You're Gonna Bleed

Unlike fishing for walleyes, muskie fishing requires a very different approach, but with no less joy and delight.  Muskies are often referred to as “the fish of 10,000 casts,” meaning that catching muskies is difficult and takes time and patience – especially in cold weather!  But we were willing. 

We found ourselves once again in Ontario, this time in the late fall, fishing for the king of those waters: the muskellunge.  As is typical for the Canadian autumn, it was cold and wet.  Each day we had to summon up the diligence to go back out into the miserable weather. 

On the boat, we would put out three lines, each hook baited with a “minnow” (a sucker fish approximately 18 inches long).  These minnows would be trolled behind the boat, enticing a hungry muskie to come and make his move. 

When fishing muskies in this manner with other people, it’s common for each fisherman to take a turn “on the reel,” meaning that each of the three lines in the water belonged to one fisherman.  Once an opportunity to catch a fish came, the designated guy on the reel would be the one to reel it in – or not.  When you had your opportunity – whether or not you actually landed the fish – the next guy would get his turn on the reel. 

On this particular day, it was my turn to be first on the reel.  Our lines went into the water, and we trolled, and waited.  An hour went by.  Then two.  Then three.  I don’t recall exactly how long we waited, but it was definitely for a number of hours.  Then, without warning, a muskie struck. 

Our guide, a gregarious man named Colin, shouted that a fish was on, and he yelled at me to grab the rod out of the rod-holder.  It’s hard to describe if you’ve never experienced it, but when a muskie hits a bait, absolute chaos ensues.  Muskies are elusive fish and hard to catch.  They’re also enormous, often 40-50 inches in length, if not larger, and have a strength that matches their size.  It’s entirely common for a muskie to snap a line, shake off the hook, or otherwise escape after he hits the bait.  Put simply, when a muskie strikes, there’s no guarantee that you’re going to land him, so when the strike comes everyone on the boat works hard and fast to do everything they can to get the fish in the boat as fast as possible. 

Another oddity about muskie fishing is that it is strictly catch and release.  No muskies are ever kept for food, trophies, or any other reason.  So all of this effort goes into the process for nothing more than a memory and a photograph.  Also, in spite of what their size and strength may suggest, muskies are surprisingly delicate fish.  They expend so much energy during the fight against the fisherman that it is possible that the process could end in their deaths.  So another part of the urgency felt by the fishermen is to land the fish as quickly as possible and to release it as quickly as possible so as to minimize any injury the fish may incur during the fight. 

This particular muskie hit the bait – hard – and took off.  Colin screamed at me to get the rod as he put the boat in gear to follow the fish so as to minimize drag.  Wayne, a friend who was fishing with me, started reeling in the other lines so that they wouldn’t get tangled with my line that had the fish on it, and got ready to do whatever he could to aid in the rest of the process.  It was pandemonium.  I was reeling as hard and as fast as I could; the boat was moving so as to get the fish landed as quickly as possible; Wayne was prepping the net and other supplies.  There was shouting, grunting, and chaos. 

Finally, the fish was close enough to land, which Colin skillfully did with the enormous muskie net.  As the fish languished in the net (still in the water), Colin shouted at me, “There are some gloves by the console!  Put them on!”  I looked towards the console and saw the gloves he was referring to.  I then looked down at my hands and noticed that my left hand was covered in blood.  I had no idea why, or where the blood had come from. 

I shouted back to Colin, “I can’t put on your gloves.  I’ve got blood all over my hand!” 

“I’ll get new gloves!” Colin bellowed.  “Just put the gloves on NOW!”

Gloves are important when it comes to handling muskies.  Muskies produce a slime that covers their bodies which helps them to regulate their body temperature, and has other biological purposes.  Preserving their health during the fishing process means removing as little of that slime as possible.  Plus, the slime makes the fish slippery and harder to handle.  If the fish is dropped on the deck of the boat, it could be severely injured and even die.  The gloves help to protect the fish from this undesirable outcome. 

I put the gloves on and Colin hoisted the 46-inch fish out of the net and handed it to me, which I held just long enough for Wayne to snap a couple of pictures.  Then I gave the fish back to Colin and he gently released it back into the water.  To our relief, the fish revived quickly and slowly swam away. 

What happened next is something I’ll never forget.  There was such an outpouring of joy and excitement among the three men on that boat, myself included.  There was jumping, hooting and hollering, high-fiving, and even chest-bumping.  If we weren’t on a small boat, I would have expected someone to do a cartwheel or a backflip.  An outside observer would think we had just scored the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl.  It was one of the most intense outpourings of joy and excitement I have ever experienced.  We had put in a lot of time and effort into that fish.  We got to see it close up, and to touch it and experience it in all its glory, in its own habitat.  It was incredible. 

But what about that blood that I discovered on my hand half way through the process?  Once the fish had swam off and our excitement had died down, I rinsed my hands off in the lake water and discovered a significant laceration on the index finger of my left hand.  Somehow, and without my knowledge, when I was reeling in that fish with every ounce of strength and intensity I had in me, my finger was cut, and bled profusely.  Later, I apologized to Colin for objecting to put on the gloves because of the blood, thereby delaying the landing of the fish. 

“That’s OK,” he said.  “Now, for next time you know that if you’re going to catch a muskie, you’re gonna bleed.”  In hindsight, the tradeoff was worth it.

Excerpt from "A Glorious Arrangement: Christian thoughts on hunting, fishing, and creation" by Joel Detlefsen