Quarantine got me hooked on fishing
I consider myself a city girl. For the past 22 years, my summer leisure time has been filled with exploring art museums, having dinner with friends and family, and attending major league sporting events.
Summer 2020 was unconventional for me, as it was for everyone. As June rolled around, I started thinking of ways to occupy my free time while taking the right precautions to protect myself and my community from COVID-19. I knew this meant avoiding big crowds and enclosed spaces and limiting my social circle. It was time to find a new hobby.
Prior to joining the Service, I assumed fishing wasn’t for me. All the people I knew that fished were male and veterans of the sport. Plus, their catches seemed to be half my size! Needless to say, it was intimidating.
Through my colleagues, I became more familiar with the potential fishing held. I didn’t need a boat or an impressive assortment of pictures of me holding my giant catches. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it might serve me well to check it out. Why not give fishing a try?
On a cloudy August afternoon, a couple of my friends and I loaded fishing line, live bait, and poles into our cars and headed out to Lake Wildwood in Upton, Massachusetts. The lake is tucked gently behind a dirt road. The water’s edge was filled with clumps of algae, but 20 feet back from the grassy shore, it was clear enough to reveal the sand below.
I don’t handle worms often, so the bait was my first hurdle. After some struggle and many failed attempts, I finally fastened the worm onto the hook.
I cast my line and was impressed by the placement of my first cast. Within minutes, I could see the fish swarming at the invertebrate offering. Before I knew it, I felt the tug of one nibbling at the bait.
These fish were smart; they knew to pick the worm in sections rather than clamping onto the hook. That knowledge must come from experience I thought to myself. There were more times than I’d like to admit where the fish picked my hook clean.
As I semi-patiently waited for my next tug, my friend began to reel in a fish. As quickly as he could say “I caught one,” I reeled in my line, not even bothering to check my hook. I had to see that thing up close!
A bass dangled from his line. As we worked to get it off the hook, the fish opened its mouth wide and flared its gills. To my amazement, their edges weren’t attached to the body. Instead, they opened so far that I could see the sand on the beach behind. As soon as the bass was released back into the lake, it fled the scene as soon as possible.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, my friend caught a sunfish as well. Once it was out of the water, the dorsal fins were raised high in self-defense. I went to touch the fins and ouch! They were a lot sharper than I anticipated, so we let it go quickly, too. There’s nothing like receiving a lesson in fish anatomy from Mother Nature herself!
Fish weren’t the only thing caught that day. At one point we managed to coax a female painted turtle out of the water, which we admired before setting free.
Even though I left without a catch that day, I was determined to return to the water soon. Maybe then I’d have more luck.
A few weeks passed, and I decided to try Pratt Pond, another popular fishing spot in Upton. And after a few casts, a handful of tugs, and trial and error, I reeled in my first catch!
I must have caught the smallest minnow in all of Pratt Pond. Nevertheless, I beamed with pride before setting it free.
Maybe one day I’ll move up the food chain and catch a three-foot-long striped bass on the open seas. But until then, I’ll just enjoy this new hobby in any form because I now know fishing isn’t about conquering a body of water. It’s about taking the time to slow down and admire the life within.
Trying unfamiliar outdoor activities can be intimidating. But with the right resources, anyone can have fun and feel part of nature. Find out how to get started by visiting https://www.fws.gov/fishing/ or at https://www.fws.gov/refuges/fishingguide/.
