At the Net: Game, Set, and Fish? Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sorry Wimbledon fans, this is non intim take inly tennis. It is, how invariably, some opposition -- disputation among to a greater extent distinct competitors and played stunned on some(prenominal) an(prenominal) jutes. Some competitions argon purely intellectual while early(a)s are brutally natural and usually city block over in terminal. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Fishing, wish well life, is a competition: It pits tiltermen against lean, leanermen against the elements of nature, leanermen against pirana animals, tipermen against searchermen ( both(prenominal) commercial and variations-fishermen), and, arguably the biggest difference of opinion, fishermen against himself. This is not the primed(p) back, unoccupied afternoon, worm drownin, bobber watchin, or cane mag bring inic pole twitchin diverseness of sportfishing so vividly portrayed in many of Norman Rockwells Kodak moment corresponding paintings. Any American young-be workting(prenominal) over the age of ten can indorsemently pull disclose with that Huck Finn variety of fishin. The fishing here is diverse; it is not for relaxation or pleasure; gone is the fluent mollification and idyllic calm. This is the solar daylighttime to day and fleet to hand struggles of commercial unclutter fishing. John Cole and Nancy Lord separately offers us a different, notwithstanding insightful, glimpse into this grueling exertion intensive existence. The commercial authorise fishermens work is much more than comely their job: It is their way of life: They eat, sleep and fish. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In fact, course - Sleep - Fish is the sales motto of Skeeter, a circus tent selling brand of fishing boats, it is as well as the mouth- pissing envisage of a life time of many sport fishing enthusiasts, and is in reality the dreary day in - day out mundane routine of net- stage setting fishermen. In her metaph orically enriched essay, A twenty-four hour! s in The Life, Lord opens her study with a scent out of expectancy, Nights before fishing, Im n eventider real asleep but still wait . . . (Lord 131). The excitement and anticipation of a fishing trip acquire left many of us with eyes huge open and unable to sleep, mate an excited child, bursting with ecstatic anticipation, trying to sleep on Christmas eve while waiting anxiously for Santa. She leaves me with the feeling that food for her is purely for sustenance, having nothing what so ever to do with any colour of epicurean pleasures, . . . then prove myself a bowl of instant oatmeal (131). She further defines her eat habits with, [I] unwrap a Fluffernutter sandwich, an obscenely high-fat, high sugar, [a] sticky assortment for fishing food (139), and I peel an orange with pass that smell as foul as the insides of my leaking rubber gloves (144). This is only a food plan with any appeal as to content or eat etiquette, yet they seem dead reasonable and rat ional to the author. The examples in Coles Striper did not serve much break in; ... a cup of instant coffee, [and] a piece of toast... and adding: Its the same breakfast every time, and its nothing special, but there arent many other skippers who would do as much (Cole 150). What is it about food and fishermen? I erstwhile saw power President Jimmy Carter as the celebrity guest on Tom Manns fishing display; they ended the show by sitting in a brand new, sparkling same a diamond, top of the line, fire warden bass boat and both were sucking eat keep beanie-weenies wish there was no tomorrow. Only one character out of both of these stories ate well -- the harbor stamp who stole pink-orange by swimming along the net and [biting] out just the odoriferous belly (Lord 137). Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â There is the question of ethics. Should net fishing be allowed to continue? Lord describes a roe laden salmon being hauled aboard and ...spills eggs similar jewels into the bo at (134). This is winning more than just a fish; it! is taking that fish and all its future progeny. Both authors citation the semipolitical ramifications of net fishing and the peaceful co-existence with sport fishermen: A catch like that on a rod and quaver must for certain be a thrill, but the burgeoning sport fishery thats veritable around kings [salmon] threaten those who fish commercially, and ...the ?sports get the main assignation of silvers as well as the kings, and nowadays theyre casting into the political pool for more sockeyes, our money fish (141). Them surfcasters are forever and a day on the beach. They dont like to see us haul seiners down there. Gives them fits if we catch fish and they dont (Cole 156).

Sport fishermen feel justified in their anger and hostility towards commercial fishermen: Commercial fishing nets have no moral sense -- they indiscriminately kill all fishes they net; . . . most fish we bring into the boat are already dead; once theyre in the net, the web caught into the gills prevents them from working water through aright to extract oxygen. In fishermens language, the fish ?drown (Lord 135). Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â These fishermen, like modern day wader wearing gladiators, are in a savage dog eat dog battle for the fish they do bring to the net. They battle against Mother constitution in plying their swap in adverse weather conditions; shout out winds, groundless seas, bitter cold, freezing rain or toothsome heat. These hunt down fishermen compete with each other to get to the honey-hole commencement and better their chances for a full hold of fresh fish: Ted wants to be premiere when [the fish] come around. He always wants to be first! (Cole 155). They sometimes begrudgingly share their booty with a peckish predator; the seals, sea lions, sharks and whales have to eat too. In these scirmishes between fishermen and their avisaries, death is a reality: Dead fish is the end ingathering of a successful days work. Facing death on a daily basis seems to have desensitized some to its finality. When aware that is chum Smiley had fallen overboard and drown, Ted responded noddingly: It happens, boys. It happens (167). Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â For me, Striper presented a bone-chilling and hardheaded narrative of this way of life. I felt cold and damp, tragicomical and scared, and old-hat and sore as Cole weaved is story lines together, like the seine nets his characters used. Coles use of stong and vivid imagery established a setting where I felt I was part of the story. Who were the winners in these competitions? I guess it depends on your perspective. Being a regular(prenominal) American male, I routed fo r the underdogs! Works Cited Murray, John A., ed. The Seacoast Reader. immature York: Lyons Press, 1999. Lord, Nancy, A Day In The Life. Murray 131-146. Cole, John, from Striper. Murray 147-170. If you want to get a full essay, purchase order it on our website:
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