ok, try that ... My son taught me to fish. My husband and I always wanted to try and went online several times to see what to buy and how to use the equipement. I know this sounds very sad to all of you had a father who taught them -- clearly no mother was involved btw) and it was really sad but above all, unproductive. So this past summer, my husband and I each bought ourselves a $20 fishing kit at Walmart and headed with my 3 grown kids to a quiet Lake Placid vacation for a few days. And there, on the peaceful shore of Lake Mirror, my son showed me. Patiently, intelligently, with love, he explained the principles of fishing. Emphasized security re: that sharp hook( Mom, you ALWAYS have to look behind you before casting) respect: you might want to use plyers to not hurt uncessaraly the fish further when you take out the hook). His big 6 foot 2 frame planted by my petite side, his hand over mine to show me how to position my fingers on the reel handle, I thought some miracle had occured. I had bought a loving person into this world. No fish of course was caught that day. But joy, pure and simple was harvested.
My father used to take me out fishing here and there. If I had a daughter (or son) I would not repeat that experience. Unless you're fishing for food--and even then it's not a "peaceful" sport--there's no point. It's torture for the fish and live bait. There's other outdoor activities for bonding--camping, hiking, etc. that don't involve killing another creature just for "pleasure."
What bothers me about this article, in particular, is that the writer mentions a "ritual that deepens (his daughter's) love of the sea, rivers, lakes, clean air . . ." It's not love to kill a creature for sport. I'm sorry, but it just isn't in my book. He doesn't say anything about eating the fish and frankly the impression of a sea robin being tossed back sounds really cruel to me.
Maybe I'm just not that into fishing and killing something which is minding it's own business in its natural habitat.
What bothers me about this article, in particular, is that the writer mentions a "ritual that deepens (his daughter's) love of the sea, rivers, lakes, clean air . . ." It's not love to kill a creature for sport. I'm sorry, but it just isn't in my book. He doesn't say anything about eating the fish and frankly the impression of a sea robin being tossed back sounds really cruel to me.
Maybe I'm just not that into fishing and killing something which is minding it's own business in its natural habitat.
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To some of those with allegiance to the fish over fishing, and concern about the health and welfare of the little critters, this may or not be a good time to mention this: http://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300215342/fishing
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We always had a boat while my father was alive. Out of 5 kids, 1 boy 4 girls, i was his second daughter and the only one who loved the water and fishing as much as he did. We'd usually go out on the Great South Bay behind Massapequa where we lived, but we would also go out of Jones inlet to the ocean which was a little scary with its rolling waves and tricky currents in an 18 ft tri-hull. Back then...in the 60s and 70s..the waters in the bay were chock full of fish..flounder, blowfish, porgies, we'd both use double hooks on our lines and pull up blowfish 2 at times. I never baited a hook or took a fish off that was caught..i'd switch poles with my father and he'd dutifully do those messy things, poor guy, but i loved everything else about the day..finding the perfect spot, the rocking of the boat, the smell of salt air, how proud my father looked every time i'd catch another, the excitement of filling up the hold with fish....but what stays with me 'til this day is the feeling of that instant that you feel the tug on the line..sometimes almost imperceptible, sometimes almost pulling the rod out of your hands and then pulling back to hook him and fighting to reel him in. My fathers gone..and i haven't gone fishing in about 40-45 years.....but the memories are still fresh and wonderful.
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Thanks Ben. Fishing is in the blood.
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Swedish and Saami American and fishing is in my blood. First memories are of fishing. It is good for your head and good for your soul. Hours go by and your head clears. No need for conversation, just breathe the air and watch your line. Fished for salmon on a wooden sailboat in Alaska Southwest in the 2970's and on docks throughout my life. Yes, dock fishing. No it isn't nuts it is Swedish Zen. So satisfying. So peaceful.
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1970's
Beautiful writing, nicely restrained, as a fisher-person must be.
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Ah, what lovely memories this article evoked...I too was the daughter who fished.
Fishing was the one thing and the boat the one place where my father and I did not fight. It was a time of quiet. was good at it and he was proud that I was good at it.
It was where I learned that my father would die for me. We would fish in Canada, on rather remote lakes. At some point, I would no longer tolerate sitting over the side of the boat to pee. So, Daddy had to pull the boat on shore. He was afraid of bears possibly lurking in the forest above the shore. I was a petite person (still am). He tried hard to get me to pull the cord to start the boat, in case a bear came so I could get out of there. He would let the bear get him but I needed to get the motor started. Alas, it was impossible, my arms were too short. Thankfully, there were no bears but I realized he would die for me. Wow, I wasn't even sure before that if he even much liked me, outside of my being his fishing buddy. Dumb kid.
I still have my fishing trophy from a tournament in Ontario...against men. They wanted my fish discounted cause I was a girl and my father went to the owners and was reassured that wouldn't happen. Summer of love, 1967. That Northern Pike fought well and was half as long as me. I got it in the boat, all by myself! What joy!
Wall eye freshly cleaned and pan fried. 1 hour before it was swimming toward my lure. Same with cat fish, rainbow trout and perch. What a way to grow up!
Fishing was the one thing and the boat the one place where my father and I did not fight. It was a time of quiet. was good at it and he was proud that I was good at it.
It was where I learned that my father would die for me. We would fish in Canada, on rather remote lakes. At some point, I would no longer tolerate sitting over the side of the boat to pee. So, Daddy had to pull the boat on shore. He was afraid of bears possibly lurking in the forest above the shore. I was a petite person (still am). He tried hard to get me to pull the cord to start the boat, in case a bear came so I could get out of there. He would let the bear get him but I needed to get the motor started. Alas, it was impossible, my arms were too short. Thankfully, there were no bears but I realized he would die for me. Wow, I wasn't even sure before that if he even much liked me, outside of my being his fishing buddy. Dumb kid.
I still have my fishing trophy from a tournament in Ontario...against men. They wanted my fish discounted cause I was a girl and my father went to the owners and was reassured that wouldn't happen. Summer of love, 1967. That Northern Pike fought well and was half as long as me. I got it in the boat, all by myself! What joy!
Wall eye freshly cleaned and pan fried. 1 hour before it was swimming toward my lure. Same with cat fish, rainbow trout and perch. What a way to grow up!
5
I fished as a kid in lakes, by myself waking up early, trolling in a boat with my dad, on the shore with my grandfather and meditative it was not. 40 years later I can find a million other things I would rather do than fish. I wish my Dad would have had the ability to ask what my brother and I would have liked to do during our summers. I can tell you I will never ever eat trout again.
Sweet.
My SO used to take his sons ( and sometimes various nieces) fishing. Some was in ponds, or the nearby reservoir, some in the ocean. It was often catch and release, unless it was going to be be dinner or breakfast. And he'd take the barbs off hooks, to avoid damaging any fish not being returned.
It was a bonding experience, and a lesson in patience and focus, -- and, yes, competition. It also created - in all of the time spent awaiting a strike, the perfect opportunity to educate them about the natural world, and our relation to it.
For all those of us who do eat fish, being part of the whole chain of events, including the messy parts we usually no longer experience, can lead more respect for animals and the environment, not less.
My SO used to take his sons ( and sometimes various nieces) fishing. Some was in ponds, or the nearby reservoir, some in the ocean. It was often catch and release, unless it was going to be be dinner or breakfast. And he'd take the barbs off hooks, to avoid damaging any fish not being returned.
It was a bonding experience, and a lesson in patience and focus, -- and, yes, competition. It also created - in all of the time spent awaiting a strike, the perfect opportunity to educate them about the natural world, and our relation to it.
For all those of us who do eat fish, being part of the whole chain of events, including the messy parts we usually no longer experience, can lead more respect for animals and the environment, not less.
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It is nice that you are bonding with your daughter and all but to say that fishing is the most meditative of all outdoor activities does not seem correct. Meditative suggests a sense of awareness and mindfulness. Unneccesarrily stabbing live worms on hooks to capture and kill another living creature seems to be the opposite of meditative. If you were starving that is one thing but to do it for entertainment is another.
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Gary, we had little money and that fish was dinner just like he ate other fish for his dinner. The joy was as much in the reverie of waiting patiently.
4
While you find fishing to be meditative, the fish on the end of the hook are fighting for their lives. When you catch and release, you are essentially torturing the fish for your pleasure. How would you like it if we put a hook in your mouth then pulled it out? You even mention that blood and guts are not for the squeamish. If you want to enjoy the outdoors with your daughter, why does it have to involve killing? Why not just enjoy the outdoors without fishing, then you can really experience each other's company?
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A fish or worm have no soul...they don't know tomorrow.
They're part of the food chain....we just happen to be at the top. Fishing can be relaxing....or making us face Mother Nature at her best or her worst.
I never was a great or even good fisherman, however it was always enjoyable. There are worse things humans could do.
They're part of the food chain....we just happen to be at the top. Fishing can be relaxing....or making us face Mother Nature at her best or her worst.
I never was a great or even good fisherman, however it was always enjoyable. There are worse things humans could do.
1
I grew up fishing for large mouth bass in Texas with my grandfather. During the summer, he picked me and my brother up every Wednesday morning an hour or two before daybreak. My grandmother had sent him with sausage and biscuit sandwiches for the drive. And he always had a three musketeers and an orange soda for a snack at hand.
And like the author I went through a period of running with a non outdoorsy crowd in my 20's and got rid of most of my fishing gear.
Now I live in Idaho, I regeared and I take my 9 year old daughter out for kokonee, largemouth, smallmouth, crappie, trout, whatever will bite whenever I can. And I keep the traditions, sausage and biscuits for the drive, three musketeers and orange soda for a snack. These simple rituals bring back a lot of great memories and create new ones at the same time.
And like the author I went through a period of running with a non outdoorsy crowd in my 20's and got rid of most of my fishing gear.
Now I live in Idaho, I regeared and I take my 9 year old daughter out for kokonee, largemouth, smallmouth, crappie, trout, whatever will bite whenever I can. And I keep the traditions, sausage and biscuits for the drive, three musketeers and orange soda for a snack. These simple rituals bring back a lot of great memories and create new ones at the same time.
5
There are 700 million rec and artisan fishers in the world according to the UN. For every fish caught and eaten by familes saves store bought fish (50% aquaculture) that ultimately saves wild fish because farm fish eat wild fish in the form of fishmeal at poor ratio: 3:1. Take your sons and daughters fishing and make dinner.
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I look forward to the day, recognizing that it may never come, when parents don't teach their children to take pleasure in tormenting animals.
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@Stephen Best: I'm sure that the fish, chicken and meat sold in the markets didn't jump into the packages by their own free will. Wild or farmed, they meet their demise and our tables. Enjoy your tofu and quinoa!
Breaking News:
Daughters are people too.
Daughters are people too.
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My dad always had a boat. Started with a 16 foot runabout- worked up to a 24 foot real fishing boat. Before I could even walk I held a fishing rod.
Every weekend of my life was spent fishing on the waters of the Great South Bay. We always got fish. My dad had an uncanny ability to find them. When others came back to the marina with empty buckets they would ask "what's your secret." His response - " There's a sign on the bottom of the boat that says Eat At Jack's." We always had company on the boat- family, friends. Our neighbors ate well when we had a good day.
My dad passed away 2 years ago at the age of 93. This first mate misses her daddy. I like to think Captain Jack is out there somewhere on a boat looking for fish.
Every weekend of my life was spent fishing on the waters of the Great South Bay. We always got fish. My dad had an uncanny ability to find them. When others came back to the marina with empty buckets they would ask "what's your secret." His response - " There's a sign on the bottom of the boat that says Eat At Jack's." We always had company on the boat- family, friends. Our neighbors ate well when we had a good day.
My dad passed away 2 years ago at the age of 93. This first mate misses her daddy. I like to think Captain Jack is out there somewhere on a boat looking for fish.
2
I got so hooked as a youth, I started a fishing tackle business!
1
My father taught my brother and me to fish some 65 years ago. My brother became a true expert with an absolute passion to this day. I never rose above incompetent, although some of my fondest memories are about fishing. I taught my son about fishing when he was about five one afternoon on the dock in Fair Harbor going for snappers. He caught a couple dozen compared to my 10 or so. They made a wonderful dinner. When he was a bit older I took him to Kensico Reservoir a few times where we caught an occasional sunny or bass, but there was not enough action for him to become hooked -- or maybe it was my incompetence. About 17 years ago to the day, when he was just short of 13, we were with my brother on the Little Gruinard in Wester Ross in the Scottish Highlands. The picture of him holding a nice-sized salmon with my brother and the gilly is one of my prized-possessions. I, of course, caught nothing.
5
Do the fish like it?
4
You and your daughter, especially a daughter, are so fortunate to enjoy each other's company. I desperately wish my father had taught me to fish. All that memory, skill, and enjoyment now gone. My father was an unpleasant person, so being with him for very long was not fun. The tiny bit of fishing I have done as an adult has been without any knowledge, and I've caught essentially nothing. But throwing the line in the water has to be enough for me.
My daughters love the out of doors, but the ability to fish and the love of fishing is one thing I have been unable to pass along. Congratulations to you and your daughter. You not only have created wonderful memories but have enabled her to have a lifetime of fun and knowledge to pass on to her progeny. you are truly blessed!
My daughters love the out of doors, but the ability to fish and the love of fishing is one thing I have been unable to pass along. Congratulations to you and your daughter. You not only have created wonderful memories but have enabled her to have a lifetime of fun and knowledge to pass on to her progeny. you are truly blessed!
1
Great story!
Sometimes we get too self-involved and ignore certain gifts we can give to our children. Gifts they can treasure when they reach your age. Share your adult leisure time with your children. Some may take to what you enjoy doing, and some may not. But the memories created will stay with them forever. And that, in the end, is the whole point isn't it?
John~
American Net'Zen
John~
American Net'Zen
2
Very nice piece. I too have the pleasure of fishing with my daughter, now in her 20s. We have taken up fly fishing, since she lives in Vermont, and while neither of us are going to deplete the fish stocks of the rivers in that fair state, it is some of the most enjoyable time we have ever spent together.
1
Love the story. Coincidentally, I am preparing to take my daughter and 5 of her friends fishing for her birthday right now!
1
For my daughter it was her exposure to Mother Earth her rhythms ,her players their interrelationships .We became part of the web of life and together we shared those moments and reflections.She is now connected as I was as a child ,what more can Daddy ask for?
1
Nice article. Many other outside experiences are the "most meditative of outdoor endeavors".
Our family bloodline goes back to Newfoundland, and bred into us was "cod" fishing. Every summer Saturday Dad, my two brothers and I would head out beyond Boston Lighthouse in a boat Dad made.
We fished with drop lines, in 100 ft of water. All day, and caught dozens of cod, haddock, and flounder. Dad would gut them on the way back in. When we got home Dad would clean, fillet, wrap them and store them in our deep freezer in the cellar. Our favorite meal was Dad's fish chowder. Boil the fish, use the broth, potatoes, and onions. Lots of salt and pepper. Oyster crackers. Can't beat it.
Thank you for the memory.
We fished with drop lines, in 100 ft of water. All day, and caught dozens of cod, haddock, and flounder. Dad would gut them on the way back in. When we got home Dad would clean, fillet, wrap them and store them in our deep freezer in the cellar. Our favorite meal was Dad's fish chowder. Boil the fish, use the broth, potatoes, and onions. Lots of salt and pepper. Oyster crackers. Can't beat it.
Thank you for the memory.
5
Wonderful story!
Thank you for sharing the gift that you have given your daughter. "Blessedly, there’s little for vacationers to do on the island besides read, nap, eat, swim — and fish." All of us need a time and places where there is little to do. We agree that fishing is a fabulous way to be right there in the present. Lucky Catie.
1
Thank you for sharing your special memories, especially over this July 4th weekend. The article is refreshing after a week of depressing news.
2
Nicely done. I grew up fishing with my father and it remains a valued reservoir of treasured memories. Thank you
1
Having fished for over 60 years for food and for pleasure, my most precious memory of the past two decades was taking my 7 year old granddaughter out on our lake last 4th of July for her to catch enough bluegills to feed everybody (which she did quite handily). Neither my son in law or myself had any time to fish ourselves.
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Beautiful!
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I had the good fortune of being taught to fish by my father on some of NH's most beautiful lakes. I was just 6 yrs old. His only requirement was that I bait my own hook. Those memories are some of the best of my time with Dad. I still fish at 60 and have shared this wonderful experience with my children. My 18 yr old daughter seems to enjoy it the most and fishes the ponds and lakes near our home. I am so glad.
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