Was it illegal back in the 50's? No.
Was it illegal to spear fish using a light? Yes.
Did the teenaged boys obey that law? NO.
Their logic was: how can you catch a fish you can't even see?
Okay. So go fishing on a full moon or a near full moon, Mom always said.
Full moons don't come around enough, was the boys' argument to that suggestion.
Was it illegal to spear fish using a light? Yes.
Did the teenaged boys obey that law? NO.
Their logic was: how can you catch a fish you can't even see?
Okay. So go fishing on a full moon or a near full moon, Mom always said.
Full moons don't come around enough, was the boys' argument to that suggestion.
They wanted fish fried up crisply in a pan of bacon fat, Mom's end of the deal, because she never let them near a burner and fat and we can all guess why.
My brothers went fishing any old chance they got, whether it be with each other or with the neighbor boys or a cousin or two.
No carp or catfish, Mom always said. They're ground feeders, trashy fish. We didn't eat those.
They fished with Grandpa's farm bamboo pole or with chokecherry poles cut from our trees at the back of the property, or with rods and reels when they made enough money to buy them.
Bait was dug-up worms.
When they fished, they came home with the right fish. Bass and trout - nice fish.
When they spear-fished, they came home with the wrong fish - carp and catfish. Why? I have no idea. It always disgusted Mom, and she'd say, "Cut them up and bury them in my flower garden for fertilizer, and quit killing the wrong fish, for goodness sakes!"
My brothers would look contrite as they filed from the kitchen with their pails of fresh fish, then they'd go and do what she said.
And the next time they went spear-fishing at night?
They did it again.
And again.
And again.
It kind of makes you wonder about teenaged boys back in the 50's, doesn't it?
My brothers went fishing any old chance they got, whether it be with each other or with the neighbor boys or a cousin or two.
No carp or catfish, Mom always said. They're ground feeders, trashy fish. We didn't eat those.
They fished with Grandpa's farm bamboo pole or with chokecherry poles cut from our trees at the back of the property, or with rods and reels when they made enough money to buy them.
Bait was dug-up worms.
When they fished, they came home with the right fish. Bass and trout - nice fish.
When they spear-fished, they came home with the wrong fish - carp and catfish. Why? I have no idea. It always disgusted Mom, and she'd say, "Cut them up and bury them in my flower garden for fertilizer, and quit killing the wrong fish, for goodness sakes!"
My brothers would look contrite as they filed from the kitchen with their pails of fresh fish, then they'd go and do what she said.
And the next time they went spear-fishing at night?
They did it again.
And again.
And again.
It kind of makes you wonder about teenaged boys back in the 50's, doesn't it?
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