It’s the “Great Unmentionable” the tacit understanding between sporting gentlemen that masks the awful truth, you don’t like the slimy, wriggly, bastards – and would never consider them table fare.
Watching a documentary on the human brain the other night, and it recounts the tale of a fellow that survived 89 days at sea, how he ate his way to good health (from near starvation) on a diet of raw fish liver and eyeballs.
“The liver’s were like dessert.”
I’m stuffing my gut with dinner while hanging on every word, knowing that tales of starvation always go better with a hearty meal, and the thought comes unbidden that this is where we went wrong.
This is why the fly fishing zealots clash horribly with the gentile participants, why Donny Beaver covets our water, and why the mainstream media panders to the Starbuck and Croissant crowd.
We need to eat our prey, maybe stomp life out of it midcurrent, with horrified tourists shielding the eyes of their children. We need to resurrect the “Bloodsport” label.
The only thing keeping this from being the best fish I’ve ever had,” he said, “is that I didn’t catch it.”
I eat fish – lots of them, it helps build my immunity to Mercury, lowers my IQ, and by all medical accounts, will proof me against heart disease, halitosis, and unsightly blemishes. It was the reason we went fishing as kids, to get out – to catch fish and eat them.
This urbane bloodless sport portrayed in contemporary fly fishing literature was never the intent, and when your Dad taught you – he never intended you to remain aloof and fish only dry flies, he was passing on the Hunter-Gatherer ethic – when you too had a family, you could provide…
In recent memory the only reference to fish as food, was from Buster Wants to Fish, wherein the most egregious of all crimes was committed – the posting of a recipe.. Fly fishing journalism, old and new – and only one stalwart willing to break with tradition.
Unconventional to be sure, but the release of endorphins that result from sheathing your Buck knife in the vitals of some hapless salmonid – may prevent you from seeking the same rush from the office, compliments of Mr. Kalashnikov, and his stamped metal wonder…
This type of stuff still sounds like an awful good time to me.
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Great, now I’m hungry.
On the other side, there’s nothing so hunter-gatherer about opening-day crowds slinging corn, powerbait, jarred eggs, dogfood, etc., at weak, mushy-fleshed fish just dropped in the stream who probably still haven’t eaten their first bug. In my neck of the woods, I think C&R is used to distinguish ourselves from those who treat the stream like a free meat market. You’re right though, it is way overdone.
It’s an interesting conundrum, most fly fishermen I’ve met don’t care for fish, yet wouldn’t hesitate to curl their lip at a fellow that decided to keep one.
Yeah, that mentality just does not make sense. Elitism?
Not so sure if gutting more fish would prevent the disaffected solitary white male from grabbing the assualt rifle. Don’t those guys usually have a history of torturing pets and bottle rocketing squirrels?
On the catch-and-release uber alles front, I have no problem killing a fish now and then to eat. People who get squeemish about it should understand that it’s simply cutting out the middle man, or the retailer who conveniently kills whatever meat you’re buying and puts it in a nice package so you don’t have to think about it.
My problem comes from the guys who take fish out of season, or who fill up their freezers with fish in season just because they can and wind up throwing most of it away due to freezer burn.
Could be they moved from fish to pets and squirrels because they were forced to by the disapproving stares from the parking lot…
Psycho-stuff has never been my strong suit – as my grasp of reality is tenuous at best..
Anyone who has backpacked into high mountain lakes and tried to live an entire weekend on granola and trail-mix, will realize that the Catch & Releasers are either frauds, hypocrites, or just too lazy to fish above the snowline. After a couple of days the REAL fisherman will want to gnaw on the dying trout while it is still wiggling in the pan.
Mama, that statement is not any less narrow-minded than those who shun catch & eat anglers.
Also, are there fish above the snow line? (Isn’t the snowline in the rockies like 12k feet? And a bit cold for fish?) Or are you talking about a seasonal snow line?
After a week in the bush, Rice-a-Roni is a rare feast, and trout are a staple in my backpacking diet.
Nice technical point ED, but one gets very BROADminded after about 3 breakfasts on granola. Snowlines are variable from the Andes to the Rockies, but we’re talking CALIFORNIA here, where EVERYTHING is variable. “Seasonal” is probably correct term. (a.) I’ve never met a C&R purist on the trails, and (b.)those orange license plates are nailed to trees about a dozen feet up to mark trail, so “seasonal” or not, we’re within the ballpark. RICE-a-RONI ? Couple of days on Granola, and a REAL fisherman would kill for that !
Fair enough. We dont have a permanent snow line at all in NY. I prefer to stuff my pack with freeze-dried meals. Lighter and probably not any more expensive than good granola. Maybe that’s just cause I dont trust myself enough to catch my dinner reliably.