Thank You, Duck Dynasty

Duck Dynasty

Here’s what I learned from the opening episode of A&E's Duck Dynasty (in 24 minutes or less!) 

You need to marinate your frogs in buttermilk before you fry ‘em.  How much buttermilk?  “No amount.  Any amount.”

You’ll know when you get it right.

I love this philosophy; it might be the Yin to my Yan of Omnihilism.  

While I'm precisely placing, tracking and replicating specifically chosen baits while trolling for pike, trout or salmon, my buddy is kind of just throwing lures out there and dragging them around.  His lures are no distance (or any distance) behind the boat.  Some days he even outfishes me, and he just about always enjoys himself more than I do.  So I know he's on to something, and I know I should take the philosophy of Duck Dynasty's patriarch to heart.

And yet on the day I published "Omnihilism", I went fishing on Reeds Lake.  It was the best Wednesday in several months, because I took some time off work to execute a plan.  I targeted bass and pike, and I cast, jigged, and trolled; I used flat-lines, planer boards, and downriggers; reels were loaded with mono, fluoro, braid and lead core; I had two separate, filled tackle storage systems, a zillion lures and used a dozen different rods over the course of the day.  Once again, I was doing it all, with the exception of fishing "how I usually do."  Instead I was concentrating on new areas, lures and techniques.  When the bass fishing crapped out (in anything from 2 to 45 feet of water), I turned to my pike.  One hundred yards into the first troll with different lures away from the weed-edge and in deeper water, my Purpledecent Rapala Tail-Dancer was hit by a 28" pike; and in short order, I had gone 7 for 8 with 6 pike between 26 and 30 inches; a smaller pike, a perch, and a few other swings and misses.  And all fish were taken in deep water, usually over 25 feet or more, and in my first attempt on Reeds Lake, I'd caught a few downrigger pike.  The first rigger pike was the biggest of the day at 30 inches; and these deeper fish were fat compared to the stressed fish I've been encountering shallow in recent trips.

This Purple Rap quickly became a favorite of mine!

30 inches of fat pike, off the downrigger!

One of my rigger hits was extremely violent, but then I was greeted with a slack line; the lure was simply gone.  It could have been a pike of nearly any size, or no size at all, but part of me likes to envision a real lunker. 

So you can teach an old dog some new tricks, and while I'd taken a precise approach to the day, and it required a ton of tackle and effort, in the end I'd gotten it right.  Just like those frog legs.

Omnihilism

Omnihilism

Something that has been on my mind lately is my concept of “Everynothing”.  This concept touches various aspects of my life, from work through fishing, and I’m struggling with my position with respect to Omnihilism.  I hate it; I respect it.  I don’t know if I’m a devotee to this concept; or a warrior against it.

One beautiful morning this May, I launched Numenon in Muskegon.  I was by myself, and weather conditions had been a bit unsettled; I didn’t really know what conditions to expect.  I had 21 rods rigged and ready, with others in reserve, and I had lofty goals for the day.  I was going to do it all.  Specifically, after securing a legal DNR limit of Great Lakes trout and salmon, I’d continue fishing for early season catch and release bass, with the goal of momentarily capturing an emulated DNR “limit” of bass.  Five hard-fighting silver fish, and five bass over 14 inches, all in the same day, with one launch of the boat.  What could be better?  What could be a grander celebration of Spring and the various opportunities she affords us here in Michigan?

The fishing got off to a splendid start, and I quickly caught and released my first salmon of the day.  (Because most spring salmon are eminently releasable, and because of my need for space for gear, and for a clear front deck while bass fishing later, there was no cooler.  I planned to release all Great Lakes fish this day, unless they were badly damaged during the fight.  To  minimize damage to the fish and to save some more space, I also chose not to net any fish this day.)  Decent fishing continued, and when I was 1 for 3 by 8 AM, having lost a couple of dandy fish (no netting today!),  I was still pretty confident in my chances for securing my Great Lakes limit for the day in a timely fashion.  But no net means more lost fish, and when I experienced a case of rubber hooks, compounded by a rare broken split ring on perhaps the largest Great Lakes fish of the year; at 10:30 AM or so I was starting to feel the pressure of my goals.

Deep Water, Blue Dolphin, Bright Fish

Broken split rings just don't happen on my boat!

At Noon, I pulled the plug, having gone “4-for-8”, one fish short of my goal but still pleased with my effort.  I’d had my chances, after all, and I was looking forward to some easy pre-spawn, shallow water bassin.’  By 12:30 PM, I was in place, and my chosen spot was loaded with the biggest congregation of visible, pre-spawn largemouth bass that I’ve ever encountered on Muskegon Lake.  But after an hour or more I realized that I could NOT get them to bite, and with a quick relocation and set of experimental casts, I realized I’d be better off (and more productive) by blind-casting likely areas.  So with two legal-sized largemouths in 20 minutes, I was once again feeling confident that I’d reach one of my goals for the day.  But then Mother Nature intervened and she started blowing; I pretty much lost my ability to control the boat or my baits where I knew there were fish; and an hour later, I knew it wasn’t meant to be, not this day.

Smallish keeper largemouth

So I came off the water, having achieved neither of my goals.  In fact, I didn’t even have any food fish, since I’d chosen to not bring the cooler.  In a sense, I’d achieved nothing, and had nothing to show for my intensive efforts.  And yet, I think if I adopt this way of thinking, I’m a victim of Omnihilism.  For surely there’s something to be had from these ideas, efforts and experiences, and I don’t want to fall into a manner of thinking where I can’t appreciate the boat, the setting, the opportunity, or the physical grace and beauty of the fish I’d encountered.

Imagine my surprise while I was ruminating these concepts when Jon Stewart summarized a portion of the 2012 Presidential Republican Convention with the simple phrase “Everynothing!”  Why not promise everything with nothing behind the promise?

I’ve been battling “Everynothing” at work for a decade or more.  We all recognize that resources are scarce, and we’re used to doing more with less.  In fact, we’re seemingly doing more, better and faster, with less.  And yet, if we’ve already done it, why not do it again?  Why not do it even better, faster, with even less?  Perhaps we’re achieving what was once thought to be inconceivable or impossible.  And yet, in our efforts, I can’t help but feel that we’re missing something of importance.  When you’re too busy doing something to analyze how or why you’re doing it, there’s a reason for pause; and yet when you’re that busy, you’re not likely to avail yourself to that opportunity.  You might not realize that your efforts could be misdirected, or that you’re in the position of possibly accomplishing nothing.

So we keep on going, adapting to circumstances and yet stressed, bent and disfigured.  We might convince ourselves that we’re thriving and progressing because we’re not broken.  But is bending somehow worse than breaking?  General Robert E. Lee had a bit of a riding mishap during the 2^nd Battle of Bull Run, and Jeff Shaara reports in “Gods and Generals” that General Lee broke one hand and sprained the other.  General Lee himself wondered aloud how the pain of the sprain could exceed that of the break.  I can report myself that the sprains have tormented me longer than the broken bones, and they’re the injuries that are likely to persist and re-occur.  But let’s face it; it’s human nature to fix or consciously abandon something that’s broken; but to patch up, prop up, adapt to or otherwise accommodate something that still seems to be serviceable.  A break gets the attention, the cred.  Maybe breaking is a relatively good thing, because it might force the issue of a rational assessment of the situation and confrontation with the future, instead of just going along with the tide.

So maybe trying to have it all, to accomodate everybody's interests, or to just plain Live Large has it's drawbacks.  And yet I can’t get away from the simple beauty and intrinsic value of the idea of a quest itself.  Surely any Grand Vision associated with any venture guides events to fruition.   Surely one’s better off for having attempted the quest.  And the motivational force of the goals of the quest must have value, and at the least, getting back to the original May event, I’m better off for having encountered each of the fish of the day.  This should probably be more about the process than the stark reality of the results.  But when results seem to mean everything (such as in our everyday life), does the process mean anything?  Can we even allow ourselves to think this way?

Shith, this essay has kind of become an example of “Everynothing” itself.  A whole bunch of ideas and effort, but perhaps not much impact.

Regardless, I’ll be back in Muskegon this fall.  I can’t help but imagine the day with a limit or two of vertically jigged morning walleyes, accompanied by a limit or two of silvery steelies and salmon.  I could probably get by with only 10 rods; I’ll have room for the cooler, maybe even for a buddy with which to share the day!

Fall Silver

Muskegon Walleyes

Cryptozoology

Cryptozoology

I’m a “Fact and Science Guy”, a degreed Zoologist, and so maybe it’s surprising that I have an interest in cryptozoology, i.e., the biology of unknown animals.  Let’s face it, virtually every society has a version of the Abominable Snowman.  Whether he’s known locally as Yeti, Skunk Ape, Dog Man, or Chupacabra, our friend Sasquatch has a continuing occurrence in our lore.  And don’t forget Kraken and Giant Squid.  There’s a reason for their persistent and consistent presence, and as a scientist, I’ll be the first to admit that we don’t know everything; so why not entertain the notion of our unknown companions?

And entertaining this notion is.  Cryptozoology first crept into my adult awareness 15 or so years ago, when red-eyed, iron-clawed Monkey Man hysteria swept through a major Indian city.  Apparently one couldn’t sleep through the night on one’s roof without encountering him, and several folks chose the option of jumping to their deaths instead of facing him.  While this isn’t exactly entertaining, it was a slow, hot summer for comedians, and so David Letterman asked, “Why can’t we have a Monkey Man?”  I’m sure it would have spiced up his material for a time.

But then, lo and behold, we did get our Monkey Man.  Sasquatch started starring in a series of TV commercials (infantile bro-humor sells!); and a couple of shows outlined our modern search for him.  I love the portrayal of “science” in these shows, and I love the internal skepticism of this “science” within the shows.  Occam’s Razor has no place in the hunt for Sasquatch; and if science can’t immediately prove a position wrong, then the position must be correct!

(At this time, please take a moment to reflect upon what this means about our perception of science, and the adaptation of such a style of thinking to politics.)

But how can I not appreciate the irony of a recent, sad incident.  When a young man tried to incite some local Sasquatch Fever by getting dressed up and providing a few sightings, he was almost immediately run down by multiple motorists, none of whom apparently saw him.  Clearly, Sasquatch is so elusive that we can’t even see imitators of him or his lifestyle.

Judgment to Value

I’ve had the good fortune of participating in my employer’s “Leadership Academy”.  On our first day together, I received results of a survey of my behaviors and social characteristics, as perceived by work-mates and partners.  These indicated excellent reception from the surveyed participants, but I knew this was a relatively “safe” subset of the people with whom I frequently interact in the workplace.  So despite these positive results, deep down I knew I was conflicted.  I knew how difficult it was for me sometimes to accept and respect my teammates’ participation and input.  At the time, I’d probably rather work by myself, angry, than have to graciously accept the input of a less-than-perfectly-informed-or-committed partner. 

Fortunately, during this first session of the Academy, the concept of the climbing the “Judging to Value” ladder was introduced, almost as an afterthought.  The idea here is to allow one to progress from judgment of others; through acceptance and respect, to a state of truly valuing them.  This concept became crucial to me as I realized that I was judgmental and under-valued the contributions of others.  I had allowed only a very few people to earn my full respect. I further realized that more people probably deserved this respect.  I’d personally benefit if I were more inclusive and respectful to others.  I was also fortunate to realize early in the process that this experience wasn’t just about work; it could help me be a better person.  I’d benefit from reduced frustration and greater happiness; those around me would benefit from my new and improved outlook.  Maybe we’d all benefit from greater effectiveness in our common pursuits.

Accordingly, during the Academy (and there-after!), many of my efforts pertained to active listening, sharing my thoughts more freely, inclusion of others, appreciation of others (both in my private reflections and also publicly), and rallying teammates and partners toward our common goals.

I did a lot of reading and reflection.  Most of my reading choices emphasized leadership skills in action, especially within a historical context (explorations, battles, etc.)  Not only were these accounts more interesting to read than most current biz-buzz type self-improvement books, they demonstrated how true leadership affects outcomes that really matter, both on a large scale, but also for the immediate welfare of the leader’s teammates, partners, co-workers and “employees”.

One of the books I read (much to the amusement and disbelief of my immediate family!) was ‘The Journals of Lewis and Clark’, edited by Bernard DeVoto.  The Introduction (see especially Section 6) to this work emphasizes the importance of the Missouri Purchase and explorations to our nation’s history, while briefly examining the skills of Lewis and Clark that enabled their success.   So many of these skills seem obvious, but complementary skill sets and teamwork; ingenuity and resourcefulness; technical skills; and respect (earned and given) are identified.   However, Lewis and Clark’s greatest achievements were in dealing with indigenous people; and here they were “obviously friendly and fair, scrupulously honest, interested, understanding, courteous, and respectful...Lewis and Clark respected the Indians’ personal dignity…It paid off. (Introduction, page lv).”

Let’s face it, these are not bad recipes for dealing with any partner or teammate, and while we all should have apparently learned these skills in kindergarten, not all of us attended kindergarten.  Trust is earned.  Our actions must be consistent with our communications.  Relationships are built on this earned trust, but this takes time.  By partnering and teaming with those with whom we share mutual trust, we can achieve a higher goal or create a better work product than one can by working alone.  Without that trust, our effectiveness is diminished.

I’ve always had a bias for technical superiority; that’s long been a goal and a source of pride to me.  However, these realizations have made it clear that this is just one aspect of my work, life, and value.  I’ve grown to a fuller understanding of how we interact with and are perceived by others.  I now realize that our technical expertise is most productively applied when we’ve built relationships.  Without the foundation of trust, “what we can do” may not be asked for, realized, or respected.  I’m also more likely to recognize, seek, value and benefit from the “non-technical” skills of those around me, hopefully to our mutual benefit.

So what’s this got to do with my boat, my fishing, my Numenon?  I continue to strive to incorporate these simple concepts into my daily life.  I think my relationships with others have benefited, and my active appreciation of these relationships has improved the quality of our shared experiences.  There was a time when I would hope that a person leaving my boat after a day’s fishing would say, “That guy can fish!”  Now I’d rather hear, “What a nice guy to fish with!”  While I suspect that any given day is better with more fish as opposed to fewer fish, or bigger fish as compared to smaller fish, the key to really sharing an experience is to focus on the people involved, and the physical setting of the pursuit,  not the fish.  Everybody’s got something to contribute, it’s fun to be open to new ideas and techniques, and isn’t it better to be perceived as a nice guy, rather than a pricka donna, regardless of how skilled?

New-to-me Water

DATE: September 15, 2012

LOCATION:    Grand River, Riverside Park

With:  Alone, Arracuda        

TIME:             9:30 AM – 1 PM

HOURS:          3.5

WEATHER/CONDITIONS: Clear and pretty calm; following the chilliest night of the season; a little post cold-fronty and very clear water (>6 feet)

At the odd time of 9:30 AM I launched the Arracuda on new-to-me water; the Grand River at Riverside Park.  I couldn’t use the southernmost ramp because bikers and such (non-trailers) had taken all the parking; and was surprised to see that there was no trailer parking planned or available at the middle ramp.  I was also excited to be sharing the park with 10,000 dogs and owners, as it is “Dog in the Park Day”: I hadn’t attended this event since Katie was in a stroller.  But pretty uneventfully, I launched her, separated the trailer from the truck, parked, and set out.  I was please to see that the Lowrance Finder from the front of Numenon works fine with the Arracuda set-up; her actual finder is in Benzie County on another boat at the moment.

Today’s published flow for the Grand is 1150 cfs; this is only about 2/3 median flow for the date.

Grand River?  Connecticut River?

I was surprised at the clarity of the water (easily over 5 feet, even with the low sun angle; and definitely over 6 feet later in the day with a higher sun), and with low flow conditions, a lot of the woody cover I expected to fish was actually high and dry; I continued upriver until the deeper channel intersected the eastern shore, which was shadier in the morning.  My first cast with the senko got hit; and the tone for the day was kind of set, because it was a smallish fish that I didn’t land.  (I had lots of short strikes and missed fish today.)  But shortly thereafter a sub-legal pike came aboard, and so the skunk was out of the boat; and I went searching for some different fish.

And I saw a bunch of different fish!  Folks on shore were catching gills and crappies, I sight-fished for both kinds of bass and pike, the Grand is apparently a Quillback Carpsucker Mecca, and I even watched one lost steelhead roaming about; not to mention all the suckers and baitfish I saw. 

Across the river from where I started was a gravelly flat with sporadic weeds; and while I didn’t have any strikes here, I did see a number of legal bass (LMB and SMB), and I think this area will pay off with sluggos, rapalas or topwaters during low light periods in the future.  Moving upriver (near the bridges), I concentrated on rock piles, wood and shade; and things started to come together.  Most of the rest of the strikes came on senkos, although cranks, jerkbaits, swimbaits and worms were given a chance.  I ended up with several SMB to 16 inches (most were sublegal), one LMB of about 15”, a Newman, and a cut-off.  I also jumped and lost a few fish, including one gorgeously silhouetted SMB of probably 3 pounds; a very nice fish to lose.

Best fish of the day!

The fishing was good enough to keep me interested, and I’ll probably return.  I’d like to think I haven’t been overlooking this SMB water for the last 20 years; but I guess I have.  I’ve caught a bunch of smallies in the Grand, but they’ve tended towards the small size; and today’s 16-incher and the lost lunker were both much better than average.  So rethinking it,  I know I’ll be back.