“The old man looked at him with his sun-burned, confident loving eyes.”
― Ernest Hemingway,
Waist deep with feet spread to hold me against the current, I carefully released line into my back cast. Making sure to avoid my daughter as she hopped to and from shoreline rocks, I swung the rod hard to dry my fly. After four or five overhead motions I set the floating lure down in gentle water next to a slow eddy. After a couple of moments I pulled the line away and set it again with all softness.
The Skykomish burst to life. A blitz of silver and iridescence arched out of the water, bridled itself to my hook and pulled my fly down into the clear and crashing water. Without any grace, I slipped from my perch on the rock and the waterline rose to my shoulders. The steelhead was on.
With as much patience as a freezing river and euphoria would allow, I angled the fish toward shore. After several powerful and nerve-wracking runs the animal slowed and finally submitted to the lift of my rod and the bottom of my net.
There is something very special about catching a fish. Over the course of my life I have had family and mentors teach me the patience and technique needed to be successful. I learned to fish the desert for largemouth bass and flathead catfish, fly fish the Sierras for golden trout, and troll the Sea of Cortez for billfish. The species I have caught, the places I have experience and the delicious meals I have eaten are all part of a lived journal of learning, trying, failing and succeeding.
Kids need these feelings. They don’t have to learn to fish, but they should have a “lived journal of learning”. I hope that my class provides some of this during our time together this year. I hope that sometimes they see me Like Hemingway’s Santiago (The Old Man and the Sea), a man who tries to be real and commits to an ideal while still being able to reflect upon his mistakes. I love that Santiago loves the boy so very much that, even though he needs his help, he wants the boy to be more than a simple fisherman. This was the hope of my father while he taught me to read and write and play guitar. This was the goal of my grandfathers while they taught me to tie a hook to fishing line and to read the water and shoreline to anticipate where a fish was hiding.
The school year is rolling and I am thrilled to turn kids’ eyes toward those things that amaze us.