Search
Latest Articles
Combat Fishing
by Scott T Starbuck, October 30, 2015
Relatively few can afford to fish alone in remote prime watersheds. This leaves anglers with two options: 1) spend years to find rare gems closer to home, or 2) combat fish in crowds. This article shows proven-effective ways to thrive in, or at least survive, your local combat fishery.
Be Weird to Drive Away Anglers
Point at the sky and say, “Man, did you see that? Another UFO. Wait! They are communicating with me. “ Close your eyes and hum like a broken blender that wants to start but can’t quite get there. Squint hard. “They say to try a number 4 green Mepps spinner with a piece of cocktail shrimp. No. Two pieces of shrimp.”
Barge into Private Conversations
Imagine two anglers are chest-deep in conversation. Speak – and this is very important – without waiting for the slightest hint of a clue of a pause. It’s like this: Gus: “That’s when the fish turned and ran toward the waterfall, and right when it looked like I was going to lose it over the edge . . .” You: (loud enough to remove paint from faraway Jeeps) “So my student says she’s worried about catching West Nile Virus from all the news reports. Can you believe it? I say ‘I know. I already caught Columbia River Virus.’ ‘What does it do?’ she asks. I say ‘It makes you want to fish. Har. Har. Har.’” Then laugh at your joke, even if, or especially if, no one else does.
Mark Your Territory
Use a can of glitter red spray paint to draw a border line in the sand between you and the other two anglers. Write “MINE” on your side and “YOURS” on the other sides. Shout menacingly at the other anglers, “I’m watching you, Kraven!”
If All Else Fails
Hide a bottle of ketchup up your sleeve then fling it over everyone as you clean your fish, saying “Sorry. Oh, sorry.” Wear sunglasses, pretend to be blind, and repeatedly cast across other lines, pausing each time to ask, “Was that cast good?” Say “You know that ‘Wanted’ sign in the local post office? That wasn’t me. No way.” Speak endlessly about your problems, accomplishments, and past lives; the more zany, the better. Pretend to be drunk. Stumble and fall a few times. Drop your rod and pick it up backwards. Sing “Moon River” off key, mixing in your own words. “Skagit River, wider than a mile, I’m plunking you in style some day. Dream maker. You pole breaker. Wherever you’re flowing, I’m taking my boat. Uh. Oh yeah. We’re after the same sockeye. Sockeye salmon. Sockeye.” Speak in a foreign language then get very, very angry when a nearby angler doesn’t understand. Drag in one of those plastic owls, place it behind you, and pretend to have a philosophical and/or political conversation with it. Ask the guy beside you if his eyes are real. Ask the guy beside you who he plans to vote for in the next presidential election then yell and curse at him no matter what he answers. Throw rocks in the river. Make sure other anglers are watching you. Then shout “Did you see that fish jump!” (You must be able to run away very fast if you try this.) Snag. Pretend it’s a fish for 20 minutes, telling everyone to get out of your way. Cry and throw a tantrum when you break it off. If fishing is slow, do your best Brando impersonation from On the Waterfront: “You were my fishing buddy, Charlie. You should have helped me a little bit. I could have caught a fish and taken it home. Now, thanks to you, I’m just another skunked fisherman. [Glare.] It wasn’t the gear, Charlie. It was you.”
The only combat fishing here is deciding what lure to use.
Scott T. Starbuck’s blog Trees, Fish, and Dreams is at riverseek.blogspot.com His fishing articles and poems have appeared in Yale Anglers´ Journal, Salmon Trout Steelheader, The Sunday Oregonian, Talking River at Lewis-Clark State College, Cascadia Review, and The Raven Chronicles in Seattle. His book of fishing poems, River Walker, in local libraries, sold out in less than a year. His next book of fishing poems, Lost Salmon, is forthcoming from MoonPath Press in Kingston, WA, in 2016.