Posted 3/2/2007 2:12 PM (#242472) Subject: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 434
Location: searchin for 50
I am a fisherman for life.
I will always be a fisherman.
It is not something I do
It is who I am.
Fishing is not an escape.
It is where I belong, where I am supposed to be.
It is not a place,
but a lifelong journey.
It is a passage my father showed me
and I will show to others.
When you understand all of this
you will know me and we will fish together.
This was an ad that I found I don't know who did it so I don't know who to give credit to. It rings very true though. Enjoy.
Beaver
Posted 3/2/2007 4:56 PM (#242502 - in reply to #242472) Subject: RE: Fisherman for Life
So true, so true.
As I find myself having more difficulty moving around, the first objects on the auction block will be my deer hunting gear. I can't put up stands, maintain them or walk to and from the hunting grounds. Will I miss it? Definitely.
The guns I'll keep, because I may get an invitation to take my daughter hunting during gun season to kill a doe somewhere. The others, I'll keep because I'm an American, and I might need them someday.
I look at my fishing equipment, everything from bluegill rigs to the heavy artillery, and I know that though I may not fish as many hours for muskies, walleyes, bass and panfish are still fun to catch and aren't as hard to catch from a physical standpoint.
I recall when my dad was in his 60's, still a few years before his stroke. We would fish together for walleyes every morning and evening, and he would rest and occupy his time in some way as I flailed for muskies during the day.
After he suffered his stroke, he didn't fish for years. We literally dragged him "up north" on vacation one fall, and now that I had a boat that he could step in and out of, he felt at ease enough to give it a try.
It played out in a way that only God could orchestrate. It was sunny, a light breeze was blowing out of the SW at just the right angle for a nice, slow, length of the lake drift, along the weed edge and drop off.
First we motored past the old homestead which made him cry. Then I took him on a tour to show him the 50 new million+ dollar "cabins" that now adorned the lake shore since his last visit. He shook his head in disgust.
So we began our fishing drift with Lindy Rigs and leeches, and every once in a while I would make a cast at the appropriate time. I had 2 blow-ups on top-waters and one swirl at boatside that got us both wet.
"You and those #*^@ muskies!", he said. "Why don't you catch one sometime and get it over with?" followed by chuckles and more ribbing.
During the next 2 hours, we managed to catch about 20 smallies and enough walleyes to take back to the cottage that we were renting for a nice fish fry.
As we neared the boat landing, he looked at me with tears running down both cheeks and told me, "I thought that I would never catch a fish again in my life.", and we hugged, which happened maybe one or two other times in my adult life.
The next day the weather was exactly the same. I told him,"I'm going muskie fishing for a few hours, and then we'll head back to the old lake and do it again." He turned down my offer and chose to spend alternating time between the chair on the pier and the pine log swing on the shore. I guess that he wanted his last trip to be one to remember, and he had it the day before. He never fished again, and died last year. He fished when he with his father and family growing up, and took a different boat ride across The English Channel on D-Day, but like Forest Gump, he never talked about it much. He was the fater of nine, worked 2 jobs, and we always took 2 weeks "up north" for vacation, and I remember that he always came back with fish to eat. Walleyes in the morning, and then 2 hour shifts with alternating crew members for jumbo perch on North Twin back in the hay day, then back after walleyes in the evening.
He never understood me chasing muskies, or why I released any walleyes over 20 inches, but he was a fisherman through and through. Before Green Boxes, he used to drag a mason line with a small window weight on the end and markings along the line so he could watch the angle of the line to determine the depth of the water as he rowed a 14' wooden boat with a 7.5 HP Evinrude hooked to the stern, and kept his eye on the shore and the rod tip at the same time as he triangulated his way around out in what I thought was the middle of nowhere.
He was a fisherman for life, and I hope that as the days pass, that I will be what he was.
Beav
Posted 3/2/2007 6:27 PM (#242516 - in reply to #242472) Subject: Re: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 32885
Location: Rhinelander, Wisconsin
Raider150, thanks for touching on the heart of the matter, so to speak. Good to do that once in awhile!
Great follow-up, Beav. Sometimes we forget what this is really all about in our rush to catch a bigger Muskie. Some days for me it's about the way a crappie takes the bobber down, or the smile on my Grandson's face when a bluegill ends up flopping on the floor of the Ice Shack. I've been a fisherman since I could walk, thanks to my parents and luck because of where we lived. Fishing has been my life.
Lately, some people from points east and north have been pegging stones at me for no particular reason other than they can, all of which has me a little baffled, a bit troubled, and a bit amused. It's such an odd waste of energy; I can't imagine taking this all so seriously one has to attempt to make enemies out of folks with whom one has never had the pleasure of casting an hour or two.
I've never met most of these guys. I actually talked to one of these folks in the MuskieFIRST booth for awhile at the Milwaukee show, yet he decides recently to belittle the Hideout for no reason at all as if it's some place to be ridiculed; far as I know he's never been here. Hard to tell though, some days folks show up after dark, plug in the boat, and disappear the next morning leaving the Hideout as they found it. Some visit us in the house, and every time a stranger enters and sets for awhile, a friend leaves. Dammit, that's what this is ABOUT far as I know, and that's a fact. Might not seem that way to some, and for those folks I feel a genuine sorrow, life's too short to make virtual enemies over your personal perception of a freaking fish. Too serious and you miss the whole gig, and life sorta slides right by. And you know the funniest thing? The muskies...they don't much care either way.
Fishing and hunting mellows the mind, is medicine for the soul, makes friendship bonds tighter, and families closer. I choose to value the experience much more than my quarry, yet enter the wild with my rifle or bow over my shoulder or hit the water with the rods at the ready with the utmost respect for the out of doors and all the critters in it. But, I won't worship any one of them, that's reserved for a much higher power.
Beav has it right. Thanks for the story. Bet your daughter will someday write one similar about her Dad.
Muskies and Muskie fishing these days are interesting because of the attitude and passion sometimes surrounding the sport, but when it gets right down to it, it's about the fishing, not the catching. I hope to have a few years left in this journey, all of which I intend to spend with my friends and my family, fishing and hunting every minute I can. I've met a ton of good people through this place, and hope that everyone visiting here finds the virtual furniture comfortable, and can share a good story or two now and again. All the muskie knowledge and information in the world won't do much for the memories when I'm 89, but good sunsets, an occasional bad storm on the water I can't escape, good friends and a muskie in the net now and then might just get it done.
Posted 3/2/2007 7:23 PM (#242520 - in reply to #242516) Subject: Re: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 2865
Location: Brookfield, WI
Raider that's a nice find.
Beaver and Steve,
I almost feel like I'm a little out of line posting after those two elegant posts, especially Beaver's. I do a lot of screwing around here, and considering my brief history as a fisherman, the term "Fisherman for Life" could hardly be applied to me at the present time. Yet in my dealings with some of the people that visit here to share and learn, I've found the fishermen I've been lucky enough to interact with are in general, caring, emotional people. They have their egos and strong opinions, and they can, in some cases can be insufferable. Maybe the people you mention fit that bill, Steve, though I don't know to whom you refer.
In my limited experience, however, I've seen a connection between fishermen that I did not and don't see in the world of golf, or in the world of business where I make my living. Perhaps it's a fundamental thing that comes with pursuing a passion that takes place in a natural setting, something akin to the family emotions Beaver so eloquently put forth in his post.
There's definitely something to it.
Kevin
Beaver
Posted 3/2/2007 7:33 PM (#242522 - in reply to #242472) Subject: RE: Fisherman for Life
Wasn't it that Higher Power who said what I left on that little snippet that I left in my bedroom at The Hideout.....
When I was hungry, you gave me to eat.
When I was weary, you gave me a place to sleep.
When I was thirsty, you gave me to drink.
(When I was boatless, you took me fishing)
"Lord when did I do these things for you?"
I say, if you have ever done any of these things for any of your brothers, you have done them for Me.
Steve, you're are a wise, kind, generous and very knowlegable man in many respects. Afterall, you allow me to be your friend.
Let them throw stones. I know that in my life, I will be hard-pressed to find a better man, much less a fisherman. I'm proud to call you my friend, and anyone who rips on you, obviously has never met you. I'm looking forward to growing old fishing with you. Whether fishing walleyes, panfish or any other species, you, like me, enjoy multi-species angling because God created more than one species of fish for more reasons than feeding muskies.
Posted 3/2/2007 7:37 PM (#242524 - in reply to #242520) Subject: Re: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 32885
Location: Rhinelander, Wisconsin
Hopeful,
You already fit the furniture, sir. And, it fits you. Anyone who buys Sue a glass of wine and talks fishing for awhile without even hardly knowing her rates as perfect for the back deck in the Tuffy anytime. Thanks again for the story of the first year of your Journey Muskie, may all be fortunate enough to have a chance to meet you.
Beav, we've been knocking about this crazy sport for a very long time, and the Walking Bulls are still standing. My goal is to meet 'em all and have a beer by the Fire Ring, and have them leave the Hideout friends. Hopeful would understand this, I never learned how to golf.
Posted 3/2/2007 10:40 PM (#242562 - in reply to #242506) Subject: RE: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 392
Location: KY
Beaver
Your post and picture helped me appreciate how blessed I am to have a father that showed me how to fish. My father never chased musky even though he grew up in Philips WI. He doesn’t fish much any more. He prefers to hike at least twice a week.
The first pictures are from a trip we made together on a local river in 02. We were there before sunrise. We slipped the canoe in with fog rising off the water. He paddled upstream several miles while I fished.
The second picture is my father with my daughter this past summer and her first fish.
Thanks for sharing,
Bruce
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Posted 3/3/2007 6:20 AM (#242577 - in reply to #242562) Subject: RE: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 40
Nice story Beaver, it reminded me of my Uncle.
He was a marine and led a carefree life hunting and fishing. 24 years ago he took my brothers, cousins and I up to Lake of the Woods out of Sioux Narrows camping in the islands. We would just jig for Walleyes, that is what we did. Jig, Jig, Jig. He was always scolding us for something trivial, we would just laugh. We made it an annual trip for a while until we all got "apparantly" too busy. We deer hunted together every fall and I now sit in his stand. Hopefully he is smiling down at how we are still carrying on the tradition. Unfortunately, his 2 pack a day habit finally cought up with him and soon was diagnosed with terminal cancer. One weekend we were up at his place getting it cleared out so he could sell it. At this point he couldn't talk and could not hear. As I was loading stuff into a dumpster, he walked out a wrote a note that said "Take me to Canada one last time". I told him I would talk it over with my wife, not actually thinking it would happen. Two days later we got the call that he was in ICU and it was time to pay last respects. We went down to see him and he looked aweful. When we came into his room, he looked at me, then my wife, then back to me. He lifted his hands and made the motion like he was reeling in a fish. My wife told him (as I was sobbing), you can't go to Canada if you are in the hospital. He smiled and gave a thumbs up. The doctors told us if he made it through the night, he would probably stroke out on the operating table. The next morning I heard he was in ER and didn't hear anything until my grandma called and said the "He wanted to know when we were leaving for Canada". So, we took him back up to Sioux Narrows one last time. A few days later we headed out with all the paperwork we needed in case he passed away. My aunts and uncles thought we were crazy, after all he could die up there. I thought, "What a way to go". We went out two days. The first day on the same old fishing spot we spent many evenings at watching the sun go down, he caught a 7lb walleye. He line wrapped around the tip a few times and was still able to get it into the boat. At the time, I thought WOW, nice fish, how lucky. After fighting that fish, he was down for the day. The next day, we set out again. This time to a spot I had found, we dropped anchor and started jigging, of course. Pretty soon, his rod has a big bend in it, and he pulls up a 7.5 lb walleye. It must have been divine intervention. There wasn't a dry eye in the boat. The smile he had on his face was priceless. He wrote me a quick note and said I learned well. We made it back to the US and he passed away two weeks later. He taught me to fish and hunt, for that I am so grateful. I am now taking my children up there each year for the same experience. After he passed away, he gave me his prized Browning Rifle and I am now hunting out of his stand with his rifle. I think of him each time I go to LOTW and each crisp fall morning in his stand. I know that old marine is proudly looking down with a smile on his face, and probably scolding me for something. Thanks for taking the time to read it and remember to live each day to the fullest, you never know when your time will become limited.
Edited by cnnemusky 3/3/2007 6:30 AM
Beaver
Posted 3/3/2007 8:23 AM (#242588 - in reply to #242472) Subject: RE: Fisherman for Life
Great story. Thanks for sharing it with us.
The key word in the subject of this discussion is the last one, LIFE.
We all go through it, and hopefully we do the best that we can.
We all screw up from time to time, but I'm sure that most of us don't make a habit of it....unless something terrible happens, like someone cuts us off.
One thing that I've learned, and that is getting more apparent every day, is that we shouldn't sweat the small stuff. It just makes us smaller people....spiritually.
I should be the last one to talk. I've been know to swear at the top of my lungs over trivial crap. I have taken out my problems on others instead of dealing with them. It seems that only as we near death, and we are one step closer every day like it or not, do we take the time to stop and focus and look at the life that has raced past us.
Shoulda-Coulda-Woulda.....
I woke up this morning with my dayghter laying near the foot of the bed with the dog, TV still on and all of us still dressed. Seems we fell asleep after watching The Badger Hockey game. I sat there for an hour and just looked at her. She's my only kid, and a lot like me. I hope and pray that she inherited the good parts, and not the parts that I regret.
I don't know how much time that I have left, none of us do. So make the most of the minutes. Try to be a nice guy, it's not so hard. Treat others with some kindness and surprise the heck out of them. Think about tomorrow, but live for today. Hug your kids and tell them that you love them, and apologize for being a jerk. If you have a wife, do the same. Because sooner or later we all end up alone and scared. And if you think that it can't happen to you, you're only fooling yourself or you have an ego problem. Count your blessings and thank God for every one of them, because they could all be mere memories tomorrow.
Was I a fisherman for life. Yes I was, and proud of it. That is just a past-time.
But, was I a good man, father, role model? I apperently don't get high marks in the husband catagory, but all I can do is try my best every day, and I can find some relief in knowing that God wants something good for me and my daughter. Something great. I don't know what it is, but He doesn't hand you crap except to wake you up so you can get your bearings again. Because we all wind up off course for different reasons during our lives. Just hope that the people in your life can over-look your faults and that you can do the same.
Being a fisherman for life is a great thing. But being a good person for life will carry much more meaning at the end than how many fish you have caught.
Beav
Posted 3/3/2007 10:33 AM (#242605 - in reply to #242590) Subject: Re: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 5
Thanks for posting Raider 150, good stuff.
One comment regarding throwing stones. I have noticed in the competitive environment of fishing, guiding, etc. Some people bash others either on the message boards (public) or behind their back (private). It's always been my belief these people believe if you tear other people down it will raise you up. Unfortunately, to me anyway, it makes the stone throwers look silly and lowers their status in my book.
Posted 3/3/2007 11:53 AM (#242613 - in reply to #242605) Subject: Re: Fisherman for Life
Posts: 32885
Location: Rhinelander, Wisconsin
Hey, we are all supposed to be Muskie anglers, and are, or at least should be, in this together. Fisherman for Life means as much to me as it obviously does to Beav and others. I try to do what I can to pass it forward. Seems to me almost everyone here who posts regularly try to do exactly that.
Most importantly, this thread isn't about one guy (especially me), or any one place to talk muskies. It's about what drives us all as Muskie anglers, how we found ourselves here today, and where we go with it in the future.
Recently, I spoke with an associate who has accepted a position with Angler's Legacy, a national mission from http://www.anglerslegacy.org. Dave Landahl spoke to me about how angler's participation is directly proportional to fisheries management and our fisheries' future. Over 80% of fisheries programs in this country come from taxes on fishing related products and license sales. The future of fishing is literally in our hands.
Not all of the folks who would join us here have a Dad like Beav's or mine. Take someone fishing, introduce a new angler to the sport. Most new anglers remain Lifelong Fishermen once they have been introduced by folks like us, and pass the tradition on to their children and friends. Teach new anglers the hows and whys of conservation and proper muskie handling and they will pass that newly learned ethic on. Bring 'em on up to the Hideout, join Capt'n Koep, Joel, Mike, Andrew, and many others willing to share a spot in the rig and their homes, let them see the courtesy and good will offered by SO many folks in this sport. That's exactly why we offer the MuskieFIRST outings.
I mentioned the stone tossing because I feel this strange and baffling behavior presents, in my opinion, a strong negative influence within the sport, and more importantly, to those looking to join us in our madness. Obviously, people will be people, but simply ignoring negative influences amounts to tacit approval if one is to accept the challenge of Angler's Legacy; a challenge many of us had taken up long before Take Me Fishing was formed.
Let's go fishing.
The wooden nickel was a token we made and handed out at the '84 Muskie Symposium and dozens of MI events in the 80's. On the other side, it said "Have one on Tuffy Boats".
OK, I'm off the soap box now.
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