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Keep an eye on the water,
see the ripple over there.
Don’t lose patience,
don’t get discouraged.
The worm might have slipped
from the hook some time ago,
but all is well in the world.
You are here.
By asavas URL on 05.19.2015
He was in a mood of faking a sense of self-deprecation, with his oh-so sullen expression and a melancholic face that made him drown in mock pity as the person sitting behind him realized one thing. He was fishing for compliments, taking those little tokens to make him feel a surge of happiness blossom in his chest.
By Coalline URL on 05.19.2015
I went fishing with my papa when I was little
I don’t know if I remember or I am just seeing pictures
I got stung by a catfish my papa caught at the cabin
I fell off the boat
Off the deck
By Hannah Rae on 05.19.2015
a man and his boy went to the lake one night to go fishing. They always went at night because the lake was always empty. Even though the boy was scared of the dark, he felt safe fishing with his father. His father had always said that the fish are easier to catch in the dark, since they are tired and not as quick to run away. The boy didn’t like to interrupt their slumber, but he followed what his dad wanted anyway.
By Breanna Wiskari on 05.19.2015
I took the rod from his hand, let him move my arm back and forth, speeding up slightly and then releasing. We sat and waited, he held me, I held the line. One minute or two, and pulled it back in. The fish waited under the surface to make their move.
By emay URL on 05.19.2015
For their first date, Susan and her boyfriend went fishing. It wasn’t a very conventional setting for a date, but they didn’t technically know it was a date at the time. When the day ended with Susan catching her first fish and sharing a kiss with her boyfriend to celebrate, they realized that they had just gone on their first date.
By Blunz URL on 05.19.2015
the line sinks and cuts the current
the line is both death and life,
in that life is change and choices
and the line, sunk as it is, cutting the current as it is,
forces the fish to choose a choice that wasn’t there before the line was there
the fish must go left, or right,
or become tangled and die
and such is life
By Benjie URL on 05.19.2015
Fishing? You want to ask me about fishing! Well bring up the armchair and settle in because do I have stories for you.
Of course you know that I fished on the Copper River flats in my own bowpicker — built in the 1970s as a high school project by a couple of kids that went on to become Seattle boat makers. You know I was a setnetter. And worked as a fish observer in the Gulf of Alaska, Bering Sea. Pollock, crab, skate, cod. Saw the Pribs, False Pass, Unalaska/Dutch — the whole South Bering Sea Islands. Wish I’d bought a pair of those sweatpants now.
Crabbers were the best — cleanest fishery I ever saw, next to salmon. You either pull up a pile of male crabs or a pile of females, and you can dump the females all out at once, right out of the pot into the ocean before they ever come aboard. Couldn’t take the groundfish — ought to close them all down, dirty fishery, bycatch all the time, holds filled with bycatch sometimes. Had to leave that.
Not much use for weekend fishers. Those pictures, all lined up arm to arm — it’s not right. They’ve messed up their own cricks, and their they are, most of them on someone else’s territory — Ahtna Athabascan, Dena’ina. Ought to leave the rivers to those that live there and take care of them.
Miss the old skiff. Miss summers in the setnet cabin. Don’t miss hanging upside down in the bilge desperately trying to fix something, get the engine started, slopping in the trough. Ups and downs, ups and downs.
By Kai URL on 05.19.2015
I went fishing last year.
By Renata Wendel on 05.19.2015
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.