At lunch today my brother described a recent fishing trip where he struggled with a 100-pound fish for an hour and a half. Since the fish was too big to mount, and not good to eat, once it’s given up and you could haul it into the boat, instead you let it go.
Somebody please explain to me why this is fun. (It’s certainly not too fun for the fish.) At least with traditional hunting, you either get some meat or a trophy to hang on the wall – or at least a creepy photo of you holding up the dead deer’s head by its antlers. Fishing, especially the kind my brother described, still baffles me totally.
There’s an element of the unknown coupled with anticipation — never knowing what will be on the other end. The challenge of catching something in such a vast pool. Feeling the strength of the fish battle you. I think much of it too is just being outdoors. I have many great memories growing up fishing with my dad – haven’t done it in years though.
Well, it is quite difficult to bag such a fish. A battle of strength and will. Some look at it like it says something about your character, you ability to persevere, etc. I bagged a marlin once, it was my height. I don’t remember what it weighed now, but it was an awfully, awfully tough fight. I was TOTALLY tuckered out by the time we landed it. I wouldn’t bother trying that again…