Sorry for your loss, Brisket.
I lost my dad 20 years ago when he was merely 60. I thought about him yesterday. I thought about him this morning, even before reading your beautiful tribute.
Fishing was the great bond between us as well. My father was not a patient man, especially with young Jerry's anticks and attitude. The most patient I ever saw my father was when we were fishing. I remember as a young kid tossing my lure right into a tree, again and again; expecting unapproving looks or words that never came. I remember getting to go trout fishing in sub-zero temps and bitching about being cold the entire time, then being invited out again the next day. As my dad was dying, I helped him down to the dock and carried him into the boat for our last fishing trip - we caught fish due to his lessons over the 30+ previous years.
I shed tears this morning for you, your father, me, and my father.