Life Lessons from a Jumbo Perch

You can't imagine a more beautiful October day. But the fishing is slow, the fish lethargic. So after a few hours of patiently combing the waters using various finesse rigs, I finally decide to just sit back and enjoy the weather. I tie on a crankbait and lazily troll my lure through the weeds, still green thanks to a warm September. But my bait quickly gets hung up, so I have to reel it in and pull off the greenery. Almost immediately after I restart the engine, my rod starts bending again, the tell-tale sign of another snag. Only this time, it isn't a weed at the end of my line.

I start to reel in slowly. Then I feel a head shake, and suddenly realize that I have a good fish on my line. Moments later, I can't believe my eyes when I see a pike under the boat with my lure in its mouth. Though it frequents my dreams, I've never seen one before in this part of Lake Simcoe. I pull it next to the boat, but it dives straight down again, my drag screaming as the fish escapes my sight. Again, I work the fish up to the boat. With one hand on my rod, I grab my old, broken net with the other. I feel that the fish is finally in my grasp, but the ecstasy I feel quickly turns to horror. The net isn't big enough to land the fish, and while trying to pull it into the boat, the fish manages to free itself, throw my lure, and swim away.

Cursing myself for not investing in better equipment, I become obsessed with the weed-line I was working. I make casts to the same area again and again convinced that I'll be able to hook another pike. After taking a lunch break, I drive to Orillia to pick up a new net at Canadian Tire. I hit the water, and once again focus on the same place. I need to get another pike. I need redeem myself. I need to get another glimpse of the fish that I usually see only in my dreams. I cast and I cast and I cast again, but it's all in vain...

The next day I go out with my dad. Frustrated, I ask if there are any spots he wants to fish, and so rather than focussing on pike, we start fishing for perch in about 20 feet of water. I downsize my baits, and even cut down grubs and dream shots to make my presentation more enticing for smaller fish. The fishing is still tough, but we don't give up. The wind is picking up, and it's a bit cooler. I'm hoping this'll improve the bite, and as it turns out, it does. My dad sets his hook and says he's got a fish on. It looks to be a better sized fish than the few tiny ones we'd caught before, and we're not disappointed. He pulls in a freakishly large 14" perch. A beautiful catch considering the conditions.

In life, as in fishing, we have goals, dreams and ideals. Of course, there's nothing wrong with pursuing them, and pursuing them despite facing many obstacles. But we also have to know when to adapt and change what we're after. And this doesn't mean we have to settle. It just means that sometimes it's a good idea to change course when things aren't working out. The ideals we create in our minds may never be met in reality, but with an open-mind, they can be exceeded.

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