A Less Than Magnificent Obsession
An obsession has two possible sources, one is necessity and the other is psychological.
A native on a Pacific atoll must fish almost daily despite the dangers weather and sea may present.
The fishing obsession discussed here is psychologically driven and has no basis in logic. Outsiders often look askance at the observed behavior of myself and fellow addicts in the pursuit of our quest. In the neighborhood I'm known as a fisherman, but clearly not a catcher-man.
So, what's the deal with my sport fishing? The time and treasure spent so far could have built at least one pyramid. If fortunate enough to successfully snag something that is not a prohibited species or undersize, I normally release it. If I liked fish, I would certainly fare much better visiting the market. Even by casual calculation, after rod and tackle, gas and boat outlays, my edible fishing harvest is priced in the neighborhood of $85.00 per pound.
There are certainly many other areas not only deserving but needing my time such as paying bills, filing tax returns and cleaning. But my obsession must go deeper, because I also forego enjoyable activities so that I may pursue underwater denizens.
A typical fishing trip includes a superficial version of Santiago's aching back, cut and sore fingers, sunburn and bouts of mild hunger and thirst. But the one thing we both fully share is the thrill of the tug on our line. Have I finally outwitted Jaws? What character flaw allows me to have such a vaunted sense of superiority over the unfortunate creature at the other end of the line, a creature having a less than reptilian brain? Nevertheless, the thrill is there - it is very real and the effect is heightened by the boring prelude to fooling this poor animal into thinking I am trying to feed it.
In my case I have an explanation for why the gods haven't favored me with success pursuing my obsession: I am an ingrate. On a trip long ago, after observing an immense creature visiting my small boat, I actually uttered the words " I hope it doesn't take my hook!"
George "Mo" Mouzakis, Naples, Florida
"The Key to Life is How Well You Handle Plan B"
