Ferd from Leech Lake

I just did my thing and it all came about naturally. Maybe anybody could do it. I just loved to fish. Some would say I lived to fish. I wasn’t trying to escape a shrewish wife. No, my Mary has always been sweet to me.

I have an old twelve-foot Sears fishing boat with a Waterwitch outboard. I’m kind of surprised that the thing still runs. Mary makes me a lunch, so I have that and cold water in my cooler. I like to get out on the lake before the sun gets too hot. When I’m satisfied, I come back in, and Mary cooks me a fish or two for dinner and freezes the rest. Gives the frozen fish away later.

The eagle thing was an accident. it happened; then I had this great feeling. So I didn’t try to protect my catch after that. Whose fish are they, anyway? After the first couple times, I think they learned to expect it. Fish were always plentiful wherever I fished, so I didn’t begrudge them. I kind of enjoyed them. Bald eagles are such magnificent birds. I think they’re like us, but haven’t lost their connection to nature. Well. Some people I know aren’t very magnificent, but I think they’re all special.

All those fish—bluegill, bullhead, catfish, pike, bass, walleye, perch. Whose fish are they, anyway? I feel that I’ve been blessed.

I have been blessed. I was out by Goose Island on a Tuesday morning when I hooked a monster. It was a catfish that was big enough to start a legend. I had to follow it so it wouldn’t break my line. I figured the only way I’d land it was get it mad enough that it wouldn’t realize that I was nudging it into more and more shallow water. I was able to do that. Then I hit it over the head with an ore.

I didn’t claim anything. I wasn’t trying to get attention. If you think there was any kind of supernatural effect, I say “Hogwash.” It was totally natural. Maybe most fishermen, maybe most human beings have lost their natural connection. Maybe they could get it back. I don’t know. I just never lost mine.