Humans are the only primates who fish. Monkeys, chimps, gorillas, baboons, orangutans They don’t fish… and that’s their loss. We humans have been spearing, casting nets, throwing in lines, and grabbing fish with our hands since back in the Paleolithic Age and that’s at least 40,000 years ago. I often wonder if Alley-Oop, or Ogg, or whoever first grabbed and ate the first fish way, way back could have realized that act was going to change human history and lead to Mrs. Paul’s, Long John Silvers and anchovies on pizza. Fishing even has religious references in the Bible, and many other sources, using terms as an allegory for the gathering and saving of souls. Fishing is a universal human experience. People all over the world catch and eat fish.
As with most other universal human experiences the need to excel, have the most, and be the best has led to fishing becoming a sport. We all admire the fisherman who catches the biggest fish. Recreational fishing has become a multi-billion dollar a year industry. Boats, engines, poles, rods, reels, nets, hooks, boots, bait and lures, and flies — the list goes on and the cash register goes cha-ching, cha-ching. There are magazines completely devoted to fishing and the list of books written about how to be a better fisherman is endless. There is an old saying “Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day; teach a man to fish and he will…” sit in a boat and drink beer all day. He will also buy a ton of accessories. It must be said, though, that for the true angler, there are big prizes to be won and professional sports fisherman travel the world over to compete and gain recognition.
I have been fishing three times in my life. When I was about five years old my Dad and two of my uncles took me out on Lake George in Michigan to fish. As I remember, I was fidgeting so much that they quickly took me back to the dock and deposited me back on shore. When I was about 12 or 13 I sat on the dock of my uncle’s cabin at Prince’s Lake and “fished” with a bamboo pole and line with a worm a hook angling at the bottom. I actually did catch a fish on this occasion. It was about four inches long and probably weighed in at about 3 ounces. I think my cousin wound up using it as bait. Finally, back in the 70s after I had been married a couple of years, my father-in-law, along with his younger brother and nephew took me fishing at a pay “lake’ on the south side of town. It was actually a gravel pit that had been filled with fresh water and stocked with fish from a fish farm. We sat in patio chairs on the bank, along with maybe 60 or so other people. There was a playground, a picnic area, and a snack bar with indoor bathrooms so some families were making a day of it. Again, I didn’t catch anything, but I had a great time listening to my father-in-law reminisce about his Kentucky boyhood, being in the Civilian Conservation Corp during his youth, and being a cook in the Navy during WWII. My father-in law Eddie Blue Collins was a wonderful storyteller. If storytelling was an athletic event in the Olympics, he would have been a gold medalist. It was my wife’s cousin, whose name was Mitch, who led the way by catching four fish, including a catfish that must have weighed 6 pounds. Ugliest thing I ever saw but it was BIG. There was a half hour period when Mitch just seemed to toss his line into the lake and just pull out a fish. This happened three times. Mitch was the fisherman that day. That was also the last time I fished. I heard on the news this morning that a couple from Arkansas won the lottery twice while on a fishing trip. First for a million bucks with one scratch-off ticket and then again for 50 thousand with another scratch-off ticket. They may be the most successful fishermen I ever heard about.
I really like fish. They are some of the best eating around. I’m really glad that our caveman ancestors decided to add fish to the human diet. I am, however, perfectly happy with a talented chef preparing my fish and a server bringing it to my table on a plate. That is my favorite kind of fishing.
snicewanger@yahoo.com
