The 'eye' that got away... Oh well

After a lifetime of crying over the ones that got away, I’m finally at peace with all those lost fish.

They were simply meant to be.

Fishing last week with my friend Mike on the Big Dry Arm of Fort Peck Lake, I hooked something heavy that stayed deep. Within seconds Mike said: “That’s a big ‘eye.”

He would know. A Minnesota native, Mike is the best walleye angler I’ve ever shared a boat with. He’s adept at every technique from bottom bouncing to vertical jigging to trolling crank baits.

There’s only one flaw in his game: he has a small net. For Mike, however, it’s the perfect size. He prefers his walleye in the 16- to 20-inch range. They’re the tastiest. Anything larger he’s not going to keep so what’s the point of a big net.

Not that he’s ever said that to me, and he has managed to net some very large fish in that tiny net.

But not this time.

When my fish finally rose from the depths we saw it was a lunker. Mike slid the net under it and we could tell it would never fit. One flip and the big fish was gone.

“That was a 30-incher,” he said, hanging his head, much more upset than me. “I’m sorry man.”

I told him not to worry about it. We’d at least gotten to see the fish. I wouldn’t have kept it, anyway.

I’ve been on both sides of the net.

I missed netting a big walleye on Nelson Reservoir a few years ago for my friend Chris. He still brings it up.

But I no longer mention the big ‘eye that my wife, Barb, knocked off my hook a few years back. I can still see that fish, like the shark in Jaws, darkening the water beneath the boat. It must have weighed 20 pounds.

I was upset at the time, but quickly got over it. That’s the wonderful thing about those that got away. With no photos to verify their size, they just keep getting bigger. I’ve never caught a fish as large as those I’ve lost.

And big fish are always a thrill. I’ve caught my share, not because of any special talent or skill, but simply because I’m old and have spent much of my life fishing.

Even a blind pig finds an acorn once in a while.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected].