The Contents of Your Story Be Guided Thusly
Doug Stange
Fishermen are legendary liars, as in the old saw, “All fishermen are liars except me and you, and I’m not so sure about you.” I’m pretty certain pike and muskie anglers fit firmly in this crowd.
One might, however, reasonably contend that most lies aren’t mean-spirited so much as slightly fractured stretchings meant to improve the quality of the day. If, after all, a tree falls on no one in the forest, who be harmed? So much the better if a fishing tale harms no man but delights many.
Famous 17th century fisherman and writer Isaak Walton believed that a fabrication here and there lent characteristic charm to our sport. Walton advised:
“The contents of your story be guided thusly: expand, but do not entirely invent. It is blasphemy and pure folly to usurp the role of the Creator and cause to appear upon the waters some imaginary monster which, perchance, snatched away your pole, made mincemeat of your leggings, mouthed a pony, and bore away your luggage on its back. But if you gently take one of his trout, and in a spirit of generous indulgence cause it to gain a foot or two of extra measure in the course of the telling, you will have the favor of your listeners . . . “
Walton also addressed how to tell the tale: “And when you prepare to spin out a tale, see that your hands do not tremble, nor your eyes dart to and fro, and do not permit your hands to wander hither and thither, but hold the one carelessly over your heart, as if proclaiming an oath, and the other open in front of you, as if to say, ‘See, I conceal nothing.’”
I am past the stage where I take my muskie and pike fishing that seriously. Oh, I still fish hard and want to catch big fish and lots of them, especially when it comes to gathering magazine information and footage for In-Fisherman television. I’m not doing that on my own behalf, though. I see myself doing that for you. I’ve always believed that we owe you a great magazine—and a great television show.
Myself, I’ve pretty much quit actually measuring and weighing, because over the years I’ve become an expert at estimating fish length and weight. My biggest muskie of the season last year was an easy 40. Maybe 38? OK, at least 35. Well, maybe it was 40.
That’s close enough for magazine and TV work. Expand, but do not entirely invent.
