I was recently listening to Mike Jones’ podcast Flyline with Bill Green: https://flylinepodcast.com/2025/11/25/s4e3-bill-green-a-maine-outdoor-broadcasting-legend/ , and it brought back memories I hadn’t thought about in years. If you never had the chance to watch Bill Green, that podcast is a perfect introduction. For decades, Bill Green’s Maine was must-see television on Saturday nights—Bill traveling the back roads and waterways of the state, telling the stories of Maine people doing Maine things.

Listening to the episode reminded me of one of the highlights of my guiding career: the day I filmed with Bill.

In my late twenties, I used to sit at home watching Bill Green’s Maine and wonder how the people on his show ever got there. One night I decided to stop wondering and simply ask. I sent Bill an email explaining that I was a new fly-fishing guide on the Penobscot River, guiding for smallmouth bass, and asked if he’d be interested in having me on the show.

Almost immediately, he replied.

In August of 2004, we set a date to meet at Dysart’s with his cameraman. Over breakfast—Bill insisted on picking up the tab—he explained that he only needed one fish to make a television show. Funny the details that stay with you.

At the time, I had only been fishing the Penobscot for two years. In fact, I’d never fished the river at all before I started guiding. Another guide told me I needed to buy a jet boat and chase smallmouth bass, so I did—despite never having driven a boat before and having no experience fly-fishing for bass on a river that big.

Over the next couple of seasons, I explored new sections of the Penobscot whenever I could—on my own or while guiding clients. Today, there’s little water between Medway and Old Town that I haven’t fished.

That morning, nervous doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. We had one day, one chance, and the most popular outdoor show in Maine waiting on the result. Bill, however, made it clear: We only need one fish. The river offered endless water. The challenge was choosing where to begin.

As I ran upriver, my thoughts jumped from spot to spot. I considered the place where I’d caught 40 smallmouth while scouting for my first guided trip with Jack Lee. I thought about fishing moving water—August heat usually pushes fish toward cooler flows.

All the pressure was coming from me. Bill and his cameraman were relaxed, enjoying the day, trusting the river.

As I eased through a set of rapids, a side channel came to mind—clear water, good visibility, and fish I’d been able to sight-fish before. I throttled back and slipped toward the point using the trolling motor.

I remember exactly what fly I tied on: a Clouser Minnow.

The first cast was met with a solid take.

Relief came instantly—followed by panic—when the smallmouth went airborne. Big-river smallmouth on a fly rod don’t give anything for free. When the fish finally slid into the net, the pressure vanished completely, and I let out a yell that echoed down the channel.

We had our show on the very first cast.

The rest of the day was spent gathering footage—boat runs, scenic shots, and whatever else Bill needed to round out the episode. At one point, we dropped the cameraman on shore so he could film us running upriver. While he was set up, smallmouth began rising everywhere. No obvious hatch, no explanation—just fish feeding on the surface. Bill started catching them on topwater, and before long, even the cameraman was into a few.

Bill Green was exactly who you hoped he’d be: calm, genuine, and deeply appreciative of the outdoors and the people who make their lives there. He made my first television appearance easy and enjoyable, and Bill Green’s Maine remains one of the true highlights of my guiding career.

The lesson stuck with me long after the cameras were put away. Whether you’re a new guide or a seasoned one, it never hurts to ask. One email—one simple question—can change everything. Think outside the box, take a chance, and don’t be afraid to do something different to set yourself apart.