Something about bobber fishing has hooked me since childhood. It is there, very real and so enticing, but I can’t exactly tell you why it is so appealing.

Perhaps it is the cadence of the float as it rides the ripples. Maybe it is the sudden dunk of the quill bobber. Or perhaps it is the weight at the end of the line when I set the hook after the bobber dives under the surface.

Hanging live bait under a float is an ancient technique, almost as old as fishing itself, but even with 21st century technology available to me and you, we still love the basic simplicity of waiting patiently for the bobber to be pulled under the surface by a hungry bluegill, crappie, perch or bass.

For most of us, our very first fishing experiences were with spincast rods and reels to which our parents tied tiny hooks and clamped round red-and-white bobbers 2 or 3 feet up the line. We threaded a squirming garden worm on the hook and we lobbed the bait out over the pond to splash down in what we hoped was that day’s Bluegill Zone.

The ol’ red bobber defined fishing for me for many years. I still have an assortment of them, along with corks and quill floats, stashed in a small Plano box ready for action when I get the itch to go panfishing.

I have enjoyed amazing opportunities to fish dozens of lakes and reservoirs in Ohio and across the eastern United States, as well as the Atlantic Ocean, Gulf of Mexico, Chesapeake Bay and tidal water in Maine, Virginia, Maryland, North Carolina and the Louisiana Delta. They were fun, for sure, but I still cannot resist the simple pastime of watching my float ride the ripples at Mosquito, Pymatuning, Berlin and Milton.

Like I said above, I cannot put my finger on the exact reason that bobber fishing still has such a hold on me. I love standing on the Bass Cat’s front deck, casting lures to largemouth and smallmouth bass, but I always have a box of floats and jigs stowed to retrieve when I decide to take a break and pitch to the flooded willows for crappies.

I long ago lost count of how many thousands of crappies I’ve pulled from the murky thickets rimming Mosquito Lake and other NE Ohio reservoirs. I rig up a slip bobber set at 4 feet and tie on a 1/16-ounce jig and half-inch chartreuse tube. I cast close to the brush and wait for the breeze to push the quill float within range of the crappies lurking in the cover.

The simple technique has worked for generations for anglers around the world, as well as right here close to home. One of my best days ever was an April trip to Berlin Reservoir many years ago with wife Barb. We tossed fathead minnows hanging two feet under slip bobbers around flooded willows and reeled in dozens of yellow perch, several earning the opportunity to go home with us for dinner.

Bobber fishing can be simple or refined. It’s all up to anglers’ imagination. The float-and-fly technique is popular in the deep Tennessee reservoirs among anglers pursuing big smallmouth bass.

Steelhead trout anglers on the tributaries of Lake Erie lob sophisticated set-ups featuring jigs at the end of lines with split shot placed carefully to provide weight but minimal drag so that the jig appears to be riding the natural flow. Up the line they place tiny floats to suspend their lures and help the angler detect soft strikes from the wild-fighting trout.

For many years, my first spring fishing trips were to the tailwaters below Mosquito dam, where I floated tiny jigs tipped with maggots in the swirling waters. After the long, frozen winter, I was happy to get out to open water with my only goal to get a few bites. I cared little about what I actually caught and recall being content even with a few dinky perch after months of waiting for spring.

As I root through the memories, I recognize the thread that ties our experiences together. It is anticipation.

The simple round bobber and all of the dozens of similar floats are our focal points on the verge of action. We watch with keen anticipation. When the bobber dances, we snap to attention, our anticipation peaking. When it dives, we strike, and our anticipation is rewarded.

That’s fishing in its purest form.

Jack Wollitz writes weekly about fishing around Youngstown and Warren and whatever else comes to mind. Contact him at jackbbaass@gmail.com