There comes a moment in every angler's life when you realize you might have a slight fishing gear problem. My moment arrived when I found myself explaining to my drone why my collection of aluminum fishing tackle boxes was clearly superior to plastic ones. The drone, being an impartial observer, had no opinion—but the pod of dolphins that showed up definitely seemed curious.

It all started with a visit to Alan's fishing tackle, my local fishing haven that smells like adventure and slightly old bait. I went in for some basic all fishing equipment and walked out with what can only be described as a problem. My new Allen Cottonwood rod and gear bag was so spacious I could probably fit a small child in it (for fishing purposes only, of course).
My collection grew rapidly. I became the proud owner of all around fishing traps that promised to catch everything from minnows to marlins (they mostly caught seaweed). I stocked up on aluminum fishing tackle boxes because they're shiny and make me feel professional. I even grabbed an Alvey wading bag that's perfect for those times when I want to look like I know what I'm doing in the water.

The real treasures came from my online shopping adventures. My Amazon Ugly Stik GX2 arrived in a box so big the delivery driver gave me that "another fishing guy" look. Not to be outdone, I also snagged an Anaconda Ugly Stik that's so long I can probably fish in my neighbor's pool without leaving my yard.
As I suited up in my finest angler gear (which mostly consists of clothes that already smell like fish), I felt prepared. I had my Allen Cottonwood rod and gear bag packed with every possible fishing necessity, including three different aluminum fishing tackle boxes because organization is key when you're not catching anything.
The big moment arrived. I launched my drone, cast my line with my Amazon Ugly Stik GX2, and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Just as I was considering whether my Anaconda Ugly Stik might work better, something extraordinary happened.
My drone's camera captured movement below the surface. Not just any movement—dolphins. A whole pod of them, and they seemed fascinated by my all around fishing traps. One particularly curious dolphin kept bumping my Alvey wading bag with its nose, as if to say "Nice gear, but your technique needs work."
For the next thirty minutes, I was treated to what can only be described as a marine mammal review of my fishing skills. The dolphins seemed particularly interested in my all fishing equipment setup, circling my lines with what I choose to believe was professional curiosity rather than mockery.
I tried everything—switching between my different aluminum fishing tackle boxes, adjusting my angler gear, even trying to look like I knew what I was doing with my Allen Cottonwood rod and gear bag. But the only thing interested in my gear was these dolphins, who seemed to think my all around fishing traps were some kind of underwater toy collection.
My Amazon Ugly Stik GX2 suddenly felt very inadequate as a dolphin playmate. The Anaconda Ugly Stik proved equally uninteresting to my new aquatic friends. Even my fancy Alvey wading bag failed to impress the discerning marine audience.
In the end, the dolphins swam away, probably to find someone with better fishing stories, leaving me with incredible drone footage and exactly zero caught fish. But you know what? I'm calling it a win. How many people can say they've had their angler gear reviewed by a panel of dolphin experts?
So if you're ever feeling discouraged about your fishing skills, just remember: somewhere out there, a person with all fishing equipment is being judged by marine life for their choice of aluminum fishing tackle boxes. And that person is definitely me.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go edit this drone footage into something that doesn't look like a "how not to fish" tutorial featuring disappointed dolphins.