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Donuts - A Soulful Experience
By Stephen Maas
I am sure there are plenty of anglers that exaggerate a little in the excitement of the moment and become an expert at enhancing his/her fishing triumphs. As a person I think it is built into our DNA to 'talk up' such things as fishing trip results, our wealth, or our physical attributes... among other things.
'What'd ya catch?' That is generally the first question mates ask when you say you've been out fishing. The answer then follows and as anglers normally includes a few fish stories (aka lies... or fishing tales), lol. What happens to those stories on the days that you don't catch? Is it about the big one that got away? Someone else was in your spot? Weather wasn't right? When the most inspired fishing plans fail, those stories then become excuses.
Zip, zero, skunked, donut... are all common terms used to phrase not catching a fish. Wikipedia describes donuts as a type of fried dough confection or dessert food... but for most, fishing donuts can be a hard thing to swallow. You'd be kidding yourself if you said you haven't had one of those fishing trips. Those days that you have when nothing goes to plan. Yeah, you've had them... we've all had a decent donut session.
On a recent trip away, with a couple of great mates, the anticipation was high. Months of planning, confirming dates and travel arrangements saw us on our way to the NSW high country to attempt something new for us. Having a bucket list of species that includes anything from marlin to trout, I was keen to cross one from the list. Now there isn't a lot of black marlin in those high-country streams, so a brown or rainbow trout would have to do, cooked over some hot coals. This is livin'... cross that one off the bucket list. Talk on the drive down guaranteed us all cricket scores of numbers caught, bag limits met, an experience we'd never forget!
Arriving just on sunset, there was enough time to rig up some Mepps spinners for a quick recon of a stretch of river near base camp. Nothing caught in the first quick session, so a BBQ feed to settle the belly rumbles and then the swags were out for a sleep out under the stars.
A cool, crisp morning greeted us. The sun's rays broke the horizon, beaming through the trees and fog across the lush green high-country paddocks and streams, creating a scene that could have placed us in Tasmania or a New Zealand setting. A truly magic vista.
The eagerness that we had changed rapidly, after hundreds of casts and kilometers of hiking streams in search of our target species. We had very few fish sighted... was that a trout... was it just a leaf falling into the water... maybe a bit of weed floating or was it just our imagination, hoping for something to happen? It started to feel like if you did catch one it'd be bad; you caught the last man standing.
I'm sure that I can talk on behalf of my fishing mates when I say that on this particular trip, a fish would have been a bonus. We were hiking through country that was unfortunately ravaged by previous bushfires, however the first signs of life emerging was a sight to see. Tree ferns were sending out new fronds in the black charcoal undergrowth and skinks were scurrying around the charred rocks. The was also the banter and laughter, with mates Jed and Camo, as a wild cast hooked an overhanging branch. It was even just the silence of taking in the stunning views and surroundings. It wasn't that no one had anything to say, it was more that nothing needed to be said.
Enjoying the area that we were in and each other's company far outweighed the overlaying topic of the donut. Just those few points made the failed catching more palatable, knowing that you added something to your mind even though we didn't add anything to the BBQ plate or cross that fish off the bucket list.
Without sounding too negative, getting a dount or a fishless trip can be considered a failure. It is understandable that failure is a part and a reality of the busy lives that we live, so how we deal with failure is a true test of our character. I think most sportsmen and women, and especially anglers, are very competitive by nature. We want to do the best we can, whether it be just a social fish or competitive fishing tournaments. For me personally and I'm sure many of my mates in the early years when we started doing kayak fishing tournaments, getting a dount was gut wrenching and took weeks to get over... never fishing again... selling all my gear... that was the feeling.
I guess with a bit of maturity and not just fishing but life experience, we grow and develop and are able to cope with the failure. I don't think it's making up new excuses, we just learn different methods of dealing with it.
I had an uncle, a very knowledgeable man who was a champion competitive axe man and during a visit to his family property I was outside talking to him. With the noise of half a dozen feral kids running around (mine included), television going, along with other background noises, we were still able to identify several bird species a fair way down the valley. He told me that was one thing he tried do before a wood chop at a show and still regularly at home in later years. Try and listen for birds. When you can block out all the other noises and hear a whip bird, currawong, pheasant, etc., across the paddock, you know your head is in a good place. It's certainly something that I now do when I need to defrag the mind.
The list of other things that you get from a bad day fishing is almost endless and includes relaxation, sights, fresh air, adventure, friendships, meditation... these things alone give you a reason not to make failure personal. Use that same approach as fishing with general day to day living. Don't dwell on the things you can't change, take stock, learn and adapt. By looking at the other positives, you can create a different and positive point of view.
Fishing for me has given me so much... not just fresh fish meals. It's given me my friendships and my relationships with my family. It has brought me, in a way, to feel closer and at peace with myself and close and at peace with the environment. Not just seeing the nature and landscape, rather seeing and hearing what is within in it.
Our daily lives have gotten particularly congested, stressful and loud.
I think anyone can benefit from some silence and some solitude.
Fishing offers that.
It is a healthy thing to do, to go and find silence...
fish are a bonus!
In memory of Col