Every time I shut my eyes I see the line on a cast out fishing rod tighten and jerk amongst the ripples. I feel tense and alert. The world around me stops. There is nothing else happening, like a freeze frame, where only the (cocktease) fish and I exist in the continuum of time.
Has he (the fish) taken a taste 3 times already? If so, I may have missed the opportune time to release more drag, providing the illusion that the delectable bait so freely provided, is that... Just free.
I aim to allow him to taste test to let him think he is testing me. No self respecting fish would run with a bait attached to anything!! My lord! No, they taste (and pressure test) all suspicious (exotic) looking food not native to their sections of the river at the current moon and seasonal influences.
Once counter tests are complete; the real mind battle (mind fuck) begins. If the tension upon reeling in is too taught, the swallowed/running in mouth bait will lunge from the mouth. While if too slack, the fish will soon catch on to the reality of their 'Suprise Snack' and spit out anything it holds, freely ale to do so with no tension.
Tension creates higher probability for the spike to catch onto the mouth as it spits bait back out, tearing through the side of the mouth, creating a beautiful display of man vs. fish pulling power to ensue.
I feel unattached, momentarily displaced, peacefully asleep to any life transformations or decisions I make and take everyday. If I want clarity, I sleep on it, if I can't wait till that night, I will try to fish. More often then not, I take a mental note, use a mental pen, and mentally scribe why I needed to escape. Then I put it on like an Americans baseball sideline bench to not let it interfere with me till required. Then on the weekend, I make time, escape, and then let all the sidelined issues have a bat and home run into retirement. By controlling and allowing how and when the obstacles affect my reactions, I balance each situation with a time of tranquil all at once on the weekend. Cue fishing
I also feel challenged by fishing because the only key to success is practice, trial and error, practice, learning from others where possible, practice. There is no rule book do's and don'ts. (I have every WA magazine subscriptions) There is shared knowledge more akin with Urban Legends, you only know once you've achieved it yourself. I went fishing, (and subsequently swimming from boredom) for 4 years without so much as a Bowie. I never knew how, only tried what I knew, but now I now, what I don't know, and that's a lot. I don't understand how it can't be perfected, figured out simpler. But rather than ponder with no progress, I take the only way possible. Start learning all I can. Then I can see if there is a simpler way to understand the knowledge in vast array.
So until that problem is solved (mastery of our closest alien Neighbour- the living of the sea) - understanding fish and fishing; I will forever find relaxation in the task of fishing, for learning is my most blessed indulgence in this life.
I feel inadequate in my ability to explain my thought process through free style writing. One thing that pisses me off is this pad auto correct. Worst ever because it's invisible!! You don't even know its change the word till you read over it again. Trying to dumb us down I see mr iPad. In fact it just pasted an entire paragraph after I typed that. Well played ye faithful portal of knowledge. I honestly believe everyone should have one. For those that seek to learn more about whatever they are interested in. Trombone Lessons, live updates, social connections to mutual enthusiasts. I even bought one last week for a Xmas present. Peace be to IPad.
Here are the latest Fishing Firsthand reports:
Mulloway - Could hear them at Narrows bridge, didn't take any live or dead bait. Saw plenty of cobler, caught a tailor and mullet (go figure) along with the few trumpeters. Blowies galore but out rigged them for the best part. No bream. Gibbons Moon, 4am till 7am Sunday 29th October.
Bream- That same day 7am - 10am Maylands Yacht Club, off the jetty. More blowies than a mandurah cinema's on a Thursday night. Old steak chops in a berley bucket distracted them like zombies to flesh. They just hovered in a trance around this rotten gift from the gods.
That's all folks.