Sunday, June 21, 2020

Convergence '20: It Begins Thusly

Later than I'd have liked, the first herring run bass of the year hit my hollow fly and peeled drag after I gave him a couple quick punches. It wasn't a big fish at all but very welcomed, these stripers are tied so tightly to my soul that to feel that grab and set the hook is no longer something I want but something I need. I'd already been out a half dozen times this year and though there'd been herring, at times lots, It'd felt lie there just weren't many bass around. This night, May 2nd, there still weren't many, but a modest amount of herring and bass were present. When I lipped the fish and and got another little blast of endorphins, all was right. He was a pretty little bass in the mid 20 inch range, the most abundant size of fish in the current fishery. In all likelihood this bass had wintered over in CT somewhere, and the first pushes of herring had drawn him from his winter holding place into this small tidal river. I gave him a kiss and whispered sweet nothings to him, aware that, to the fish, I was an annoyance at least and a threat of death at most, but I can't help but talk sweetly to a beautiful thing I love.


Not long later, I was greeted by another tug and gave it the tough love again. Another similarly sized bass made its way to hand, despite its best efforts to avoid me.


Another endorphin boost, another kiss on the head, another fish released... the herring run was beginning to feel official. I can't remember if I caught another fish that night. I could go back and look at my logs if I really felt like it, but I don't and I'm not going to. Though the season of mass convergence had started more than a month prior, I was just now finally joining the party. This year would be a strange one in every capacity. My drive was not what it had been other years and I would be so depressed at times it kept me from taking full advantage. I was in perhaps the worst mental health of my life, and though I at times tried not to let them, these fish, herring and stripers, that have become so important to me, managed to keep me from teetering over the edge. It would be, not to spoil it, the worst herring run year yet for me. But perhaps the most important. This year the convergence of baitfish, predator fish, and birds of prey would remind me what I need most out of life, and that if I don't let these fish and the places they live consume me wholly I'm more lost then ever.
Until next time,
Fish for the love of fish.
Fish for the love of places fish live.
Fish for you.
And stay safe and healthy.



Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, and Franky for supporting this blog on Patreon. 

8 comments:

  1. Something very therapeutic about fishing. Glad you are back doing what you are most passionate about.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Though I never really stopped, I've fished most days this year as with most, I definitely wasn't all there for a lot of them. It's good to e back "all there".

      Delete
  2. A little advice from an old man....do not listen to the news. Books magazines and even sit on the porch.
    Get close to the water.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. If you can believe it, I can't remember the last time I turned on the main stream news.

      Delete
  3. Just keep fishing, it repairs the soul and keeps your skill level up.
    Tie, fish, write, conserve and photo on...

    ReplyDelete