Why Fish Matter

No matter who you are, when and where you assumed consciousness, or even why - it's likely that you became aware of fish shortly after that. Think about it; is there anyone you've EVER met, at any time, under any circumstance, who doesn't know what a fish is?

What I'm describing is not a matter of coincidence, but rather the inevitable realization of one of Mother Earth's most valuable and majestic resources. For instance, you'll find direct references to fish in iconic ancient theological texts, early science/biology archives, etc., and especially on the tongues of legendary hunters and gatherers.

Symbolic meaning of fish in history:

• In China, fish are symbolic of fidelity and unity. An iconic fish to the Chinese, the koi, often swim together in pairs and may mate exclusively. Thus, fish likenesses (statues, charms) are often given as wedding gifts in representation of perfect union. Fish are also representative of fertility and abundance, due to their reproduction speed and volume.

• In ancient Celtic lore, the symbolic meaning of fish (particularly salmon) encompassed wisdom, knowledge, prophecy, and inspiration. Celts believed the salmon gained wisdom from eating sacred hazel nuts from the Well of Segais, or "well of knowledge". Also, they believed consuming the salmon would pass—on the knowledge from the well onto themselves.

• In Christianity, the fish is a symbol of abundance and faith as observed in the Biblical story of fishes and loaves of bread that multiply to nourish all. Many Biblical references of Christ and his disciples as "fishers of men" (evangelists). Also, you've probably seen the popular "Jesus Fish" bumper sticker. 

• In ancient Norse cultures, the fish held meanings of adaptability, determination, and ultimately the flow of all life. Fish were observed displaying characteristics of adaptability in the wild, which these cultures respected and sought to embody themselves. Salmon were especially revered, due to their rigorous annual pilgrimage to their spawning grounds, swimming against the current for the entire journey.

Early fishing for survival:

• The first evidence of humans using tools to catch for food comes from specific archeological finds. They were barbed tools likely used as spears, and are approximately 90,000 years old. The evidence suggests that humans were already catching fish in the early Paleolithic Age. 

• It is proposed that about one-third of the pre-historic human population of hunter-gatherer societies subsisted on fish. Fishing was a staple Egyptian and Chinese civilizations.

• The first recoded fish recipe is from ancient China, dated 1300 BC, which was a fish salad based on marinated and spiced carp. 

• The Egyptians caught fish in shallow pools and tributaries along the Nile during times of territorial conflict and harsh weather conditions, as a means to sustain their animal protein resources.  

• Diodorus Siculus proclaimed that the Nile contains all varieties of fish, as it supplies the natives not only with abundant subsistence, but yields an abundance of resources necessary for salting (a means of sustenance preservation).

• In ancient times, the most significant achievement in the use of fish as a source of protein was the processing of hydrolyzed protein from fresh fish. To Romans, this product was known as liquamen. 

• Ancient Romans used ice mixed with seaweed to keep recently caught fish fresh. The ice was taken from the mountains near Rome, and the seaweed taken closely from where the fish were caught.

In keeping with the above, I refer to a poignant Wikipedia entry: "Hunting and gathering was humanity's first and most successful adaptation, occupying at least 90 percent of human history, and until 12,000 years ago, all humans lived this way." You see, fishing wasn't always simply about an excuse to dodge your spouse and drink beer, while hanging out with your buddies.

Important to consider are the universalities that have driven fishing for millennia. Just as Elk invoked hunting, or treasures attracted pirates, fish have always (ironically) been irresistible bait for human sport and consumption. Fish themselves are something that human life would be quite different without; now or whenever. Coincidence; I think not.

Today, about 1 billion people (largely in developing countries) rely on fish as their primary animal protein source. In 2010, fish provided more than 2.9 billion people with almost 20% of their intake of animal protein, and 4.3 billion people with about 15 % of said protein.

According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's 2011 National Survey of Fishing, Hunting and Wildlife-Associated Recreation, more than 40 million licensed anglers generate over $46 billion in retail sales with a $115 billion impact on the nation’s economy, creating employment for more than 828,000 people. Also, the culture is strong, as at least 60 million anglers have fished at some point over the past five-year period.

As you can see, fish are an historically iconic species of animal. With respect for all other species that have been integral to human existence thus far, fish are "kind of a big deal." They are also extremely resilient, as they've weathered the challenges of the fast growing world population, pollution, habitat infringement, and the massive global commercial fishing industry. From their numerous symbolic theological influences, to simply nourishing our bodies, they cannot be overlooked. How about a round of applause for fish...

Bluefish Bonanza: An Experience for the Ages

No matter your passion, calling, or craft, periodically there are times when things just seem to fall into place beautifully and you step back, look at your work and say, "I nailed it." Such experiences serve a dual purpose: they keep us going during times of discouragement, like a light at the end of an indiscernibly long tunnel; and once they're achieved—they recharge our inspiration batteries to full capacity. Considering how much of fishing is a matter of circumstantial chance, you learn to accept the uncertainty of when such things may occur, but your faith as a dedicated angler remains steadfast.

An iconic example of such a time took place for me, back in the early 90's. On what seemed to be a typical weekday, I stepped off the bus on the way back from middle school in Byram, CT, which is literally a stone's throw from the border of Westchester County, NY. As I walked through the crowded parking lot on the way toward my family's apartment, a red midsize sedan came screeching expediently toward my location with its horn blaring. Before I could make sense of the situation, the driver slammed on the brakes directly next to me and hopped out of the car. To my surprise, it was my uncle Steven, from my dad's side, screaming for me to "get in the car!" Alarmed, I asked him to explain, due to my immediate cause for concern. He smiled (almost deviously) and said "Have you ever been fishing before?!?" Wearing a smirk, I responded "Of course, Unc. Many times with you; remember?" With a piercing glare of determination he proclaimed "No you haven't. At least not like you're gonna today. Now get in the damn car!"

Apprehensively, I tossed my book bag in the backseat and strapped myself tightly into the shotgun position of the car, as I knew his driving would only become more erratic. For the next five minutes, as he blew through red traffic lights and skidded around narrow corners, I imagined what awaited us, that could be such an intense driving force behind his unwavering sense of immediacy.

Soon, we sped into Grass Island Park, which is actually a peninsula, along the southern part of coastal Greenwich, CT. After speeding passed the guard gate with his ID held out the window (as if the guard could actually see it), Uncle Steve made a hard right and gunned it toward the far west corner of the park, just beyond the boat club. Like a Hollywood stunt driver, he slammed on the brakes and halted us diagonally, yet almost perfectly into an empty parking space. As the excessive G-forces quickly subsided, he pushed me out of the passenger seat and screamed, "Follow me!"

Click photo map to enlarge:

After hopping a short guard rail and negotiating some thick green brush, we found ourselves standing on the small muddy shore of an isolated estuary. To our left was the shoreline, about thirty meters straight out were the boat docks, and to our right was a small channel that opened to the Long Island Sound. It was then that I realized why my uncle was so high strung; the saltwater in front of us looked as if it was literally boiling. This surreal sight was the result of notoriously aggressive bluefish engaged in a feeding frenzy on bunker (menhaden), their primary food source. The frenzy was so extreme that the bunker were literally beaching themselves at our feet, in order to escape the jaws of their exceedingly aggressive hunters. Throughout virtually every square inch of topwater within sight, there was beautiful chaos in motion.

We shared a set of two spinning setups; one with a plug (a lure that resembles a fish), and the other with a single hook. Of course, both setups were equipped with wire leaders, as the sharp toothed bluefish can easily bite through any standard fishing line with ease. The results were effin' RIDICULOUS! For what seemed like hours, without exaggeration, we landed countless amounts of ferociously fighting bluefish without pause. Periodically swapping setups back and fourth, we kept the process more interesting. When Uncle Steve had the plug setup, he was like a worker on an assembly line cranking in product after product. Simultaneously I’d reach down to the water’s edge, grab an available beached bunker, bait my hook, cast it out and BINGO: fish on! Two of the (many) captivating moments of the event were when Uncle Steve landed TWO blues on ONE plug at the same time; and when I hooked into a monster that had me sliding across the mud shore in my basketball sneakers.

Needless to say, the experience I’ve just described to you was and always will be quintessentially archival in the mind of a man who’s in love with fishing. The timing was excellent, not just in terms of the situation itself, but because I got to experience it as a wide eyed teenager, which added some experiential enormity to the event. To see and participate in such an extreme food chain—relations process was as humbling as it was exhilarating. Mind you, this was well before the days of popular cell phone ownership, so a BIG shoutout goes to Uncle Steve for choosing to temporarily leave such an extreme angling opportunity, in hopes that he could quickly find me and bring me along for the “ride.” As I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, the way a young person experiences fishing may significantly impact the manner in which it becomes a part of his or her life later on. For me, this one was a tattoo on my soul, from the moment it began.

Traditional Fish Cleaning

To “clean” a fish means to prepare it for preservation, cooking, or immediate consumption. It’s a fundamental component of sustenance fishing, and there are MANY styles and techniques for doing so.

Reasonably, there is a significant difference between a commercial fishing boat that yields a thousand animals per day, and a lone traveller looking to score a day’s dinner. Therefore, fish cleaning means and methods very greatly.

From my experience, the older the technique—the more intimate and direct it feels. As I’ve mentioned earlier, much of my enjoyment of fishing involves reflecting on its past. Thus, I’m always intrigued by traditional and REALLY old-school fishing tricks and tactics.

I’ll admit—I’m not crazy about ice fishing. Typically, I prefer warm weather, no matter what I’m doing. Still, I respect the depth of history it has in arctic regions. By imagining the conditions and challenges they faced, as long ago as they did, it warms my chest like a dose of brandy from a St. Bernard’s rescue flask. Regardless of what you’re passionate about, periodically remembering to appreciate its origin may revitalize the very passion itself.

The gentleman in the video below does an excellent job of species-specific cleaning of a yellow perch. Please listen carefully to his narration as the video plays. Also, keep in mind that his method is based on a deeply rooted hunter-gatherer tradition, which is well refined. 

The gentleman in the video above does an excellent job of species-specific cleaning of a yellow perch. Please listen carefully to his narration as the video plays. Also, keep in mind that his method is based on a deeply rooted hunter-gatherer tradition, which is well refined.

Beyond the obvious tutorial aspect of this video, is the humility and respect the instructor humbly embodies. There’s a sincere signal of significance that he believes in what he does. Believing in what you do FAR exceeds how you may actually do it, regardless of what it is that you're doing. Fishing = winning, all day.

An Ode to Ultralight Fishing

Ultralight fishing is one of my favorite methods of angling. The idea is: to use the lightest tackle available, while attempting to catch the largest fish possible. It's essentially a combination of strategy, leverage, and both. When conducted effectively, ultralight fishing can be quite exhilarating. The reward is like lifting/moving a block of concrete with only a few strands of hair and a quarter-sized pulley. Also, it requires that the angler to be extremely wary of minute mechanical and atmospheric details involved in landing fish. 

Much of the popular appeal of ultralight fishing is the enhanced/magnified connection you feel with the hooked fish. For example, fighting a 24-pound striped bass, with a nine-foot tuna rod and wire line is boring. There is no apparent sense of challenge, and it doesn’t broadcast or transfer subtle vibrations or leverage changes back and fourth between the fisherman and the fish. Conversely—hooking that same 24-pound striper with a six-foot pole, twelve-pound test, and a light 9-bearing spinning reel is exhilarating.

There is also a broad potential for transferability of ultralight fishing, among numerous platforms, from oceanic sharks to creek chub. No matter the expected size of the catch, using the lightest possible tackle increases both the challenge and potential reward of the experience. Plus, as an auxiliary fringe benefit package, the gear will likely cost a bit less (since it’s smaller), the weight of your total excursion load will be decreased, and there are ALWAYS bragging rights that go along with large fish landed on light tackle.

For me, there is a matter of situational context when I go fishing. What I mean is, I try and place myself in a time and place where fishing embodied a definition other than recreation. Imaging a father trying to feed his family, or an explorer looking to secure sustenance throughout his travels. In situations of necessity, luxury tends to be absent. Ultralight tackle is essentially a modern version of rudimentary fishing tools used many years ago.

Surely, as a dedicated angler, I’m susceptible to the lure of “big game.” Someday, I hope to sit tightly strapped in a fighting chair at the back of a boat—agonizing as I hit the 60-minute mark of my battle with a great white shark. I’d love to go back to central Texas and launch weighted frozen half-chickens toward the bottom of deep rivers, in search of 200 pound alligator gar. Still, there is a serene romanticism that remains associated with ultralight fishing. Whether fishing an ocean, river, pond, brook, sea, or lake; there will always exist a specific stream of consciousness that flows from the Zen of ultralight fishing. Peace be with you.

Third-Party Perspective: An Interview About Fishing

Recently, I had the pleasure of meeting with an individual who centers his life and livelihood around fishing. To avid fisherman and occasional weekend warriors alike, he and his seaworthy vessel are well known throughout Westchester County, NY and Fairfield County, CT. Please read below for a summary of our conversation:

Please (briefly) introduce yourself.

My name is Captain Kevin Reynolds, of the Snow Goose 2, out of Port Chester, NY. I was born and raised on the Greenwich, Connecticut side of the Byram River, which separates NY and CT.

When did you first discover an enjoyment for fishing? What influenced/caused it?

I've always loved fishing, from the time my dad would take me out on Long Island Sound for flounder—and along the Byram River for sunfish.

What was your motivation for acquiring the Snow Goose II?

I bounced around doing various jobs, from cooking to carpentry. I always did well, but never really loved what I was doing. The last job I had before my fishing career began was Island Caretaker for the Greenwich YMCA. It was there that I met my wife-to-be, and realized we couldn’t raise a family on our current income. At that point, I decided to give fishing a shot. It started out quite well and has grown annually for 20 years now. Initially, we started with a 24' Carolina Skiff and progressed to our current 50' Gilliken: the Snow Goose 2.

What do you want people to experience from a trip aboard your fishing vessel? 

Western Long Island Sound is not necessarily a fishing mecca, so personality and service are key to maintaining a quality fishing business. My goal, for each trip, is to provide everyone aboard a safe, fun day on the water. Educating and helping others about fishing is also quite rewarding.

What concerns, if any, do you have regarding the charter fishing industry?

The biggest concern I have for the business of recreational charter fishing is the increase in regulation. State and federal government mandate acceptable fish sizes, fluctuating bag limits, and required equipment inventory for my vessel. Many of these policies are created by bureaucrats, with little or no experience with fish, fishing, or seamanship. Unfortunately, those with acquired knowledge and actual hands-on-experience tend to go unheard. One new regulation set to take effect in 2016 will cost me $20,000, on top of all other standard season-starting costs. No real explanation for it, as they just say it's better.

Your closing thoughts...

Regardless of what may come in this ever-changing industry; for me, it's still better than commuting to work by train....

Speaking with Captain Reynolds was an enriching experience. His views were particularly interesting and extremely credible, coming from someone with decades of experience in providing quality fishing opportunities for thousands of people. He had no idea that I'd previously been aboard the Snow Goose 2 (anonymously), but I speak from completely unbiased experience when I give it two thumbs-up. Consider viewing his website and perhaps even spending an afternoon out on the water with him and his crew. I'm confident you'd enjoy it.

How To: An Emergency Land Navigation Tutorial

I've always appreciated the saying, "It's not about the destination; it's about the journey." Surely, stopping at a random stream, pond, or pier to open the car trunk, grab your collapsible-pole and throw a few casts is entertaining, but a strategically planned trip is a core element to a larger plan to simply "get away from it all." A big part of my joy of fishing is the extent to which it’s actually an expedition, rather than merely an activity. From the initial conceptualization of the intended trip—to dropping your bags and flopping on the couch back home, fishing trips are excursions.

That being said, what unfortunately happens far too often are people becoming lost outdoors. Sometimes they forget their modern devices; sometimes said devices fail. Having even basic knowledge of traditional land navigation techniques could mean the difference between life and death.

The most efficient ways to figure-out a situation are through the simplest channels available, and with the fewest required resources. The Shadow-Tip Method of determining direction is an excellent example. It can be conducted in most environments, and is extremely accurate. Please refer to the following step-by-step tutorial:

• Preparation of the platform (area): Find a flat, level clearing. Be sure to choose a spot that provides vivid shadow projection.
• Gathering of materials: You’ll need a rigid stick (about the circumference of your larger thumb and approximately as long as your dominant arm—from elbow to finger tip), and two marble-sized stones
• Construction/arrangement of materials: At the center of the chosen clearing, place the stick firmly into the ground, perpendicular to the surface. Place the first stone at the tip of the projected shadow. Wait (by assisted timer, or counting out-loud) 12-15 minutes (12 for assisted; 15 for counting).
• Device operation: After the determined period of time, place the second stone at the tip of the shadow’s new location. Remove the stick from the ground (or use a second straight stick of equal/greater length) and trace/draw a straight line between stone #1 and stone #2. Trace/draw another line perpendicular the existing.
• Deciphering of device: The first line you’ve drawn is the west-to-east line (stone #1 will always represent west).  From it, you can determine your north/south accordingly.
• Departure from point of navigation: After determining which direction to travel, pick an obvious fixed point in the visible distance (+/- a football field away) and tread directly toward it. Once there, look back to you point of origin, realign it with your location, and pick another fixed point in your direction of travel. Repeat until necessary for rescue or return.

The Shadow-Tip Method is a simple, yet potentially valuable skill to learn for anyone planning to spend a period of time in an isolated wilderness setting. With it—and literally NO man-made items required; you can determine direction accurately, which may be crucial. I recommend learning it, but I hope you’ll never need it.

Fly Fishing: A Popular Blog Topic

During the recent past, I visited a bunch of fishing blogs, as it's important to occasionally assess yourself amongst similar others, regardless of your craft. It was an interesting exercise, mainly because much of the intrigue of fishing is how open it is to interpretation. Along the way, this post about fly fishing caught me eye. It's from a really nice blog called AnglerWise, which is worth visiting for anyone interested in light-tackle fishing. 

The post, cleverly titled The Lure of Fly Fishing, provides a clear and simple, yet concise identification of fly fishing as a particular style of angling. Although some moderately technical terms are used, the post paints a picture anyone can understand. AnglerWise accurately explains how “Simply being in nature; waiting, listening, thinking, hoping are all parts of the magic of fishing.” Fly fishing is always a deserving topic of discussion and is well described within the post It's truly a poignant example of a culture within a culture. I've always appreciated the diversity in means and methods to catch fish, particularly between fly fishing and "conventional" angling. There is an artistic uniqueness to fly fishing, and an interesting history behind it.

According to AnglerWise, “there is one style which is the finest example of fishing: Fly fishing. Though complicated, it is an art that when learned, opens the door to the truest of fishing thrills.” I totally agree. Many times, I’ve seen how effective fly fishing can be in certain conditions and/or environments. Usually, when I'm stream-side with my 5’ ultralight rod and Penn Spinfisher SSG reel, throwing black rooster tails tied to four pound test, any fly fishermen nearby tend to draw more attention from the fish. Also, there's this old timer that frequents the beach near my dad's house, who trudges out to the sandbar in his chest waders during the outgoing tide, finesses his fly tackle—and ROUTINELY lands more stripers than any of his bait-casting neighbors on boats or adjacent piers.

You see, I AM a fisherman, and over the years—a handful of women have said I'm "fly", but I'm definitely not a fly fisherman. Still, I've learned much about its practice from older relatives, and am fortunate to have seen it in action. Although there are MANY approaches to angling, fly fishing is truly in a league of its own. It’s an entirely different approach than conventional fishing, and is rich in its own culture. As Anglerwise put it, "Watching a fly fisherman in a stream working the fly line back in forth over his target is like looking at a painting in a museum."

In life, a good way to appreciate something is to have respect for it. For me, fly fishing is a prime example. I don't practice it often, but it's always held my curiosity, and the post on AnglerWise rejuvenated my interest in it. Actually, while writing this post, I gradually began to realize that part of my retirement plan may indeed be unfolding before me.