A Fish Tale

I just got back from a five day visit up north with my in-laws. Good people. Small town and hot. Daytime high around 109 and overnight low of 92.

It was so hot the sweat on my bald head dried as it dripped down to my eyes.

Anyway, while I was there my father in-law and I went out on what is becoming our annual summertime fishing trip on the Kings River. We left early do avoid the heat and drove his huge truck the short distance down to the river. This truck is so large it must have three engines and it's own zip code. When we arrived at the bank of the river to launch the boat my father in-law let me get behind the wheel and back the truck and trailer into the water while he unhitched the boat. It was the first time I had actually intentionally drove a vehicle into a large body of water. Cool.

Once we got the outboard motor started we proceeded down the river looking for a good spot. We traveled for a while, long enough though for me to conjure mental images of myself as Tom Sawyer navigating the Mississippi as we made our way through the cool, early morning water. Of course Tom might have liked to have an outboard motor and I'm not so sure I'm cut out river life on a longterm basis.

We arrived at a spot that my father in-law was sure would be a good place to catch fish. When I asked him how he knew I reckoned(sorry, had to use it, we are afterall on the river) that he would say something about having come here since he was a boy he knew the good spots. Instead, he pointed to his newest gadget. Mounted on the front of his boat was a digital reading-radar detecting, rootin-tootin, high falootin fish finding toy. This thing actually shows you how many fish are directly under you, how big they are and how deep the water is. Wow.

I asked: "Is'nt that a little like cheating?"

He replied: "Nope. Besides, it aint like the the fish are going to tell the Fish and Game warden."

Point taken.

We sat in the boat for I don't know how long. Nothing. I looked at the radar thingy. There were plenty of fish around us. Tons of them. So many, they were literally jumping out of the water. One would jump to the left of us, then in front, then in back of us. Two fish flew out of the water, shook hands and went back in the water. They were literally jumping all around us. At one point there were so many of them a blue gill perch jumped into the boat, asked for a cigarette and then splashed back into the river.

It was embarassing and humorous.

There we were, two relatively intelligent men, with fishing poles, live bait, a boat and a freaking device that literally draws us a picture of where the fish are and we can't catch a thing. At one point everytime we heard a splash we would burst out laughing at each other. We scoped out a few more places, but to no avail. After a few hours of this we both decided to head back.

As we did, the Tom Sawyer imagery came back, though I'm sure Tom was a better fisherman than I. So I didn't catch any fish. Was that really the point?

As we made our way to shore I put my hand in the cool, smooth water and enjoyed the natural imagery and sounds around me. Maybe it was therapeutic just being out there. Or maybe it was the hynoptic ebb and flow of the river current that nearly rocked me to sleep a couple of times or that I cut a live nightcrawler in half with my own finger nail to bait my hook. Maybe just being witness to the abundance of bird species and eavesdropping on their conversations was enough. It could have been the simple pleasure of counting the number of frogs I could see in the water that calmed my spirit. Or maybe just the silence of merely sitting in the middle of an actual river far from concrete and paved roads trying to catch something to eat and laughing at myself all the while was the real point.

Be well all.