Contrary to popular opinion, Dan Smith is not a worm farmer. Not really. Yes, Smith owns the company most of us associate with the wriggling, squiggling critters, and yes, he sells millions of them a year.

“We know worms,” Smith says, matter-of-factly.

But in what he calls “a deception that’s not a deception,” Taylor Bait Farm doesn’t actually farm its worms. Sorry to so simply destroy your preconceived notions, but here goes: Smith buys them. From Canada.

“Worms aren’t raised here,” said Smith, who has owned the Orono bait company since 1997. “You’re gonna find that most of the places like us, it’s just not economical, or good business sense, to try to raise the product by yourself.”

The climate, added cost of personnel and equipment, and the sheer number of worms he’d have to raise are among the factors that discourage actual worm farming in Maine, he said.

Taylor Bait Farm is a farm, in that Smith raises millions of golden shiners in the ponds on his Taylor Road property.

Doubt that Smith’s business is a success? All you’ve got to do is picture your local convenience store … and the blaze orange sign hanging in the window. Then check out all the stores you drive by on your next rural jaunt.

Everywhere you look, you’ll see one of those ubiquitous signs. Taylor Bait Farm.

Smith grins at the mention of his business’s brand recognition.

“You don’t even have to know what it says to know what it means,” he says, describing a marketer’s dream.

If you’re a worm dunker in these parts – or in New Hampshire or Atlantic Canada, for that matter – chances are that you buy plenty of Taylor Bait Farm’s products. Smith also ships worms elsewhere, including to California, Oklahoma and Texas.

Ever since trading in his 18-year career at the University of Maine computer center, Smith has immersed himself in the year-round bait business.

And while fly fishing is on the increase, and some lake trollers may rely on lures or smelts, the worm business has kept Smith wiggling.

“We’ll go through 200,000 to 500,000 [night crawlers] every two weeks,” Smith said.

In addition, he’ll ship as many as 200,000 trout worms and up to 75,000 “dillies,” which are small, immature night crawlers.

The worms arrive in Orono in bulk containers, and employees sort them into smaller cartons.

When Smith decided to trade careers, he already knew a bit of the company’s history. After all, he had been a loyal customer for years.

“You always knew Taylor Bait was there, from the time I was a kid,” he said. “If you were going fishing, you had to have Taylor Bait. It was like putting milk on your corn flakes in the morning.”

While few of us likely sit up late at night wondering about worms, here are a few interesting tidbits about the little wigglers, gleaned from an informative visit to Taylor Bait Farm:

. How old can worms get?

According to Smith, worms can live to be 50 years old. Night crawlers will reach their full size in about a year, while the dillies are typically a couple months old. The crawlers Taylor Bait sells are called “Seven Pounders,” because about 500 of them weigh about seven pounds. Those worms will be from four to six inches long. Some crawlers may reach 10 or 12 inches, and be as big around as your finger.

. Is it true that worms are hermaphrodites, and can perform both male and female roles in reproduction?

Smith says that’s true, and is a reason why they’re so plentiful.

“They don’t have to go out to the bar and search for Wanda Sue,” Smith said. “If George happened to be beside him, [a worm] could say, ‘OK, George, it’s your turn to lay the eggs today.'”

. I hate worms. Why shouldn’t I?

“You need worms to survive,” Smith said. “Without worms, it would be tough to live the way that we do.”

Smith’s reasoning: Worms are nature’s ultimate recyclers, and everything, whether it’s a blade of grass or a human, is eventually consumed by … you guessed it … worms.

. I bought a container of worms. Now what?

Smith says consistent temperatures are key. If you open your container and the worms are huddled in a big mass, they’re too cold. If they’re on the surface and are long and stringy, they’re too hot. Cool places like the basement are good storage areas.

Put them in the fridge if you’d like, but don’t put them too close to the lo mein noodles if you have a habit of snacking in the middle of the night.

OK. That last piece of advice didn’t come from Smith … but it seems to make sense to me.

One word of caution if you do put them in the fridge: Your worms need to breathe, so make sure you’re not stowing them there if you don’t plan on opening the door several times a day.

. Which size worm will the fish prefer?

According to Smith, that’s pretty simple: They like the one that’s in front of their face at the moment. Trout worm, crawler or dilly.

“It doesn’t matter. If the fish is hungry, whatever you’re going to dangle in front of him, he’s going to take,” Smith said.

Seen and heard …

Spend enough time in the woods, and you’re guaranteed to see plenty of wild animals. Sometimes (if you’re lucky) you’ll see those critters do things you won’t believe.

That was the case earlier this week, during a solitary evening float-tube trip on a pond in Otis.

For much of my time, the scene was perfectly peaceful; not a lick of breeze marred the mirror surface of the pond, and the only noise came from the occasional splash of a surfacing trout.

Then I heard an odd sound from shore and glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to find that my truck’s emergency brake had failed, and it was slowly lurching its way down the slope.

The truck was, thankfully, still where I’d parked it … but every now and then, the odd rat-tat-tat recurred.

After flippering my way closer to shore, I saw the source of the sound … and began to chuckle.

An apparently nearsighted (or very bored) woodpecker had perched on an old aluminum boat an angler had stored near the landing.

The noise was the sound his bill made when he repeatedly struck the aluminum hull.

After about five minutes of fruitless pecking, the woodpecker moved on … presumably with nothing more than a sore bill for his efforts.

Final dunk tank reminder

One final word: Today is likely the only day all year that I’ll do something foolish and invite you all to join in.

Wal-Mart is sponsoring a dunk tank to benefit the Children’s Miracle Network at the Eastern Maine Soap Box in Bangor.

From 12:30 p.m. until 1, I’ll be on the perch. Bring your money. Bring your best pitches. I’ll be waiting … more or less eagerly.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.