Over the years, Tom Hennessey and I have gotten together occasionally in June for a morning of bass fishing, either on the Penobscot River or at a pond not too far from home. Tom usually calls me to prod me away from my occupational master, an old Dell 2350 computer with a glaring screen of words demanding attention.

Tom called the other day. His timing was uncanny. I had been knee-deep in work for two months straight. I had not wet a line this spring, which is out of character for me. Tom didn’t have to ask me twice. He said that he had found a new pond not far from Ellsworth —  my new home — that was proven.

“It is a fine little bass pond,” he said. “Wanna give it a shot?” he asked.

“You bet,” I responded. “I need a break. “You read my mind!”

You know, if you have ever tried it, that snagging up with a spawning smallmouth on a 5- weight flyrod can be a hoot.

It’s a pretty simple undertaking. Slow paddling a canoe up along a rocky shoreline, you cast a small popping bug in toward shore in search of a feisty “smallie” guarding the nest. Twitching the fly line imparts a seductive glugging sound, along with a small tell-tale wake. The bass hate it. An apparent threat to their procreation plan, the bass charges the bug like an angry bull after a cape-wielding matador.

Explosive action is no overstatement.

For Tom and me, this angling action was nonstop, and the day-for-fishing was classic. Negligible breeze and a high overcast worked in our favor every step of the way. Taking turns paddling and fishing, we worked the best part of this classic Downeast bass pond’s shoreline for four and a half hours.

As any angler knows, good fishing is just part of the pleasure factor; the other is sharing a canoe with a friend, especially one who is a seasoned, accomplished angler and an equally thoughtful conversationalist.

Hennessey is all of the above. Of course, it helps the conversation along if you share common bonds. My bass-bugging buddy and I proved again that our wives are wrong and that, indeed, men are capable of multi-tasking. Tom and I managed to resolve many of the world’s problems, talk about outdoor writing and sporting art, our “good old days” at the Bangor Daily News, and even some unmentionable topics — while simultaneously casting a long, fairly straight fly line and playing two-pound smallies that darted and danced across the water like miniature tarpon at Long Key.

As a sporting artist and perfectionist by nature, Tom is also, to use the current jargon, a minimalist at heart. My words, not his. It is one of the reasons that I always enjoy our time together. His canoe is simple. Two paddles and two jackets. No electric trolling motor. No fish finder. No fancy duds. He still carrys his boat gear in an ash packbasket, for heaven’s sake. Boat conversation flows both ways, nice and easy. There can be moments when nobody talks. Neither of us takes any discomfort in the conversational lull.

An eagle soars above us in a thermal and then makes a low pass across the water, not far from the canoe. Was it after one of our released bass that didn’t make it? Perhaps.

By noontime on our bass pond, a stiffening south wind brought our bass bugging to a close. None too soon. Four hours in a canoe is about my limit, though I kept that to myself. We let the wind carry us back to our put-in spot across the pond. (I wondered to myself if Tom, three years my senior, was as eager as I was to exit the canoe and get vertical.)

Soon that question answered itself. As we beached the canoe on a wave-spattered beach, the challenge became obvious: quite simply to standup, put one foot over the gunwale, and then place both feet on the sand and then stand up straight.

We both managed it, but not with the fluidity or finesse you might expect from experienced boatsmen like us. No words were spoken, but we shared a glance and a smile and, no doubt, similar thoughts. Foremost, “Hmm, I wonder how many more years we’ll be able to do this?”

V. Paul Reynolds is editor of the Northwoods Sporting Journal. He is also a Maine Guide, co-host of a weekly radio program “Maine Outdoors” heard Sundays at 7 p.m. on The Voice of Maine News-Talk Network (WVOM-FM 103.9, WQVM-FM 101.3) and former information officer for the Maine Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. His e-mail address is [email protected] and his new book is “A Maine Deer Hunter’s Logbook.”