The great outdoors is a wonderful place to learn about
all things natural. Most experiences are
pleasant and memorable for all the right reasons. However, on occasion an adventure might be
remembered for something bad. Fate has a
funny way of turning around and biting you in the backside sometimes, too.
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Whoops! I spoke too soon! |
The
perfect example happened recently when I got a text message photo from my 16
year-old nephew, Dylan. He’d been
sending photos of big bass, crappie and bluegill he was catching from a pond. Hitting the message button I fully expected
more fish pictures. But instead, it was
of a lure dangling from his finger, the hook embedded in flesh past the barb.
It
seems the first bass of the evening flopped at the wrong time and the lure
lodged in Dylan’s finger. He knew he
couldn’t get it out on his own so he called his mom, my sister, Chari, on the
way home. She got queasy just thinking
about trying to get the hook out and even more-so when she Googled “How to
remove a fish hook” on You Tube and watched several clips.
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String trick I used |
Dylan
didn’t even flinch when my sister, peaked and pale, snatched the hook out
backwards using the monofilament string trick.
He admits it wasn’t buried too bad, didn’t bleed much and really didn’t
hurt. That wasn’t too comforting to
Chari as she nearly threw up during the process.
Dylan called me that night to give me
the scoop. He, too, laughed at his
mother’s response. I told him in nearly
five decades of fishing fresh and saltwater and handling literally tens of
thousands of hooks I’d never buried one in any body part.
Remember fate?
It
was less than a week later when a buddy, Jim, and I were walleye fishing from
my boat. We were catching lots of
walleye and the occasional “other” species as well. It was one of the latter, a 12-inch channel
catfish, that labeled that day in my memory bank.
I
caught the cat on a spinner rig with two #6 Gamakatsu Octopus hooks, the top
hook buried in his lip. Using pliers I
attempted to free the hook which proved stubborn. Getting impatient, I snatched the hook out
with an emphatic yank, not accounting for the second hook. It buried in the beefy part of my index
finger just above my palm with enough force it broke 12 pound test line.
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Still fishing with new piercing! |
Realizing
I’d screwed up, I attempted to push it back out and it wouldn’t budge. And it was buried too far to even think about
pushing it on through. Contemplating
what to do next, I got a bite on another rod and managed to land a nice walleye,
despite my new finger piercing. And to
make matters more comical, I wanted to document my mistake on film and proceeded
to take pictures of my finger and the embedded hardware from various angles
around my boat.
Jim
cut a section of monofilament and
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"After" shot! |
I explained the process I’d never personally
witnessed. Silently, I hoped it worked
as described. Jim held down the eye of
the hook and I grabbed the string and in one fell swoop snatched it
backwards. It made a bit of a “pop”
sound when the hook went flying.
The resulting hole wasn’t large,
but was now bleeding pretty good. We
laughed about how well the string trick worked.
However, we both agreed we’d rather not have to do it again anytime
soon. A little rinse with a water bottle
and a tight band aid and I was back in fishing business.
It was ironic that only a week earlier I'd opened my mouth about the fact it had never happened to me. I couldn't wait to tell my sister and laughed knowing she would object to any in-depth details of the event over the phone. That's okay, I just sent her a picture of it via e-mail!
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