Volume or Quality?

Once, on a fishing trip with friends in Captiva, Florida, we chartered a boat with Captain Jimmy.  Jimmy is a wonderful fishing guide, extremely knowledgeable about the local fishery, and always ready with a joke or funny story to make the time fly by, even when the bite is slow.  And he’s never satisfied with the catch; he always thinks we could do better, and he’s ready and willing to work for it.  The fishing fare in that part of Florida at that time of year is the Spotted Sea Trout, Sheepshead, Red Fish, Snook, and maybe even a Jack Crevalle every once in a while.  Each morning our group would split up between two boats, one captained by Jimmy, and the other by his cousin, Joe Fred, who was equally ready with funny stories and anecdotes.

We started this particular day of fishing around 9:00 in the morning, and took a short boat ride to our first fishing spot.  Our goal for the morning was to catch enough Sheepshead and/or Spotted Sea Trout to feed our group for lunch.  We’d catch the fish, clean them, put them on ice, and then bring them to a local restaurant that would put a blackened Cajun sear on them and serve them with creme fraiche.  You couldn’t ask for a better lunch!

The morning went as planned.  We threw out our jigs, using small shrimp as bait, and slowly but surely, we caught enough fish for lunch and began to make our way to the sea-side restaurant.  We enjoyed the fish, and then prepared to head back out to fish for the rest of the afternoon, although it would be strictly catch-and-release.

Our host for the trip had the idea of splitting up our group based on their fishing preferences.  Before we left the restaurant, he asked, “Who would like to fish this afternoon for volume, and who wants to fish for quality?”  In other words, what he was asking was if we would prefer to catch lots of smaller fish, or if we would prefer to catch fewer fish, but with a higher likelihood of catching large, trophy fish.  His thought was that we would split our group up in the afternoon based on what type of fishing we would prefer to do.  I considered the two options, and thought about which I would prefer.  After a brief time of reflection, I realized that I was mostly indifferent.  Catching lots of fish was fine, and so was catching fewer, but bigger fish.  I didn’t really care. 

But what I realized in that moment was that neither of those kinds of fishing appealed to me nearly as much as the fishing we had done that morning, when we were fishing for our food.  During that morning I didn’t care how big the fish were; I didn’t even really care what kind of fish it was, as long as it was an eater.  All I wanted that morning was to catch fish to eat that day for lunch.  And every fish that came into the boat towards that goal made me happy.  It was then that I realized that fishing for “quality or volume” didn’t appeal to me nearly as much as fishing for sustenance.  That is, I took the most satisfaction and fulfillment out of using the fish I caught for food. 

Why is it that I found the most fulfillment in fishing for my lunch?  I believe the reason is that hunting and fishing for sustenance is God’s most basic design and intention for these fish.  Every once in a while, he makes a big one that looks and feels impressive.  But his most basic purpose in creating fish was for me to use it as food.  And for whatever reason that I probably can’t fully explain, using the fish for the most basic reason God intended makes my day like almost nothing else.  I’d rather catch a small fish and eat it than catch a monster and hang it on my wall.  I understand that other people might feel differently, and that’s fine.  But for me, to know that God created that fish to sustain my body and life – and to use the fish for that exact purpose – is entirely satisfying and fulfilling. 

I had a similar experience fishing once in Ontario, Canada, where walleye and pike are the regular fare of the many lakes that occupy the region.  In fact, the walleye are so plentiful that it’s almost hard not to catch them.  And trophies abound.  There are some parts of Ontario in which 30-inch walleyes are relatively commonplace.  In fact, of all the places and species I’ve fished, fishing for walleyes in Canada is as good as it gets.  Once you’ve fished walleyes in Canada, everything else pales in comparison. 

As in Florida, the goal of each morning fishing in Canada is to catch the day’s lunch, which is typically enjoyed on a rocky island in the middle of a secluded lake and cooked over an open flame.  This meal (fried walleye and potatoes), known as “shore lunch,” is perhaps one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten.  I often tell people that if I were given the opportunity to choose the last meal I would eat before my death, it would be shore lunch (or maybe my mom’s lasagna – it’s a coin flip).  To be sure, the food itself is good.  Walleye is one of, if not the best eating fresh water fish.  But for me, the satisfaction of the meal is less about the food, and more about the reality that I, as a human being, have operated according to God’s design for me and have taken dominion over the earth by catching the fish and using them for nourishment.

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