“Trishaaaaaaaa!”
Said a rough voice as I turned away my hopeful watch over the waters to look.
“Woaaaaaaa – who’s that?” Someone covered in warm outdoor gear, and hooded, turned to face me.
“Hey!!!! Anthony Anthony! Wherefore art thou?...”
We hugged that long-time-no-see kinda hug. I had not seen Anthony since late August when my sights turned from Bluegill to Salmon.
“Man! Where you been?” I asked.
“Over there”, he pointed toward the outer and inner harbours, “snagging for Salmon!”
“Snagging?” I said with disgust. “Awe man get outta here!”
He just laughed.
“Well I’ve been over here, on the pier since late August “fishin” for Salmon. So what brings you to “our” side?” He said he thought he’d come “fish” for a while.
So we fished and talked the hours away with nothing to show for our fishing efforts. We were hungry and decided to part each others company and have dinner promising to return before dark.
It was dusk and there he was. We chose our lures before it got too dark. Anthony had a large blue and white stripe Rat-L Trap. I chose a Lil' Cleo. We got our flashers and flashlights ready for night fishing.
Several of the other fishermen left the waters to go watch “the game” on TV.
My pal Ted was there too, so I introduced them and we three watched the moon’s slow rise casting its glow over lake Michigan as we pitched our lures into the dark abyss. Anthony and Ted were joking that THIS is “the game” for us! Which I wholeheartedly agreed.
There was a lull in conversation, so I glanced at Anthony to find his face, rigid and stern.
His fishing rod gave evidence that he caught a big one. “You got a fish on??!!” I cried in excitement. We needed no reply. Ted and I put our rods down and grabbed our flashlights while Anthony held firm his catch. “Where is it Anthony?” I asked desperately. “I don’t know! It’s running!”’ His reel was peeling out, but soundless. I realized Anthony’s drag was not set right because he had little control of the line.
What I understand of Snagging, is that the drag should be loose. And apparently it was. I read somewhere that trying to set the drag while a fish is on, is a very bad idea. Having no idea how much line he had on his reel, I suggested he tighten up the drag anyway. All this is going on while our flashlights and headlights are searching the dark waters for the line and that fish. Finally we spotted the catch before it took off again into the black waters.
Anthony was standing atop some rocks and he had begun to “dance” back and forth following the leading fish.
“Hold your ground man! Don’t let the fish lead you!!” I yelled. He yelled back excitedly, “One of you get the net!” I grabbed mine. “No” he yelled, “use mine!” Grabbing his net and frustrated, “I can’t get the handle to extend!”
“Just pull on it!” he urged.
I yanked harder and it opened, I gave it to Ted, who said I should net it (?) well alrightie then! Anthony’s net was much larger than mine, very deep and from what we could see, this not going to be an 8 pound fish.
Ted and I were reporting to Anthony where it was, where it went and where did it go? Anthony could hear us repeatedly saying “Bring it over here! Over here!!!!!” If anyone were close-by they would have thought we lost something of great value, like a child for all the commotion that was going on.
I stretched my body over the cold ground, my arm extended trying to see the line in the weak light of the flashlight Ted held and my headlight. The dark waters seems to swallow the light. Ted decided to grab my net and lie on the ground a few feet away from me, as a back-up, just in case this fish tried to get away from me. We were both determined to nab it for Anthony.
“We see it! We see it!!!!!! Bring her in!” Ted happened to notice Anthony’s line was caught on the concrete slab and Anthony lept down from the rocks to free the line before he lost his nights work.
I told Anthony to stand directly behind me, as I had learned from more experienced shore fisherman who net for me. This way the fish would be closer to my reach and I swooped it in safely, but not up. This one was way too heavy for me to swing over the concrete.
“Ted! I can’t lift it any higher!” I can imagine the worried and concerned look on Anthony’s face. Ted seized the net lifting it up and away from the water.
Way to go! Anthony was beaming with pride and such a winning grin. We were all grinning and hugging. Anthony thanked us profusely. “I couldn’t’ve done it if you guys weren’t here!”
That Chinook was about 14 or 16 lbs and bearing a snagger’s scar in its side (see in photo). Which I pointed out to Anthony the marks of cruelty noting
how much more thrilling and challenging it is to use a lure/hook to retrieve your prize. I don’t know if he was convinced, but I know he had more fun and excitement doing it the angler’s way. That was all the excitement I could take and it was late. My thrill for the day was fulfilled in Anthony’s catch. Just being able to help, made me feel like a winner too.
My camera ready to freeze the moment and he flat out refuses to hold his catch.
Preposterous!
Anthony! Anthony! My wuss, Anthony.
TrishaDaFisha
Keep a wet line kids
