This is a column about fishing, I promise.

I’ve spent a good amount of time in the last 60-ish years around water. My dad, Jack Kennard, made sure that my older sister and I knew how to swim, so Mary and I started taking swim lessons at the community pool when we were 6 and 7 respectively.

Growing up, I never was on the school swim team, but I felt like I was a pretty accomplished swimmer.

To help pay bills in college, I worked as a lifeguard, something I’d wanted to do for a long time. When applying for the position, I was one of 15 others trying out for the two open positions, and qualifying meant passing a series of in-water challenges, the first of which was swimming four laps (down and back four times) in the 50-meter pool.

That test alone eliminated more than half the would-be lifeguards.

One of the other applicants, a young woman named Jessica, lined up in the lane next to mine. When the starting gun sounded, off we went. I settled into a decent pace pretty quickly, but every time I turned my head to take a breath, I could see Jessica riding my wake.

We finished first and second, and afterward Jessica thanked me for setting a good pace for her — although I really think she set the pace for me.

Today, most of my swimming is done at saltwater beaches.

Not too many years after that, child number four and I found ourselves kayaking along a relatively tame mountain river in our homemade boats. I say “relatively tame” because the fast moving water sank Ellie’s boat and nearly sank her when she got too close to a bridge pier. I knew that even with my swimming prowess, I’d only be putting myself in danger trying to get to her. As a father, I felt helpless standing on the rocky shore watching the water trap my child.

She was smart, though and quickly climbed free to let the water flush her under and free of the bridge piers. As far as I know, that bright red kayak is still wrapped around the pier.

Now, fishing.

Most of my time near water these days is spent with a fishing pole in my hand. I got skunked last year. My brother, Michael and I spent a few days in Great Smoky Mountain National Park’s interior. I used every trout lure I had but still wasn’t able to pull a fish out.

At one point I was up to my chest in cold water trying to drop my line in a deep pool. Still nothing.

My favorite fishing buddies have always been my children. Number two child loves fishing with her dad. We often recall a hike into a mountain lake only to catch just one trout. When we weren’t fishing on that trip, we were huddled under a tarp to escape the rain and hail. The convenience store sub sandwiches we brought along were a gourmet meal. On the way up the trail, we met a couple of hikers coming down. “Watch for the moose,” they warned us. We never saw a moose. Still, Ryley will agree: that was the best hike ever.

Another memorable fishing story starts at a Boy Scout summer camp with number three child. Noah was having a day. Things just weren’t working for him; He was hot, dirty, hungry and started asking if we could just go home.

“I have an Idea,” I said. He followed me as we marched over the camp’s trading post and picked up a cheap fishing pole. Then we walked over to the camp’s mess hall and caught a few huge house flies hopelessly pounding themselves against the glass windows. (You can always find flies in a scout camp mess hall.)

Now, fully equipped we found the closest lake on the camp with fishing access. Success. One cast, one catch. And Noah’s spirits change. We spent the next hour pulling bluegill after bluegill from that lake using a cheap rod and mess hall flies as bait. Look, I’m not a perfect dad, but I felt like one that day.

On page 1C of today’s Robesonian, you’ll see a feature story about trout fishing waters opening on June 1 — with access to youth only until noon. If you want to spend some quality time together with your child, this would be a good time.

Just remember that catching fish is not the priority, just a happy coincidence during an outing with your kids.

The warmer weather of summer brings my desire to spend more time near water – swimming, boating and fishing.