Written by:
Felicia Pavelich
Introduction to fishing
I must’ve been 4 or 5 the first time Dad took me fishing. I remember it like a photograph etched in my mind—the kind that never fades with time. We parked the old station wagon (the one with the fake wood on the side) by the edge of the lake, and he carried everything while I trailed behind, arms swinging, heart pounding with the kind of excitement only a little girl could feel about something she didn’t yet understand.
The rock outcrop was our spot. He set up an old plastic lawn chair right on the flat part of the rock, the legs uneven, wobbling slightly with every movement. I plopped down, the sun warm on my face, the lake shimmering in front of us like it was holding secrets.
Dad didn’t talk much—not about feelings, anyway—but he had this quiet way of showing me things. He handed me a little beige tackle box and opened it slowly, each compartment holding something shiny, something mysterious. Then he pulled out a wriggling nightcrawler from a container and showed me how to thread it onto the hook. “Like this,” he said, his hands steady, deliberate. “Not too tight, or you’ll tear it. Not too loose, or it’ll slide right off.”
We spent hours that way—no radio, no phones. Just the quiet lapping of the water and the occasional tug on the line. When I caught my first fish—a little perch not more than six inches long—he didn’t make a big fuss. Just nodded and said, “Good job, kiddo.” That meant more to me than a cheer ever could.
Later, back at the campground, he showed me how to fillet it. I stood, watching him glide the knife behind the gills and along the spine. He was a teacher so I always got the biology lesson and the discovery of what the fish was eating that day. He placed my hands over his, guiding me through the motion until I could feel where the blade should go, the way it caught on tiny bones.
That night, we ate our catch with a little butter and lemon. I was proud. Not just because I’d caught something—but because I’d shared something with him. A quiet, patient ritual. A lesson in stillness and strength. And love, though he never said the word out loud.
I still visit his favorite place to fish and contemplate in a small parkette on the Detroit River.
Experiences and challenges
Being a woman who loves to fish—whether it’s for the thrill of the catch or just for some good ol’ R&R—comes with a special kind of richness, quiet bliss, and, let’s be honest, a fair share of challenges.
When folks find out I’m into fishing, I get the whole spectrum of reactions—from a delighted smile to that one eyebrow hike that says, “You don’t say!” But let me tell you, it’s no fish tale. Fishing is more than a hobby; it’s a piece of my soul, a place where I find my zen, my grit, and my calling.
I learned the ropes from my dad, and my lesson wasn’t fishing lures and techniques, it was patience and being in nature. But once I cast my net wider into the fishing community, I realized being a lady in this sport meant navigating some choppy waters.
You’d think that on the water, everyone’s equal, right? Most of the time it is and I am glad I have been surrounded with so many amazing people. But there are times when people assume I’m just tagging along for the boat ride. They’d start explaining the ABCs of fishing to me without asking about my experience. And then there is the clothing—it was tough to find a fit as I am very tall. I found a lot of clothing interfered with my fishing as the clothing was oversized to be long enough.
But, let’s get real, the real kicker was the lack of ladies like me in the fishing limelight. It was all men in the magazines, on the tube, and even the tackle shop posters. And that pesky little voice in my head whispering, “Do you really fit in here?”
But once you’re out there, with nothing but the rhythm of the river and the tug of the line, all that nonsense fades away. It’s just you, the rod, and Mother Nature’s dance floor. Fishing—it’s a test of patience, of power, and of knowing what that little fishy’s thinking. And those qualities, let me tell you, aren’t doled out by the gender gods.
The moments that make it all worthwhile? The feeling of still water, the sun rising, throwing out a topwater and bam!!! Nothing like it!
Perceptions and attitudes
The perceptions of others do not affect me greatly as I am in that golden age of not giving a darn what others think. That weighs heavy on a lot of female anglers, and more time on the water with like-minded people builds confidence, and the negative drone fades and the “atta girls” become louder.
Support system
My loudest supporters are the ones that think I’m a bit off my rocker for spending 10 hours in the blaring sun, pouring rain, deadly biting bugs, full paychecks spent at the tackle store (okay, maybe only half the cheque… lol), and leaving get-togethers early to get up at 3 a.m. to then drive three hours. Friends and family that I can’t thank enough for their support.
The support for women anglers in Ontario is quite robust. There are many groups dedicated to women anglers and hunters where we support each other and develop great and lasting friendships.
Representation and visibility
No, I don’t believe women are adequately represented in fishing industry media, events, or leadership roles—and as a Gen X woman who’s spent years on the water and in the industry’s shadow, I’ve seen firsthand how overlooked we’ve been. While things have slowly improved, the bulk of fishing media still centers men—often portraying them as the default experts, competitors, and voices of authority.
When women are included, we’re often framed as newcomers, sidekicks, or, frankly, there for aesthetic appeal rather than skill. That doesn’t reflect reality. There are thousands of us out here—rigging bait, hauling nets, winning tournaments, managing fisheries, guiding charters, and running successful businesses. We deserve to be represented in a way that highlights our competence, not our novelty.
Visibility matters. Young girls and new female anglers need to see women who look like them leading—not just participating. That means more women in marketing campaigns, in instructional content, as keynote speakers, and yes, in executive roles where decisions about gear, sponsorships, and access are made.
We’re not asking for special treatment. We’re asking for fair, professional, competent representation that reflects the reality of who’s out there fishing—and leading. And we’re not going anywhere.
Changes over time
With the strength and confidence of the younger generations of women, I have seen great strides in the accomplishments and earned respect for these women in the fishing community. I see fathers supporting their daughters and encouraging them to go for gold without hesitation or mention of cultural norms.
I have always known competent women anglers, but we didn’t have the amazing opportunities that these young ladies have today. So go get ’em, girls!
Equality and inclusion efforts
I was very proud to make the B.A.S.S. Team that represented Canada in the U.S. in my first year of tournament fishing. I could not have done it without the KWC Bassmasters in Kitchener, Ontario.
I still remember my first meeting where I walked into the Legion and they said I must be in the wrong room. When I asked if this was the fishing club, the gentleman—with a tilted head and a slow voice—said, “Yes, it is.”
They have had the utmost patience and have treated me with great respect. I was at a tough place in my life and felt a new sense of excitement over sharing my passion with others. It was amazing to learn different skills and techniques from a wide variety of very talented anglers, and I felt like a little sister surrounded by lots of big brothers.
Personal achievement
I was very proud to make the BASS Team that represented Canada in the U.S. in my first year of tournament fishing.
Fishing style
Bass and tournament fishing are hands down my favorite—there’s just nothing like the adrenaline rush of competitive angling. The early mornings, the strategy, the pressure of the clock—it all lights a fire in me. I love the mental game of bass fishing: figuring out patterns, adjusting tactics on the fly, reading water, and staying laser-focused. There’s a real thrill in knowing one cast could change the whole day.
That said, I truly love all types of fishing. Each style has its own beauty and challenge. Fly fishing feels almost meditative—artful and precise. Shore fishing brings me back to my roots and connects me to stillness. Saltwater fishing brings the power and unpredictability of the ocean, and I’ll never pass up a chance to go out deep or cast from a pier.
Whether it’s lakes, rivers, or the sea, there’s always something to learn and appreciate. Fishing, to me, is more than a sport or hobby—it’s a lifelong passion that keeps evolving, just like I do.
Advice for aspiring female anglers
Being a woman who fishes—whether professionally or recreationally—comes with its own set of rich experiences, quiet joys, and undeniable challenges.
There’s also a sisterhood growing now—other women who love the sport, who mentor, who post their catches without apology, who organize women’s fishing tournaments, who advocate for inclusion. We share stories, tips, and gear recommendations. We remind each other: You absolutely belong here.
And when I see a little girl with a rod in her hands, looking unsure but hopeful, I smile. Because I see myself. And I hope she grows up never needing to prove she has the right to fish.
Because she already does.
You can follow Felicia on Instagram: @felicia_fish_for_short
