When I was very young, while visiting my cousins in LA, my uncle took us to get some fish for dinner. As kids, you couldn't get us to eat a frozen fish stick but we were happy to go along for the ride.
To our surprise, we didn't go to the market. We drove out to a place where we walked across a little rope bridge, over some water, to enter a small shack. This old man was behind a counter smiling. We thought we were maybe at Disneyland or something but it turned out to be a trout farm.
I then saw a bunch of cement ponds, that were made to look somewhat natural and I made a B-line towards them. My uncle was saying "wait" while he was getting some bamboo poles from a rack but I had to see what was swirling around like a kalidiscope in the water.
Ducking under the rope that surrounded the ponds, I was on my hands and knees watching the school of trout swimming by. My reflection on the water cut the glare and I could clearly see the fish's eye's, mouths opening, black dots and the red stripe down their sides. I just sat there in amazement, as if I could never tire of looking into the water to see what lived under the surface.
My attention was interrupted when I heard my uncle shout, "don't eat it!" to my little cousin Vicki. He was pouring some pellets in her and James' hands, that he just got out of a gum ball machine. We were confused because those red machines always gave out colorful candy treats but these green candies smelled awful. "These are for the fish, watch" and he tossed them into the air. The water erupted as the trout went into a feeding frenzy that sprayed a mist and caused waves to hit the sides of the pond.
I was delighted while my cousins looked a bit frightened. They just nervously tossed their handful in and retreated behind uncle as the frenzy erupted again, more concerned with the smell on their hands.
I wanted to make mine last so I tossed them one by one, making each pellet count. Luring them closer to me, I got them to snatch pellets out of my fingers. My cousins looked terrified that I was gonna lose a finger but with each vicious bite, I looked back at them giggling. I was having the time of my life but then it got even better.
My uncle handed us bamboo fishing poles and before he could finish instructing us how to carefully bait the hook, I caught a trout without the bait. He was unhooking my fish and placing it a plastic bag and James and Vicki both pulled up fish. My poor uncle was wrangling fish with three kids holding them up in the air while they thrashed and flicked water on him. He'd remove one and we'd catch another before he could get to the next. "We only need six fish, so two a piece", my uncle said.
How nobody got impelled that day was pure luck.
After paying for about dozen trout and their cleaning from inside the shack, my uncle announced that it was time to go.
We were still by the ponds on our hands and knees watching fish, trying to figure out why these ones were called catfish. Maybe they eat cats? That ones got a big enough mouth. Maybe they feed them to cats because who would want to eat such an ugly fish?
I'm sure I would've had to have been dragged out of there if not for the promise to come back if we were good.
From then on, every time we visited our relatives, I would beg for trout dinner, so we'd get to visit "Happy Jacks Trout Farm". (Although It would be years before I would actually eat fish)
That night I went to sleep dreaming of catching a big fish. Today with all of life's problems, worries, and regrets weighing heavily on ones mind, the thought of catching the next big fish, takes you back to a time when life was simple, everything was new and full of possibilities, luck was still a good thing and you couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.
Fishing can be whatever the person chooses. Basic or technical, expensive or not, hurried or laid back. You can do it with friends or go alone. Day or night. Heck you don't even have to catch anything to have a good time. It can merely be an escape. A break from all the madness and I time to reflect. It is all up to you what it means and how far you wanna take it. Whatever makes you happy fishing, pursue it. It's about experience's not numbers.
"Frontier Village"
I'm going to date myself. There was this park in San Jose called Frontier Village. It was a western era type of amusement park. No rides, per se, but Wild West reanactments could bust out anytime, stage coach robberies and what not. It was a fun play ground place for children's b-day parties and company functions.
One year, Frontier Village announced they had opened a trout farm attraction. From my prior experience at Happy Jack's, I knew what a trout farm meant. I was in the 4th grade now and we were going to Moms company picnic tomorrow, which was always at Frontier Village. A friend and I whom were just getting into fishing locally, were plotting how we were going to catch the fish. We had a few lures between us and we were bringing them.
When we got to the park the next day, after helping with the picnic stuff, we were finally cut loose. We ran over to the trout farm and just observed how it was ran. We watched people catching fish and then paying for them by weight. If a fish was over fifteen inches, it was free. I didn't have any money so we were just going to hang out inside there. We'd get a few pebbles, and drop them into the water. The trout would pounce on them but then spit them out.
My friend had just enough money to pay for one caught fish, so he had a shot at a 15"+ (free) and if he didn't catch one, he could pay. The park used a cane pole with a small double frog hook, which you put corn kernels on for bait. (This was odd to us) He removed the hook and tied on a crappie jig that he brought. There was no need for any lure or bait, the trout would hit anything. He waited to seek out a fifteen plus inch trout. Once we located one he tried to catch it. Placing the jig in front of the trout, for a split second, it seemed too easy. But before the bigger trout could eat the jig, a smaller fish would come and snatch it up. He had hooked a fish that had to be payed for. He tried to let it become unhooked but it was on there good. A park employee quickly acknowledged he had caught a fish and bagged it, so it was game over and he would have to pay. He was a little disappointed and left to put it in the cooler back at the picnic area.
I was still going to hang around in the trout farm area. I wanted to catch a fish too but with no money, I thought of how I could still have some fun. I went to the cashier area and spied a pencil on the counter. I pulled the erasure off the pencil and put the pencil back. I grabbed a cane pole and put the erasure over the hooks. I put it in the water and the fish would grab it. When I lifted the fish up, it would let go and fall back into the water. I did this over and over, never hooking a fish. A park employee tried to offer me assistance but I insisted "I got it!" so he wouldn't see the erasure.
I noticed that the fish would eat the erasure but then spit it out once they realized it wasn't food. This gave me an idea.
I used the bare hook and when a smaller fish grabbed it, I gave it slack until it spit it out. Another fish would then grab it and do the same. So I waited until a big fish grabbed the bare hook and then set on it. I pulled the big fish up and a park employee quickly grabbed it. I was nervous because I wasn't sure if it was over fifteen inches and if it wasn't, I didn't have any money to pay for it. The worker who grabbed it measured it, then announced "we got a free one!" I was feeling good. They cleaned the fish for me and put it in a bag and wrote "free" on it. I ran back to the picnic area with my prized fish.
I have never been a gambler or enjoyed casinos. To me it's just a waste of money. I'd rather go and buy something instead of gambling that I would double my money or whatever.
There is a element of gambling in fishing. You weigh the odds against the rewards in a different way. I am addicted to this type of gambling. I'm just glad they don't have fishing casinos.
"Koi Ponds"
My father was from Gilroy Ca. where my grandfather first grew garlic, on our ranch property, which Gilroy is known for. The house was of real Japanese architecture. It was part of a display at the worlds fair in 1942, which my grandfather purchased after the fair was over. The ranch house had a beautiful garden complete with a koi pond. Apparently my grandmother was homesick for Japan so my grandfather did his best to bring Japan within the fenced area surrounding the home.
When I was growing up, I would take a bamboo pole, attach string, and a bent needle for a hook. With some bread I would catch the koi and temporarily detain them in a container, to look at, before putting them back. When I saw a pond with fish in it, I naturally thought of catching the fish.
Later in life, I would learn that "Koi" are symbols of love and affection in Japan and their wellbeing is the purpose of the pond. My aunt must have been horrified to see me out there, having a great time catching the koi. But to my defense, most were in double digits with a few in the twenty plus range.
These are my earliest fishing experiences. I still have a strong love and affection for fishing. I don't need to catch anything to enjoy doing it. It keeps my ADHD mind occupied and I can think about issues in depth. It can take me back in time, remembering the people whom are no longer with us. When it's time to leave and I say, "last cast", I'll do one for each person whom I miss being gone. My dad never fished but he took me anytime I asked. He didn't understand why I enjoyed it so much. Perhaps he is with me now when I fish. And still cannot understand why I enjoy it so much. If it's possible, I'm sure I'll still be hanging around all places I loved to fish, when I'm gone. I just can't seem to ever get enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment