NUMENON |
PONDERING CORE ESSENCE
NUMENON |
After almost 35 years in The Great Lakes State (Michigan), in late 2019 I moved back "home" to New England. Born, raised and schooled here, I'd taken my nascent fishing skills out west in 1985. Now, I had the opportunity to bring my full-grown passion for fishing and accumulated experience to bear on New England's fish in both fresh and salt water! The landscape looked different and more promising to me upon my return. First and foremost, I now had more resources available to me than I'd had as a teenager; but I also had new perspectives on geography and the opportunities available to me. It had taken several decades, but the colloquialism of my Rhode Island youth had given way to a broader view of possibility. It's now okay to choose to travel three or four hours each way for a day's fishing; even longer for a weekend. It's reasonable to hold licenses from multiple states. It's acceptable to "Go Big", try something new, and come home skunked. And it's easier to be aware of all this, simply because of the internet! The resources seemed to have improved in my absence, too. Clean air and water regulations have been effective, in the main, in restoring and protecting the environment. Public access to many waters has been enhanced. Five-pound largemouth bass are legitimately possible as opposed to being an object of dreams. Black sea bass and scup have been recognized as sporting fish, and appear to be more available and much larger than I recall. Northern pike have extended their range. Quality catches in pleasant settings are no longer a simple matter of luck, but can be planned for and executed. And now there are stripers! Numbers may be down compared to a decade or two ago, and their presence should not ever again be taken for granted, but stripers are way more numerous and accessible than they were when I left. In fact, I had never encountered one before I left New England in 1985. Big, gator blues were the saltwater sportfish of my youth. True to their mysterious and nomadic ways, large bluefish are currently locally scarce and unpredictable. That's a current loss compared to 35 years ago, but there's at least hope that this is part of a natural cycle and that big bluefish will be part of the future. So, I arrived back "home" (albeit now as a resident of The Bay State) to a better place, and armed with the knowledge, equipment and motivation to make my 2020 Fishing Season truly epic. From trout to false albacore, I had big plans for 2020. And then, of course, everything changed with the arrival of Coronavirus. This is my first Pandemic, and so I doubt that I've done everything exactly correctly or with complete grace. But, I've managed to keep myself healthy and employed, as has my family circle. So, I am lucky, and in The Pandemic Sense of Things, very well off! But the situation has put various crimps in my plans and dreams, including my 2020 fishing. I never launched my Lund freshwater boat; she remains in extended hibernation on her trailer. Other than casting for stocked trout, I didn't even fish in freshwater in 2020. In my opinion, a freshwater season without bass is not even a season. I'll not write further of my season's freshwater exploits; let's just say I am thankful that I had access to the salt in 2020. While I didn't moor my Maritime saltwater skiff in Maine, as planned, I was able to responsibly access her on a frequent-enough basis without interacting with others outside my bubble. From May through October, I was able to explore a good chunk of Cape Cod and Maine's Casco Bay with her. This 14-foot platform became something like a therapist's couch for me in 2020. With frequent visits to her, I was able to effectively (?) deal with the other aspects of my life. But this is about the fishing and the gifts it bestowed upon me in 2020. There were many, and just about all of them involved stripers or their pursuit. The sunrises, sunsets and solitude might have been enough solace by themselves; but the fishing was pretty darn good, too. While I landed no monstrously large fish in 2020 (my biggest striped bass measured in at 37 inches; I am still seeking a verified 40-incher), I did set a few Personal Bests along the way. But these were either incidental or accidental, and so were more or less just part of the enjoyment, and not meaningful in the long run. Still, it's fun to recognize your largest Hickory Shad, Sea Robin and sea-run Brown Trout. Each fish should be appreciated for what it has to offer, and these provided exclamation points on three different sessions that might otherwise have been forgotten. I visited several new ports and navigated many new waters. I pushed my Casco Bay explorations further east and north, found some new bait stops, productive rocks, and I placed piles of new waypoints on the new Garmin GPS. I live-lined, tube-and-wormed and raised fish on topwater baits from more new spots on Casco Bay than I had accumulated in the previous, mostly shore-bound, 19 years. I was fortunate to spend the July 4th Weekend and a week's respite from work here, not only exploring, but catching! I was doubly fortunate to not only land a beautiful sea-run brown on a small Kastmaster intended for mackerel, but to also catch, photograph and release a 2020 Striper Cup-winning striper on this same bait. I was triply fortunate to have done so from my retirement property! I've got a lot to look forward to, here! On the Cape, I added Upper Buzzards Bay, Sandwich, Barnstable, the entirety of Waquoit Bay's watershed and some of the Vineyard Sound shoals to my list of familiar waters. I was able to employ tactics both trusted and new. The stripers just about always found me, and in the newness of it all, I learned from just about each one. I am more prepared for future seasons than ever before, and if I choose to be the only person in the fleet utilizing Ben Parker Magnum Flutter Spoons, so be it! The best part of the Pandemic for me has been telecommuting. And if one is telecommuting, why not choose to do so from a rented house on the shores of Waquoit Bay? We did so for a week in September, during which I was blessed with the best, consistent topwater action of the year, as well as my rediscovery of fluke-style baits. Despite the persistent and powerful wind, the fishing and on-the-water experience was so good that week, I almost didn't mind having to work during the day! I expect to do the same in 2021, and possibly beyond! Almost 200 stripers came over the Maritime's gunwales, and another couple dozen or so were landed from shore. Of course, I missed and flubbed many other opportunities, but I don't think I lost any truly large stripers. Additionally, a bunch of sea bass, scup and blues, and even a few fluke visited me, too. I experienced no real on-the-water problems, and sometimes I was even able to forget about my lack of freshwater opportunities or the other, real problems posed by 2020. As I write this in January of 2021, the Coronavirus situation remains dark. I don't know what to realistically expect for 2021. I don't know what I can plan for, I don't even know if I dare dream about certain things. But I do know that I will (at least and likely) find safe harbor with my skiff, my light tackle and the striped bass of New England's coastal waters. This comfort is enough, for now. It's good to be home. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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I began the New Year by completing my reading of "The Book of Eels; Our Enduring Fascination with the Most Mysterious Creature in the Natural World" by Patrik Svensson. This was a thoughtful gift from my family. As an example of how truly strange 2020 was, this might have been the first book I've read to completion since 2019. Maybe my reading habits are finally back on track, and this was a prime vehicle to get me there. A combination of natural history, fish, biology and cultural lore, I was certain to find this work interesting. Add the generous splash of philosophy, an exploration of paternal relationships and a Swedish setting, and I was sure to find it unique. Add the layer of metaphysics and a discussion of meaning, and I was a perfect recipient for this thoughtful gift. Or perhaps a better way to put it; this was the perfect, thoughtful gift for this recipient. I'll be honest, I know enough about the natural history, life cycle and plight of catadromous Atlantic eels (North American and European) that I wasn't surprised about too much of the "mystery" attributed to them. On the other hand, I'll be doubly honest and admit that the drain of daily, workaday life has robbed me of the capacity to truly appreciate the wondrous mysteries of the eel. "Knowing" what I think I "know" about them had become enough for me. My curiosity here has been stunted. Perhaps this illustrates my intellectual limitations, or maybe it's simply a matter of available time and energy (both are limited resources, use of which needs to be prioritized) for consideration of such things. Regardless, this might be my first lesson from this reading; my lack of wonder shortchanges both the eel and my appreciation for the work of the giants, on whose effort and suffering my so-called "understanding" of the eel (natural history, biology, scientific investigations, etc.) rests. Despite my shortcomings, I am quite confident that this recent (2019) work is well complemented by another I read several years ago. My copy is packed away and unavailable for reference at this time, but as I recall, "Eels : An Exploration, from New Zealand to the Sargasso, of the World's Most Mysterious Fish" by James Prosek was similarly engrossing. The paternal exploration of Svensson was perhaps replaced here by a deeper treatment of the eel's impact on different cultures, and so maybe it is more about the eel than about the author; but then again, perhaps not. Svensson's work is clearly as much about human relations as about the eel itself; and as discussed below, perhaps simply tackling a subject like this automatically transforms that subject into something beyond its simple being. I tagged a few pages of the book while I was reading; something at each had caught my attention. Now, it's time to try to figure it out! "Metaphysics is... an attempt to describe the true nature of things, the whole of reality. It claims there's a difference between existence per se and the characteristics of that existence. It also claims that the two questions are separate. The eel is. Existence comes first. But what it is, is a completely different matter." (page 25) I would argue that this is what my entire blogging effort is about. Go ahead, check out the header, above. Heck, check out the block quote footer, below. Leopold was saying the same thing about his tired Wisconsin farm. My Lund is nothing but a machine, but what it represents is my ability to get out on the water and express myself. Fishing is most simply my chosen manner of enjoying time off, but what it represents for me is connection to the natural world. I do fish, but what that has helped me become is a man (occasionally) at peace with himself and his place. And so, eels are eels; somewhat unique fishes with a well-earned air of mystery. Because they've been variously important food sources, they've been on mankind's radar for millennia. Because of their hidden life cycle, we've had the opportunity to wonder about them. Because they've been slow to reveal the secrets of their true nature, the depth of that wonder is amplified. We are interested in eels in ways that we are not, for instance, in deepwater gulpers, anglers, or chimaera. We know less about these fish than we do about the eel; and yet, somehow, there's been an Eel Question since at least Aristotle. Which leads me to this; with respect to maintaining an active eel-fishing enterprise in Sweden, it might not make dollars or sense. But, without maintaining the centuries-old ways and humble seashore property rights: "The interest in the eel, and thus the eel itself, will be lost. This is the great paradox... in order to understand the eel, we have to have an interest in it, and to have an interest in it we have to continue to hunt, kill and eat it... An eel is never allowed to simply be an eel. It's never allowed just to be. Thus it has also become a symbol of our complex relationship with all the other forms of life on this planet" (page 95) I do not fish for food, and so I've minimized the killing and eating, but my interest in knowing about my quarry, their habits and habitats, my interest in having them available, protected (or at least regulated) and in robust populations in healthy environments, is my way of making these fish matter. And not just my quarry, but their natural prey and predators, too. And perhaps not just them, but myself, too. My interest helps to influence public access, fisheries policies, innovation within boating and tackle industries, support for environmental protection programs, and more. If we collectively just let the striper (or tuna, or bonefish, or shark or trout...) be, if we weren't interested enough in them to recognize their ecological roles, uniqueness or plights, we'd never be able to argue or act on their collective behalf. I've no interest in drowning, but simply treading water is both so tiring and unsatisfactory. I want my efforts (whether at work, play or relationships) to contribute to continuous improvement. Which is why this last quote caught my eye: "Utopian deadlock... the measures put in place to protect... are not only insufficient, they also risk becoming a form of placating misdirection. As long as we cling to what we think we know, what we believe to be right, the... situation will never improve, but instead worsen. And while the problem continues to be debate, time passes" (page 219) Our one true limiting resource is time. With a bit of luck, one can accumulate some extra wealth and possibly influence, but we all have limited time in which to make our mark. We all need to be efficient with our time and efforts. So we've metaphysically progressed from questions of is/be? to what? to now, why? For starters, Why not? simply seems to be an unacceptable answer. Why? Because we are fortunate enough to be aware of our existence; we want to make something of ourselves. I want that something to have left behind a better situation than I originally fell into. I want to be involved with interesting, meaningful things. I want to use my available time to develop an understanding of my place. I want to be able to ask, Why? And I even want to have some sense of how to answer, Why? The Eel Question stumped Aristotle, perhaps the last (Western) human to be in a position to know everything worth knowing at the time. It's going to take a lot less of a mystery to stump me. But, I am glad enough to be in a position to ponder, and to know that I am in good company when I struggle with the value of my efforts to make sense of things, or wonder why it's so important to me to understand my next fish. (I do recognize that this might be incomprehensible and/or worthless. My apologies if you find that to be the case.) Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Happy New Year! In no particular order, may I offer my modest Fishing Goals for 2021: 1. 200 Stripers for the season 2. Share a fresh fish meal with Uncle M 3. Catch my biggest ever striper 4. Catch a false albacore! 5. Catch a 6-pound "bass" (green, brown or sea-) 6. Catch a 20-inch trout! 7. Successfully fish new water 8. Successfully implement a new technique 9. Somebody new in the boat 10. Launch Numenon *** 200 Stripers for the season This is my new benchmark for a season of chasing stripers. Given enough time on the water, it's doable. Plus, if I've landed 200 stripers, I have certainly experienced many more strikes, splashes, follows and misses. I'll probably have enjoyed a lot of by-catch along the way. And, I know I'll have had a lot of fun! Share a fresh fish meal with Uncle M It won't be the meal so much as the preparation, execution and success that it represents. Plus, with a cooler full of ice on board, maybe a few gyotaku specimens will find their way home and get me going on that again, too. Catch my biggest ever striper This is a standing goal for every trip. But it's more realistic over the course of the entire season. If I catch it while actually hunting big fish, that will be even better. Catch a false albacore! There's no magic to this; it's a matter of patience and opportunity. But, I will gladly accept a little good luck, too. If I stumble into good fishing for other species along the way, I am fine with that. Catch a 6-pound "bass" (green, brown or sea-) Any of these is truly an outstanding fish. I'd like to think that I might chase freshwater bass on some quality water this season, but if I am unable to do so, the idea of landing a giant sea bass is an appealing alternative. Catch a 20-inch trout! Whether caught through the ice, from the sea, casting or trolling, any 20-inch trout is a beautiful, worthy goal. Successfully fish new water Kaizen! The pursuit of continuous improvement and growth in my collected fishing endeavors is one reason why I like it so much. A quality experience on unfamiliar water pulls it all together and validates the effort; but it also unlocks unknown potential for the future. This positive feedback loop can be a powerful agent of beneficial change. Successfully implement a new technique This is always a worthwhile goal for the same arguments as presented above. Plus, it might involve fun new stuff or shiney new things, for which I am sometimes a bit of a sucker. In many ways it offers a chance to practice my model of Anticipation! Participation! and Elaboration! repeatedly, so whatever success I might encounter, I can enjoy it many times over. Somebody new in the boat Too much of my New England fishing has been solitary. I enjoy the freedom and flexibility of this, and I likely fish best alone, but I miss my Michigan friends and hosting others on my boat(s). It's always nice to share a good experience, and it can be a nice reminder to see familiar things through new eyes. Launch Numenon She has been patiently resting on her trailer in Maine, waiting for things to settle down. There's a lot of potential for her up there, so I hope she's ready to go when we have the chance! *** Of course, I am reserving the right to amend or append; I already have a number of ideas rattling around in the back of my subconscious. Regardless, here's to an Excellent 2021! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
Steve LachanceVia Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Michigan and now, back to New England! Archives
June 2024
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