I dropped a simple, small, buggy streamer in front of one of the fish visible in front of me. It engaged quickly, its dorsal fin began undulating. I braced myself as the fish unloaded on the fly with aggression entirely contrary to its prior sedentary appearance. I jammed the hook home hard, needing to use a lot of force to penetrate the bowfin's bony jaw. The water erupted and all the other fish spooked off, and I jumped out of the bushes and into the pond. The battle was a close-quarters one, with neither side willing to give and inch. Of course I had the advantage and this wasn't my first rodeo. I landed my first Connecticut bowfin of the year, albeit a month or two later than I'd have preferred.
Amia calva |
I let him go and looked around... everyone else had gone and hid.
The next day I decided to return. On initial inspection the pipe hole was devoid of bowfin. I quietly eased into the water for a better look. On closer inspection, I spotted a bowfin lying motionless in the weeds. I repeated the previous day's success almost verbatim. Another violent battle won, another living dinosaur to hand, with a variation of Drew Price's Mr. Bow-regard in his mouth.
These amazing fish may be some of the last standing in places most severely impacted by the Anthropocene. They are much maligned, but that, as is so often the case, is out of ignorance. I adore these fish, and I can't wait to catch the next one.
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.
So cool!
ReplyDeleteThanks.
DeleteWhat a survivor. Definitely worth the effort.
ReplyDeleteTie, fish, write, conserve and photo on...
Indeed.
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