a tripping hazard with a treble hook attached. Close the tackle box, park the cooler against the rail, and hang your hook in the keeper when you're not casting. Docks are narrow and wet, and everybody on them is staring at the water instead of their feet. Little kids on a dock wear life jackets. No joke attached to that one either.

1. Don't leave a single inch of line behind. Old monofilament is the only thing on earth more tangled than the extension cords in my garage. Birds and turtles get wrapped up in it, and it lasts for years in the water. Pocket your clippings, use the line recycling tube if the dock has one, and pick up the snarl somebody else left while you're down there.

1. Leave the boards cleaner than you found them. Nobody's grandmother has ever said, "What lovely dried bait on the railing." Splash off fish slime and bait with a bucket of lake water, take your empty worm cups home, and grab the one that was already there when you showed up. A clean dock tends to stay open to fishing. A filthy one gets a sign.

1. Bring extra, and offer it to the kid. A spare dozen nightcrawlers is the cheapest way I know to become a legend. The kid staring at an empty hook today might keep fishing for fifty years if somebody hands him a worm and shows him where the bluegill sit. If you've got your own kid along, keep it short and keep it fun.

1. Help without taking over. Tying a kid's knot is generous, but reeling in his fish for him is theft with good intentions. Show him once, hand the rod back, and let him lose a few. That's how the knot sticks.

1. The launch dock is for launching. Standing on the courtesy dock with three rods while a guy tries to back a boat into your bobber is a great way to meet him, but not the way you'd want to. Those docks are there for loading and tying up, and plenty of ramps post signs against fishing from them. Fish the fishing pier and leave the ramp to the boats.

1. Keeping fish is fine, so do it right. Nobody on the dock wants to watch a bass do a slow lap of the boards while you decide what to do with it. Licenses, size limits and bag limits vary by state and province, so check yours before you go. Our rundown on size and slot limits explains what the numbers mean. Measure fast, then either ice the ones you're keeping or put them back quickly with wet hands. If you're releasing, do it so the fish actually lives. Keepers and releasers both belong on the dock, and neither needs a lecture from the other.

1. Keep the music in your earbuds. Your playlist is great, and it's still yours. Half the people on a dock at sunrise came for the quiet, and the other half are trying to hear their bell rattle.

1. Hold your ground, nicely. If a stranger casts across your line twice, the third time is on you. Try "Hey, I've got a line out at eleven o'clock, can you throw a little left?" Say it friendly, say it once, and most people will fix it on the spot, because they honestly hadn't noticed. Putting others first doesn't mean handing over your water.

The rule under all of them

A public dock belongs to everybody and nobody, so it only works when each person treats it like it's his own and the guy next to him is a guest. Give him room. Bring a little extra. Speak up when you need to, without a grudge. Then walk off with the boards cleaner than when you got there. Do that for one summer and the grandpa with the bucket will start saving you a spot. He's been watching the whole time. They always are.