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Friday, May 29, 2020

Bleeders

Recently, I replied to a friend's comment on Facebook by saying that we in New Jersey might pressure Fish & Wildlife for stringent take-home restrictions. Afterwards, I told my son I would like to see the limit on largemouths reduced to one per day. He told me the state would have to outlaw keeping any, or sustenance fishermen would just go every day, keeping one each time, and decimate populations anyhow.

Well, not as they can with a limit of five. And I told Matt the state should allow the take of at least one, because on seldom occasion, a bad hookset results in a bleeder. The only decent thing to do to a fish that is dead or will die, is take it home for a meal. Leaving it to the snapping turtles feels like an unmanly act. I also pointed out to him that the state is moving in the direction of more stringent limits. Minimum size for bass used to be nine inches. Also, all brook trout caught in New Jersey must now be released. I do think, however, that an angler is entitled to eat a true native at least once in his life. That's why I would have liked to see the limit on brook trout at one or two a year, but then an angler would have to report his fish similarly as hunters report their kill, and the complication would be onerous. But think about it. For the occasion of eating a single native or two, once in a life, wouldn't registering the take be worthwhile? At least for now, if an angler has the time and the finances, he can go to a state northward and kill a native brook trout.

I hear the howls from people who think sustenance fisherman--or the gravely poor--need to be allowed to fish for their meals, but I am concerned about rapid rates of diminishing returns. The best way to deal with poverty is not to allow fish populations to be decimated, but to change the culture and politics so that no one in New Jersey is hungry. I know I wrote in my last post that my politics aren't those of poverty, and I say the same now, because the politics of poverty might be an underhanded way of keeping the impoverished dependent. But how change the culture and politics?

Much more difficultly than any ideas about it.

Bleeders might sometimes survive. I caught a 19-inch bass last year cleanly hooked on the lip but bleeding badly. My recent 20-incher from Lake Hopatcong got hooked in the gullet but not badly; the gullet was not pulled out, and there was no blood there; by all appearances, the hook will rust out, but the fish bleed badly. I call bleeders like these two--no damage to the gills, no hook damage beyond the usual--shock bleeders. Apparently the stress of the fight causes gills to bleed, but the bleeding apparently stops. Both of these bass I released, watching them swim off directly, and after we stayed on the spots for at least 10 more minutes, these fish never bellied up at the surface. For all we know, they might have lived. On a different occasion last year, a trolled 17-inch bass got hooked badly and bled. I released it, it bellied up minutes later, and since this was after June 15, I clicked on the electric, we netted it, and took it home to apply Old Bay seasoning.

Even though I believe my recent big one might have lived, it serves as just one example of deep heartbreak. I can't easily get away from a fish like that. It haunts me for a few days. Its innocent life, interrupted by my predatory act, seems to ask me questions I can't easily answer. All of these questions might be addressed by an animal right's activist: what right did you have to do that to the bass? But I don't see it primarily as an issue of rights, because the bass doesn't live by any moral code, an aspect of intellect, and what I do is enter into the natural world and participate as the animal I am, too, which of course doesn't necessarily mean I am inarticulate while on a boat. But the bass eats other fish; I potentially eat bass, in turn. That's nature. I do have rights by nature, but I avoid getting involved in that kind of stridency we often hear, because the basic issue is ecological, and I don't pretend I am above it.

That said, I feel compassion for bass. A bass can't feel that for me, but on some mute animal level, it must feel something if my compassion is at all real. Compassion means to "feel with" and I must feel something real about a bass's living presence to truly behold it. A life as sacred as is mine, for if we humans are created equal, the same holds true for the relation between us and other creatures. And for man to be denied his beholding of other creatures would be an infringement of right.


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