Matt Liere: Taking the relationship in another direction

My wife loves to fish, but it wasn’t always that way. For that, I can only blame myself.

Despite growing up in an active outdoor family, one filled with generations of deer hunters and walleye fishermen, Gina never quite caught the bug. While this may have been a mild disappointment to her father, it was perfectly fine with me.

Personal experience proved the best relationships endured because of a distinct separation of hobbies and pursuits between sexes. Partners in ideal relationships needn’t rely on the other for entertainment, and ours was no different. She had her thing, I had mine.

This unspoken agreement had been a guiding force through five years of marriage, and as a result, I’d never complained when she turned down courtesy offers to go fishing. Likewise, she’d never been offended when I refused to accompany her to the day spa to get our toes done – whatever that might mean.

I never expected her to say “Yes.” It would be only the second time she’d surprised me with an affirmative. The first, I gained a partner in life, to which I never believed could happen. And it had been good. Really good. This time, though, I feared her spontaneous acceptance of my night fishing invite might have jeopardized our entire relationship.

Still fishing kokanee can be tricky. A slow jig off the bottom can try any fisherman’s patience, but a nearly undetectable bite and a delicate mouth only add to the frustration. Throw in seasonally cool nights and sporadic lulls in the action, putting fish in the boat can be arduous, at best.

Gina’s introduction was no different. Initially discouraged, it took two sweatshirts, 40 minutes of grumbling, and three silvers in the boat before she hooked and landed her first. After that, it was all over. Now that she had the “touch,” she pulled in fish after fish, surpassing my catch ratio 3 to 1. I was reminded of her fierce, competitive streak as she verbally updated the score – the fishermen anchored nearby were also able to keep track.

“Oh! Fish on!” she’d exclaim, setting the hook, tip held high, just like I’d shown her. “That’s number eight,” she’d taunt, glancing in my direction. “Looks like you’ve got some catchin’ up to do, honey bear.”

Never mind I was also responsible for taking the fish off the line and baiting her hook, my angling deficiencies did not go unheard. Despite the cajoling, I watched in admiration as she fully committed to the sport, thrilled she collected as much joy as I did from such simple pleasures. It was then I truly realized what I had done.

With winter in the rearview, Gina’s mind has turned toward fishing, once again. I came across her list of supplies for the lake – green glow hooks and a purple tackle box were near the top. And while I’m still a bit conflicted with the whole situation, I guess there are far worse things than fishing with someone I love.

But if I hear any mention of hunting turkey with me mid-April, we’re going to have to sit down and have a long talk.