My new favorite summer hobby is
spearfishing. It combines fishing and snorkeling, two activities that I enjoy,
but it doesn’t just combine those activities but improves on them. It is better
than normal fishing because I get fish to eat (in theory), but I get to see
them, and interact with them in a way that is more similar to hunting than
normal fishing. Spearfishing improves on snorkeling because I have a good
reason to push my limits physically, and I get to carry weapons. Spearfishing
is also just intrinsically bad ass all by itself. You don’t have to wear a
shirt while you are doing it, and the end goal is to stab some smug fish right in
the face (they think they’re so cool breathing water and not paying taxes).
Catching fish while spearfishing is also called taking fish, which is
stupendous. It is like some sort of sweet text adventure.
>inventory
You are carrying: swim fin x2, snorkel,
mask, weight belt, diver down flag, diving knife, pole spear
>go west
You go west. There are submerged trees
here. There are fish here.
>look fish
You see carp of various sizes all
around you, a catfish laying on the bottom, two northern pike swimming in the
trees, and one walleye ahead.
>take walleye
You use your pole spear to take the
walleye.
Congratulation! You have completed Dive
Quest! You score 8.3 out of a possible
8.7 points!
It was the 3rd of
July. There were light clouds in the sky, a light south wind, and temperatures
in the high 90’s. I had been out diving about a half dozen times before, seeing
a total of two walleye, without ever getting close to spearing something (I
won’t kill anything that I won’t eat, which includes the carp and catfish that
had been my only reachable targets so far). I went to my usual spot out at the end
of the quasi peninsula between Cow and Spring Creeks, for people familiar with
the Pierre area (a latitude and longitude of 44°33’23”N and 100°29’56”W,
for people not familiar with the area, who are also map nerds). The spot
featured nice sandy (aka some sand, some razor sharp gravel) beaches, and
plenty or area to look for fish in, as long as I wasn’t being boxed out by the
detestable boat fishermen. I was going to try a point that I hadn’t previously
explored, but had seen some of the aforementioned boat fishermen at (seriously
what is up with those guys?). My main goal was to perfect my diving technique
using my new weight belt, and I wasn’t really expecting to see any walleye. The
south side of the point was an insipid rocky ledge that held some hope of
housing walleye, but planed off at too shallow a depth to be really viable. Visibility
was excellent (for the area), and I could see at least 20 feet in the water. The only fish I saw were the
always pervasive carp, and a few bass.
I had gone about 150 yards offshore and there was no real change in the
ledge, or fish population, so I decided to check on the north side of the
point. Crossing over the point I saw something interesting. Carp… scores of
them. They were complete unafraid and swimming all around me. I
counted coup on
a few before it quickly lost its sense of achievement. They ranged in size from
about 18 inches to over 30 (I literally measured a few of the fish with the 20
inch marker on my spear, so I am reasonably confident in this number). Carp are
one of the ugliest fish in the sea, but it was still fun to be swimming among
so many fish, and was enough to make my day. I wasn’t looking for carp though,
I was looking for walleye, and I was feeling confident enough in my diving
technique now that I thought I might actually be able to get close to one.
When I reached the other side of the point I saw a very promising sight… submerged
trees. Small feeder fish gather in cover, and were the prey goes the predator
follows (I read that on the internet, so it had to be true). Carp still abounded in the area, but I
couldn’t see around the bottoms of the cover very well, were the walleye were
likely to be. I cocked my spear and flawlessly executed one of my new super
stealth dives. I cruised along the base of the brush scanning for fish, and
what should I see not six feet in front of me but a telltale white spotted
tail. It was the wild and wily walleye!
It was swimming away from me, and I knew I would never win in a race, so
time was of the essence. I suppressed the sudden urge to panic and extended my
spear for face stabbing. At this point the walleye was about eight feet ahead,
which is the outer limit of my range, so it was now or never. I aimed for his
nose, released my spear, it shot forward, I felt it connect, and then… the
walleye swam away. I was left with nothing but a glimpse of a wounded fish and
a crushing feeling of disappointment.
 |
| One must know his prey |
I was also overcome by an unfathomable bloodlust. Blood was in the water,
and now I had to kill something. The first thing I saw that was even remotely
edibly appealing was a northern pike (appealing through the red mist at least).
The pike let me swim right up to it, and due to my earlier failure I decided to
adjust my aim this time, and aimed just in front of the fish. I released, and
the spear shot straight in front of the pike’s nose, true to its aim. The fish
never so much as flinched. It was beginning to dawn on me how ridiculous I was
behaving, but the bloodlust, unfathomable as it was, remained unsatiated. I
soon spotted another northern, and it being the stereotypical cocky apex
predator, I was able to get within close range. He looked to be nearly 30 inches
long, which is a respectable enough size. Now understanding the stoic nature of
these slimy bastards, I aimed for the gills. I smote him with a solid blow, but
failed the full skewer. The pike floated away, exhibited a strange vibrating
death spasm, and sank to the bottom. I had to surface due to a regrettable need
for oxygen, but quickly dived again to claim my kill. I now took the opportunity
to crudely measure my trophy fish with a twenty inch mark I had placed on my
pole spear. To my chagrin, the fish barely cleared twenty inches, and was
fairly skinny to boot. Fun Science Fact:
Due to the refraction of light between air and water mediums (like that found
in a snorkel mask), all objects appear 30% large underwater. I was tempted at
this point to abandon my catch. I didn't really want to eat a northern this
small, and I really didn't want to clean one, but I had promised myself earlier
to eat everything that I killed, so I kept it.
I had apparently acquired a karmic burden for the unnecessary killing of
this fish, and the rest of the day did not go well. I got the line to my diver
flag tangle in the trees multiple times, fishing line wrapped around my feet
and pulled the dive knife off of my leg the one time that I needed it (I blame
boat fishermen, I mean come on guys), and my right trigger finger had lost all
feeling due to the action of cocking and shooting my spear repeatedly (it has
been almost 48 hours and it is still not back to normal). I only saw one more
walleye at a distance and soon decided to call it a day since now I needed to clean
this fish. The shore was where the worst of my new troubles assaulted me. Wind
is good for two things, keeping you cool on a hot day, and keeping flies down.
It wasn't windy. An impromptu orgy of flies had started on my gear bag while I
was away, but there was no hesitation in moving the location to all my exposed skin when I arrived. I packed up as fast as I could and began the quarter mile walk back to
my truck, as my composure quickly crumbled. My only defense was walking like epileptic an riverdancer, and shouting expletives (the expletives didn’t actually scare
flies away, but they made me feel better). By the time I reached my truck I was
within a hairs-breath of losing my sanity, and had nearly repaid my karma dept. Still, once in the truck I found that my favorite radio station had switched from 80’s
and 90’s hits to country, and my last trial was trying to clean my fish. I’m
not very good at cleaning fish, and a northern is a really sucky fish to clean,
especially when they are small. Luckily I had a fairly dull fillet knife to
help… make it suck even harder. This is everything that I ended up with.
 |
| Mmm, fish sandwich |
Even if most of that story sounds like complaining I still had fun, and
consider the day a success. I might have killed a walleye (walleye are known
for being able to swim for minutes after death… in my head), I saw a lot of fish,
and I got a pretty good sandwich out of it. I should probably get some gloves
before next trip though, so my finger doesn't fall off.
TLDR: I suck at spearfishing.
