I haven't posted about my fishing exploits recently, mainly because there haven't been any. I have been many many times, but always returned, empty handed, and increasingly frustrated. As mentioned, fishing has the power to make you keep trying, it almost teaches you patience.
I've bought new tackle, new state of the art baits, I've watched DVD's, in fact considering I don't catch any fish, on paper, I'm nearly an expert.
As the spring turns into summer, and fish start to feed regularly again, the pond is a different place, the babies have grown rapidly, the sun has brought a lot of the bigger fish out, and the pond is now a hive of fish activity, I have sat on the bank, watching with green eyes as other pull out fish after fish, some small, but some big. I've watched kids fish for the first time and catch lots, and me, again, time after time, with a dry net and a headfull of questions.
At 10pm on Sunday night, I had my last cast, not of the evening,but I thought at the time on my short fishing career, I couldn't justify the amount of time, energy and near stress I was devoting to it, without having any end result. I left my rods in whilst I packed up my gear and got ready to call it a night.
Then, just like the last time (last year) I heard the unfamiliar sound of line slipping out of the reel, as a fish picked up my bait and swam away. As I struck into the fish I could tell immediately that it was bigger then most of the little fish in there. Within five minutes, after three months of waiting, I finally put a carp in my net, and brought it to the bank.
It was around 6lb, not the biggest, but a carp all the same. Finally!
It was unhappy about being out of the water, it had no idea I was going to pop it back, it only knew it was in danger. It tossed and wriggled, gasped, puffed and shook. I went to get the hook from its lip and it went ballistic, it really unnerved me and I just wanted to get it back in the water as soon as possible, there would be no photo, and although I was chuffed about its capture, its evident displeasure soon took over. I returned the fish to the water after it shook itself free.
Pleased with myself, I carried on packing up, looking forward to returning, finally with a story of triumph. I realised that in the struggle the carp had snapped its line, and taken with it my hook.
In our exchange, I got a story, the carp got a sharp metal hook, all in the name of entertainment.
I had come round to the way of thinking, that due to the relationship I'm sharing with nature on other levels and living so close to the outside world, that cosmically I wasn't meant to catch a fish, I wasn't meant to trick it into thinking it was lunchtime and disguising my hook into its food, I wasn't meant to use my powers as a human, to take advantage of a fellow member of our natural world.
All this changed as I put that fish back in the water. I went to sleep feeling a mixture of happiness and guilt.
The following evening, the guilt had conveniently subsided. Its amazing what we can justify to ourselves as being acceptable when we are in pursuit of pleasure. Instead of my experience leading me to renouncing anything to do with fishing and selling my tackle because its quite obviously cruel, I went and bought a new reel, and some sharper, newer hooks, and some bait produced in a laboratory to help me attract fish into my area.
As we returned from the fishing shop, there was a little posse of people, lakeside, they needed my help. A duckling no more than a month old had been found with a fishing hook in its mouth.
I took my discorger and forceps over to see if I could be of any help, the duckling had its mouth firmly closed, its mother was flapping all around us, she was extremely distressed that her offspring was in danger. I was unable to help, and as a concerned camper took the duck to the vets, little did its mother know, that she would never see her baby again.
The duckling that had survived threats from Herons, Cats, Foxes, Minks and other survival issues had met its maker in the shape of a fisherman's hook.
The duck age one month old was put down at the vets, due to having a hook lodged in its stomach.
Nature is cruel, but I think humans are crueler. Will I fish again? The way I feel now I hope I never do, its cruel, it has to be.
But like I said, we are good at justification, turning a blind eye to whats important, to the truth. We conveniently forget things whilst in pursuit of our pleasures.
It seems nature has evolved to protect itself against itself, but not against us, the humans.
Here's a video to accompany this sad tale
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcqWyyHlCDA
I've bought new tackle, new state of the art baits, I've watched DVD's, in fact considering I don't catch any fish, on paper, I'm nearly an expert.
As the spring turns into summer, and fish start to feed regularly again, the pond is a different place, the babies have grown rapidly, the sun has brought a lot of the bigger fish out, and the pond is now a hive of fish activity, I have sat on the bank, watching with green eyes as other pull out fish after fish, some small, but some big. I've watched kids fish for the first time and catch lots, and me, again, time after time, with a dry net and a headfull of questions.
At 10pm on Sunday night, I had my last cast, not of the evening,but I thought at the time on my short fishing career, I couldn't justify the amount of time, energy and near stress I was devoting to it, without having any end result. I left my rods in whilst I packed up my gear and got ready to call it a night.
Then, just like the last time (last year) I heard the unfamiliar sound of line slipping out of the reel, as a fish picked up my bait and swam away. As I struck into the fish I could tell immediately that it was bigger then most of the little fish in there. Within five minutes, after three months of waiting, I finally put a carp in my net, and brought it to the bank.
It was around 6lb, not the biggest, but a carp all the same. Finally!
It was unhappy about being out of the water, it had no idea I was going to pop it back, it only knew it was in danger. It tossed and wriggled, gasped, puffed and shook. I went to get the hook from its lip and it went ballistic, it really unnerved me and I just wanted to get it back in the water as soon as possible, there would be no photo, and although I was chuffed about its capture, its evident displeasure soon took over. I returned the fish to the water after it shook itself free.
Pleased with myself, I carried on packing up, looking forward to returning, finally with a story of triumph. I realised that in the struggle the carp had snapped its line, and taken with it my hook.
In our exchange, I got a story, the carp got a sharp metal hook, all in the name of entertainment.
I had come round to the way of thinking, that due to the relationship I'm sharing with nature on other levels and living so close to the outside world, that cosmically I wasn't meant to catch a fish, I wasn't meant to trick it into thinking it was lunchtime and disguising my hook into its food, I wasn't meant to use my powers as a human, to take advantage of a fellow member of our natural world.
All this changed as I put that fish back in the water. I went to sleep feeling a mixture of happiness and guilt.
The following evening, the guilt had conveniently subsided. Its amazing what we can justify to ourselves as being acceptable when we are in pursuit of pleasure. Instead of my experience leading me to renouncing anything to do with fishing and selling my tackle because its quite obviously cruel, I went and bought a new reel, and some sharper, newer hooks, and some bait produced in a laboratory to help me attract fish into my area.
As we returned from the fishing shop, there was a little posse of people, lakeside, they needed my help. A duckling no more than a month old had been found with a fishing hook in its mouth.
I took my discorger and forceps over to see if I could be of any help, the duckling had its mouth firmly closed, its mother was flapping all around us, she was extremely distressed that her offspring was in danger. I was unable to help, and as a concerned camper took the duck to the vets, little did its mother know, that she would never see her baby again.
The duckling that had survived threats from Herons, Cats, Foxes, Minks and other survival issues had met its maker in the shape of a fisherman's hook.
The duck age one month old was put down at the vets, due to having a hook lodged in its stomach.
Nature is cruel, but I think humans are crueler. Will I fish again? The way I feel now I hope I never do, its cruel, it has to be.
But like I said, we are good at justification, turning a blind eye to whats important, to the truth. We conveniently forget things whilst in pursuit of our pleasures.
It seems nature has evolved to protect itself against itself, but not against us, the humans.
Here's a video to accompany this sad tale
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcqWyyHlCDA
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