Fishing for almost everyone

June 13, 2007

Now that the ice is off the lakes and ice augers and tip-ups are put away for a few months of summer, it’s time to think about other forms of piscatorial pursuits. Isaak Walton, in his “Compleat Angler” (the first published treatise on the art of fishing,) never dreamed of the means available today.
In Walton’s day there were no such things as nylon line, spinning reels or even bamboo poles. Walton’s angler used a heavy wooden pole, and if the fish was so feisty that it threatened to break the line, the angler simply tossed the pole in the water and let the fish wear itself out dragging it around.
Walton would marvel at the range of fishing methods and the equipment available today. Could he imagine a $10,000 bass boat rigged with GPS and fish finders? What Isaak Walton used was what today is the simplest rig of all-the “government pole,” a branch off a U.S. Forest tree and a piece of string with a hook and a worm or a grasshoper, and maybe a bit of stick or cork for a float. This method still works and all you need to buy is a hook which might cost a penny or a dime.

FISHIN’ DAZE
My brother Morton and I used to spend the summers outside New Buffalo, Michigan and ride the beach bus into Michigan City with our one-piece bamboo poles. You might ask how a couple of boys could get 12-foot bamboo poles armed with four hooks apiece onto a bus. We didn’t. The first aboard got a seat near the back, and held onto the poles outside the open window of the bus while the other took a seat closer to the front and held the other end of the poles. Eventually the driver made us stop doing that, as one isn’t supposed to have arms outside a moving bus.
We’d invest in a generous dozen minnows in a big coffee can and fish for perch off the lighthouse pier. The perch were so plentiful then that we sometimes caught two or even three at a time, yanking them out of the water. None were too small to keep and we have a memorable album photo showing us proudly holding up a stringer of many, many perch, none longer than six inches. Truly, even a four-inch perch gives a kid a lifetime memory of summer joy.
When I moved to the U.P., I tried to continue in that childhood vein with a now segmented bamboo pole, and fish for Northern Pike. The bamboo pole, no reel, was no match for the powerful rush of a fierce pike, and we never landed one. I had to move up to the next step.
That was a fiberglass spinning rod and a Zebko 404 reel. The rod, now a collector’s antique, is still my favorite, but I’ve worn out a number of Zebco reels since.

FISHING STYLES
There’s a form of angling for anyone with the patience to try to outsmart a fish. Fishing piers are settled with rows of lazy fishermen with their lawn chairs, sun hats, tackle boxes, bait buckets, rods and six packs, whiling away a sunny afternoon in quiet contemplation.
Other fishermen anchor in a row boat in the mists of early morning, hoping to catch a crappie at breakfast time.
The more ambitious - those willing to make the investment - move slowly through the water, powered by an outboard or a silent electric trolling motor, as they expand their range in search of that hole where the fish hang out.
Here in the U.P., if you can smear yourself with enough bug dope and are not afraid of sinking into a quaking bog or quicksand, you can explore those hidden streams, isolated beaver dams, and numerous pristine lakes off all beaten paths in search of brook trout.
Fly fishing is the most rewarding and is the epitome of the fisherman’s high art. The true fly fisherman finds the stream, studies the water, watches what bugs the fish are rising to eat, and on the spot ties an artificial fly with bits of thread, yarn or feather to mimic that bug and trick a trout into a strike.
That sort of fishing is the pinnacle of the sport. Such anglers seldom even keep the fish they catch. They go through stages: first catch the most fish, then catch the biggest fish, and finally catch the smartest fish—and release it to be caught another day.

STRESSED FISH
I personally am fearful of falling on slippery rocks in a rushing stream. I think that spraining an ankle while deep in the woods is an opportunity to become bear bait. And I’m not a catch-and-release fisherman. Although there may be sport in it for the angler, it just torments the fish. A significant percentage of fish are so stressed that even if they are not injured, will die. I’m content to catch a meal, and it’s a disappointment if I land that fish on the first cast; for with dinner on the stringer, it’s time to go home.
I have a friend who owns a bass boat one of those fishing machines with a motor that gets you quickly to the secret spot recorded on the GPS. The goal is to get to the fish quickly and catch the limit. It helps to have some licensed guests or kids along so their legal limit can be added to the boat’s total for the day.
Whatever your choice of method whether you fish from the pier only on sunny afternoons or in heavy rain on the lake - it’s a wonderful sport. Sharpen those hooks, buy that license, and enjoy.

Visit the web site, www.hu.mtu.edu/~hlsachs, where you can listen to two stories, read a third, read reviews, and find links to the publishers of my books.