Mon 24 Oct 2005
Catch and Release Not a Keeper
By Rod Transom
Life isn’t fair. Just ask the unfortunate cabbie who picked me up from the airport the other day. No, I didn’t stiff him, but let’s just say the ride was free and I now have a ’92 Caprice hidden in my garage. If life isn’t fair for humans, then why should it be fair for fish?
I’m not a big fan of fishing, but I do find myself standing in some river several times a year. Half my time is spent untangling lines and the other half is spent cursing the elusive fish. Why, you ask, do I continue fishing if I don’t enjoy it? Because back in the early 90s it became trendy to go fly-fishing, get back to nature, test your meddle against these squirmy river dwellers. I bought into the whole fad and now I’m stuck with it.
I went out and bought the $300 pole, the $85 pole case, the $150 waders, the $90 vest, the fluffy thing that attaches to the vest to hold flies, forceps, clippers, Swiss Army knife, various other cases, do-dads and a hat. I spent more than a mortgage payment on this stuff, and I’m not one to waste, so I stick with it. But I don’t enjoy it, especially with this damn rule called “catch and release.”
I spend anywhere from 4-6 hours a day standing in muck, water up to my waist, for a chance to catch a three foot steely, and you’re telling me I’ve got to throw it back? Three foot steelies never bite my bait, and I’m lucky after an entire day to land a five inch rainbow, and I’m supposed to release the little bugger? Yeah, I release him alright, right onto the bank of the river. I don’t eat the fish that I catch, don’t like fish, too fishy. I let the earth dwellers along the banks take care of that, but I’ll be damned if I throw the little stripers back in the river so they can waist my bait a second time.
Imagine if hunters had a rule similar to catch and release? You fork out the cash for some sweet Winchester, a tree stand, a sweet set of camouflaged duds and then you set your cross hairs on some unsuspecting buck nibbling on corn out in the back forty. You lightly trigger one off and watch that stupid four-legger take off like a deer with a bullet in its heart. You follow the blood trail to the lifeless carcass and immediately extract the bullet, perform CPR, sew up the wound and set him on his way. It doesn’t work like this, let me tell you, I tried. Damn thing nearly ripped off my lower lip during mouth to mouth.
No, if I’m going to lay out my hard earned money in order for my friends to allow me to hang out with them, then something must die in the process, or at least suffer. Why should fish get a second chance? That cabbie didn’t.
posted by Draculich 11:16 AM
Comments:
Sounds a little fishy to me
# posted by Mark Troutner : 4:35 PM