The fishing opener is coming up this weekend, and as an Assistant Producer for Morning Edition on Minnesota Public Radio, I'm helping collect stories about people's first fishing memories. The idea behind this is that for Minnesotans, the first fishing memory ranks right up there with other important firsts, like a first kiss or first date.
I only have one fishing memory, and it's not a fond one. In fact, I think I've succeeded in nearly wiping it from my mind.
I don't remember how old I was. I don't even remember the name of the lake, even though I spent most of my childhood summers there. I do remember scraping the tip of the fishing pole along the wall and catching it on the screen door. I remember being barefoot on the boat. I remember the cobwebs on the pontoon and the slippery minnows and the leeches -- I always hated leeches -- and the hook with its barbed teeth so that even if the fish tries to wiggle free, it's just hooked harder. And before I could even get my line in the lake, I got a hook in my big toe. That's all it took. No fish. No fun. I never went fishing again.
So, what is the appeal? What do people like about fishing? Are there any anglers out there that can explain the lure? What was your first fishing trip? What happened during your first fishing trip that made you love it ... or what made you never want to fish again?
Larissa A.
Assistant Producer, Minnesota Public Radio
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Comments: 14
I don't remember my very first time fishing because I grew up with it. My family, my extended family, all of us simply went fishing. It was part of life, the enjoyable part! The appeal was in spending time together outside with no necessary work at hand. Landing a big fish or catching the limit of tasty ones didn't hurt either!
Despite those obvious benefits, I don't go often enough anymore. The last couple of times I've gone have been off a dock or on the shoreline, so it basically involved watching a bobber and sitting in the sun. It sounds so nice, doesn't it? Growing up it was a bit more serious: having our lindy rigs set and leeches at the ready to troll for walleyes, knowing we'd be getting up while it was still dark with nothing but heavy flannel shirts and a thermos of coffee against the chill. But there I go, getting all nostalgic. I wouldn't trade that quiet, quality time with my family for anything.
So I guess I love it for the simple fact that it is a way to be. In this plugged-in, highly-connected and constantly-buzzing world, wouldn't it be nice to turn off the cell phone and hit the water with good company?
I think I just get a little jumpy with those hooks flying around.
But, it sounds like you're saying it's not about the fish, it's about the ceremony of fishing -- the time it allows you to unplug and spend time with good people. But, these are things you can do just sitting on the dock or on the front step. Why fish? Is there something about the activity of fishing -- the hook, the bait ... throwing a line into an unknown world?
GPS, underwater cameras, sonar, fancy lures, maps, scents, cold days, hot days, rainy days, low pressure fronts, or just fishing off the shore with your kid for sunnies, the fish are in there, just why they bite some days and not the other is just a mystery.
"Why fish?" It is a way of having something to do while doing nothing.
For the past three weeks, I have been instructing the "fishing merit badge" to a group of boy scouts. Tomorrow night we will travel to a lighted fishing pier and try our luck.
WM H I hate to admit laughing, but it was an affectionate laugh at this: "I have memories of not catching anything, loosing lures in trees or rocks, the day my father hooked my uncle behind the ear but I have no bad memories of fishing." You're not alone.
Tell us more about the Boy Scout trip and their experiences! How cool is that?!
Larissa, other folks say it better. Gary points out life lessons, WM points out it is a way of having something to do while doing nothing. I find it a destination and a path, and damn but I should do it more.
p.s. Gary: "No child left inside." I *love* that.
Gary, I love your point about developing patience and respect for nature. And, I like how you paint it ... that fishin' isn't about getting a fish. It steers people away from the world of "instant gratification."
And, WM H, I'm with Julia. I'd love to hear stories about what the Boy Scouts think about fishing!
So, do you have a first fishing memory? It seems you're very dedicated to fishin'.
My son is eleven, and after reading all these articles about how hunting and fishing are down, I am making an effort to make sure my son does this. We plan on fishing this summer and last fall we've been going to the gun club. The discipline of handling a firearm or rods and reels and hooks is good for a kid.
My earliest fishing memories all involve Dad. He's a pretty reserved guy, doesn't talk much, but he loved to fish. We had a cabin on a lake in South Dakota (we lived in SD until 1972) and we were there every weekend all summer. He taught me to bait my own hook, how to fly fish, and how to fillet the catch. Years later Mom pointed out that he taught us kids to clean the fish, and we did his, too. He never had to clean another fish! I never noticed at the time, I was having too much fun. Dad would take us out at dawn in the boat with an electic trolling motor, very quiet. We'd watch the fish starting to rise, mist coming off the water in the predawn light, and it was just us in our own little world.
We were supposed to leave from the church at 8 Friday night. We finally got on the road about 9. Just south of Houston on our way to San Luis Pass, th left front tire on my van blew out. I was able to not only get off the highway without incident, but we right by an exit ramp so I was able to get to the shoulder of the ramp. As I was getting out of the van to inspect the damage, one of the other leaders who was driving in trail, appeared with a hydraulic jack. I also had a hydraulic jack in the van due to an incident in the aftermath of Hurricane Rita and a full size, well inflated spare. Not quite ready to audition for Dale Earnharts pit crew, neverthe less, we were back on the road in ten minutes.
After a pit stop for ice and bathrooms and another for bait we arrived at the pier. management had forgotten our pre-arranged date but honored the pre-arranged fee. It worked out to about half price, for which we were extremely appreciative.
Finally, shortly after 11, we were on the pier and ready to fish. Well, almost ready.
Each boy's fishing pole had to be examined and properly rigged and baited. For a bunch of 12, 13 and 14 year old boys, they were surprisingly squeamish about handling dead shrimp but quickly overcame it. Almost immediately, the boys caught fish. Mostly 4 to 8 inch yellowtails and croakers.
The plan was to begin with fresh dead shrimp ($4.00/lb) until they all caught something and then switch to live shrimp or artificials and try to catch some speckled trout. The trout were there but were a bit more finicky than usual. It really didn't matter. The boys were more interested in quantity than quality.
One of the goals was to meet the final requirement for the fishing merit badge which requires that a suitable fish be caught, cleaned and eaten. I suspect that several of the boys were not enthused about meeting this requirement and that this fueled the reluctrance to switch to live bait.
We were fortunate to have wonderful weather. The surf was calm and the wind blew just hard enough to blow away the mosquitos that attacked us in the parking lot.
One of the Dad's cut up one of the small fish the boys caught and used it for bait on a heavier rig. The result was a three foot shark that turned out to be the highlight of the evening.
In the end everyone had a great time and seemed satisfied with the trip even though none of the boys completed the requirements for the merit badge. We may just have to go again.
And, WM H, I'm glad the boys had such a great time. I love the line about how the boys "were more interested in quantity than quality." It makes them sound excited about the actual act of catching fish.
I have to say, while I'm not an angler at heart, I love these stories of morning mist and the ground becoming alive with Fiddler crabs. I can definitely see the appeal of it all.