One thing you’re certain to come across in Alaska these days is some fiery debate on the merits of catch-and-release fishing. While constantly questioning my own angling proclivities and striving to understand as much about the issue as I possibly can, I often look for outside opinions, especially those that come from thoughtful, conscientious anglers who’ve forgotten more about the sport than I’ll ever learn. To that end, I’d like to offer our readers an opinion outside my own, this from Jim Repine, a senior contributing editor for Fish Alaska and an angler who has honed his beliefs during decades of traveling the world observing fish and the fanatics that chase them.
—Troy Letherman, Editor

Let’s start this with a clear definition of what we’re discussing. The word catch is too obvious to spend much time on, except to note the question has never been over whether or not we should catch fish. That sort of lunacy is for extremists. In my mind, the whole argument is about nothing more or less than sport fishing versus meat fishing. Thus, the following thoughts are bait for squabbling anglers.

Naturally, the first thing to be considered is the fish. Does a tiny hook inserted into its flesh cause pain? Jab one into your thumb for a quick answer. Is the struggle a “fighting” fish goes through terrifying? Exhausting? Can it be lethal? Yes to the first two, with a possibility to the third, depending much on who is doing the fishing (and releasing).

Is it all an act of sadism on the part of an angler? I’ve known fishermen like that, but they didn’t treat their dogs, kids, or wives much better.

But, is all of the above somehow made okay by bonking the fish’s brains out? Given a vote, how would the fish answer?

And the last question, of course, is by eating the corpses are we able to extinguish any of the problems above? How would that work?

It is true there was a time when fish were abundant enough for us to kill a lot of them, bring them home as trophies, pass them out to the neighbors, and never give a thought to resource damage. But not now.

It was never a forgivable idea, and it did a lot of damage. Are we past redeemable limits? We’re getting there, but the root problem isn’t the ups and downs of fish populations. The thing that’s gone wrong is us. There are too many of us—way too many. Our malignant over-breeding has brought us to a point where we can no longer “harvest” wild things to feed human beings. Nor can there be any sensible reason to do so. We can, we should, and in time we must, either shrink the population or farm all the food people consume. With human numbers currently exploding worldwide at a 90,000,000 annual increase, which of those two would you bet on?

As humans, we are predators. In varying degree, we all are; it’s how we survive. Without this deeply pervasive instinct mankind would have flashed out of existence in the first few thousand years. It’s as natural for humans to hunt and fish as it is for us to breed. Suppression of a basic instinct without expecting negative results is fool’s play. It’s healthy, right, and good to enjoy your natural urges, balancing the need for reasonable control against the danger of unnatural repression.

So how do we justify tormenting another unwitting creature in the name of recreation? I don’t. When I compare the life I’ve had as an angler against how I might have used my predatory inclinations, any urge to apologize vanishes like a trout gulped mayfly. Instead of preying on hapless children by becoming an algebra teacher, tormenting my fellows by choosing dentistry, or sinking into politics, I fished. I killed a ton of them, bragged about it, and passed them around to neighbors. I even ate a lot of the ones we got to before they turned bad in the freezer. Then in 1968 I moved to Alaska. It was amazing, like discovering a giant gold nugget. But you can only have a certain amount of freezer space, and coming home constantly with coolers overloaded with fish often ended with your neighbor calling to say, “Glad I caught you! Bring a big bucket and ice over here. I’ve got fish running out of my ears.”

I finally had to admit it; it was greedy insanity, and getting less and less fun. Once I started guiding it was better. I had already decided to limit clients’ kill rates to a few salmon or char to eat fresh and one or two salmon caught on the last day’s fishing to take home. With the remarkable size and numbers of Alaska’s rainbows, I quit killing them early on. Almost no one complained. My promo material was clear, so no one came unknowing. Then flyfishing began taking over.

The long rods and feathers crowd was quickly growing and converting itself as it grew to catch-and-release. No-kill was becoming more than a conservation measure, it was incorporating itself into a key rule of the sport, until now when it’s difficult to book flyfishers into lodges or with outfitters who still practice fish killing. Having watched hundreds of lifetime bonkers convert over the past three decades, I can honestly say it’s rare when they don’t find it more satisfying than they ever imagined.

But what about those folks with the discerning palates, those who just don’t like farm-reared fish, when only the wild ones provide the taste they really crave? Balderdash! I’ve cooked many species of salmon and trout, both pen-reared and wild, and then served them at the same meal. Guess what? Never, not a single time, was anyone able to taste any difference. Blindfold your guests at your next wine tasting: You’ll see what I mean. It’s a lame excuse, and nothing more, to keep on bonking. Load a shotgun with blanks and go quail hunting. You’ll begin to understand and face the truth of your instinct. Killing meat and bringing it home to eat is deeply satisfying. We are predators.

However, fishing offers a rare form of prey gathering, harvesting, or hunting if you will, instinctively fulfilling yet not requiring a bloody ending. In fact, the live release might be missing link evidence of a uniquely human ability to rise above instinct—at least a little—by ending each capture with a merciful conclusion. It adds a very good feeling, and doubtless the fish prefers it.

The ultimate solution to it all of course is to stop fishing. The simplest of minds can’t really believe killing makes it less an imposition on the fish. Nor are many going to sound altogether honest insisting their motives are for food only, with not the slightest joy felt in the jolt of the take, the “fighting” struggle, or the bludgeoning, skull-crushing kill. But catch and release? Again, left to the fish it’s obvious, practiced by anglers it’s of immense benefit to the resource, and you may just stumble onto a soul satisfaction you didn’t before believe in. That could surely open some interesting doors.
 

The preceding column is the opinion of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of Fish Alaska magazine.