The bass boat is ready. It was recently reupholstered, recarpeted and outfitted with new tackle boxes, each labeled and stocked with lures.

        Franco Oliverio is ready, too. As winter wanes and the days grow longer, the Amelia man's thoughts turn to clear blue water, largemouth bass and The Annual Fishing Trip.

        Every spring since 34-year-old Franco was a teen, he has left town for several days with his father, his two brothers and several longtime fishing buddies. Franco isn't sure where they'll go this year. Only that they will go somewhere.

        Last year they traveled to Canada's Lake St. Clair. Before that, they made maybe a dozen trips to Bay Springs Lake in Mississippi. Years ago, they ventured to Tennessee's Watts Bar Lake.

        They pair up, two men to a boat, and fish from morning till dark. Franco and his father, Ezio, wile away the hours talking about tackle and bait, about the fish they caught or wish they had. It's a time to slow down and catch up on each other's lives.

        Franco learned to fish because of his father.

Franco Oliverio has gone fishing with his father every spring since he was a teen-ager. (Brandi Stafford photo) | ZOOM |

        The family bought property at Lake Waynoka in Brown County when Franco was 3. From then on, every warm-weather weekend, Franco and his younger siblings, Marco, Dino and Flora, piled in the car for the ride from their Delhi Township home to the lake.

        “My dad figured it was a way to keep us out of trouble,” Franco says. “At the lake, it was just fishing, camping, water skiing. We just had a good time.”

        By age 16, Franco had his driver's license and a measure of independence. He still went to the lake every weekend. But he spent more time with friends, less time with the man who taught him to fish.

        It's not unusual, of course, for teens to distance themselves from their parents. But Ezio Oliverio, an Italian-American fiercely loyal to family, didn't want the gap to grow too wide. He saw the fishing trips as a way to stay connected.

        The trips continued even after Franco, a machinist, moved out of his parents' home. He's married now and has two young children.

        Franco's wife, Mary, doesn't mind when he uses precious vacation days for the annual excursions.

        “I think it's important,” she says. “My dad died nine years ago. For (Franco) to be that close to his dad ... It's fine.”

        Ezio Oliverio, a 64-year-old jeweler, declined to be interviewed, preferring to let his son talk.

        “I got a video from every trip,” Franco is saying. “I got some video of my dad fileting fish, and us catching them.”

        He talks about Mississippi, how even the drive down is enjoyable. Everyone in their caravan of four vehicles chats on CB radios while motoring the scenic Natchez Trace Parkway, catching glimpses of deer and wild turkey.

        After a day of fishing, the hungry anglers always prepare a feast. One night, a fish fry. Another night, Cincinnati-style chili. Then they sit around the fire and trade fish tales.

        Last year in Canada, Franco could hardly believe their haul: about 100 smallmouth bass a day, per person, which they were required to release.

        Time was when Franco thought the annual trips were all about catching fish. Now he knows better.

        “The fishing ain't no big deal,” he says. “We like to spend time together.”

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