The Life of Wunipaq

Wunipaq was born in the spring, one of many, many generations of the Anibish tribe. As an infant, he marveled at the colorful birds that visited his tribe and sang songs for them. Sometimes, creatures from the forest would enter his village to the delight of all the Anibish children. At night, he could see shiny specs in the sky above him. Some winked at him and some moved quickly across the heavens. He wondered if they were distant Anibish tribes, close enough to see him and wink at him, but so far away that their voices could not be heard.

In his youth, Wunipaq learned that all the creatures of the forest looked up to his tribe. The Anibish were well respected across the region for providing food and shelter for homeless travelers in the forest. Nothing was ever asked of these travelers, even when his tribe suffered from thirst or hunger themselves.

Wunipaq also learned to speak in his youth. His voice, like those of the others in his tribe, was carried in the wind. At times, their voices merged with those from other tribes and the whole forest was awash with the voices of the Anibish.

In his adolescence, Wunipaq learned how to make food along with the other Anibish children. They made their food from nutrients provided by the forest and it was this food called sugar, so freely shared by his tribe, which was food for so many travelers. He was proud of his place in the universe.

As an adult, Wunipaq wore the scars of time. He was not as supple as in his youth and he was unable to produce as much food as he had when he was young. His body seemed stiffer and he noticed some changes in his color.

In the final stage of his life, Wunipaq’s body turned yellow. Not the yellow of illness, but the brilliant hue of life celebrated. He and his tribe lit up the forest as they aged. Wunipaq was sure those distant tribes he saw in the sky as an infant could now see his tribe as they twinkled into the heavens.

One day, Wunipaq learned the true value of his place in the universe. One-by-one, then many-by-many, his tribesmen gave up their positions so younger generations could grow. They gently swooped to the forest floor. His tribe gathered there to wait for the winter. When the snow came, his tribe was covered and sheltered from the winter sun. The Anibish of Wunipaq’s generation slowly released their remains to the soil until they were no more.

In the spring, the snows melted and the water carried the sugars and nutrients down into the soil where his tribe could gather them together. In a few weeks, a new generation of Anibish would be born.

Royal Dun
　

Tenkara Tightwad

I have discovered a "new" method of fly-fishing this winter and I am looking forward to trying it out in the spring. Tenkara (meaning from heaven) is a Japanese method of fishing that is thousands of years old. Tenkara involves very simple equipment including an expandable rod, high-visibility lines, tippets, and a few sparsely tied flies. The line is about the same length as the rod and is attached to the tip of the rod. There are no reels or eyelets in Tenkara fishing.

Very few companies currently market the method in the United States. I won’t begin to give you all the information about Tenkara, because you can get that from going to sites like

www.tenkarabum.com or www.tenkarausa.com.

The idea is through softer landings and keeping your line off the water, the presentation is improved. My personal reasons for being enamored with the technique are cost, simplicity, and fun.

Conventional fly-fishing has become a ridiculously expensive pastime. Even entry-level fly rods, reels, and accessories cost well over $100. Now that I have retired, my income does not allow for those kinds of expenses although I have always been frugal (some people use the term cheap b_____d). Tenkara rods can also be expensive but you don’t have the cost of a reel or fly line. Even so, I found that even the lower-cost rods were too expensive for my budget so I went on a web search.

I ended up buying two Como rods (see photo). I purchased a new 5.4-meter (17 feet) rod for $18 and a new 3.4-meter (12 feet) rod for $10. They are very high quality, beautifully crafted instruments of carbon-fiber construction. The Como rods have all the characteristics of the expensive rods at a fraction of the cost. Okay, the Como rods do not have a cork or foam handle like the more expensive rods. The Como rods are traditional Japanese configurations, but the company does offer a handle that slides on the end of their rods. I bought one for $5.00 including the free shipping, but I may not even want to use it. These rods are exquisite!

Next, I needed some line. The line used in Tenkara fishing is either a high-visibility fluorocarbon or a furled (twisted) line like a furled leader in fly-fishing but longer. Tenkara uses ratings of 3 / 3.5 / 4, etc. rather than the lb.-test we are used to in the States. I chose a "heavy" 4.5 (roughly 15-17 lb.-test) line to begin with because the heavier weights cast easier in wind. When the members of the Chukar Harbor Ancient Order of Sportsmen see this, I anticipate a lot of wind.

High visibility fluorocarbon line is tough to find. I ended up buying some from one of the sites above at $25 for 65 feet. While that sounds like a lot, I was able to get five lengths from 10 to 17 feet out of it, so the average cost per line is about $5. Nevertheless, in keeping with my cheap ba … frugal nature, I intend to try other line materials in the spring.

Instead of spending another $5 each for spools to retain my lines, this tightwad went down to the workshop and made five line-holders out of some scraps of wood and a paint stick (see photo). I used two o-rings on each holder to retain the tag ends of the lines. Once I have a fly tied on, I can use the o-rings to retain the fly, wind my leader and High-Vis line onto the holder without having to remove the fly. Best of all is that they float.

 

The flies are sparsely tied to offer minimal air resistance. Tenkara is not for Humpys and hair bugs. Tenkara purists only use only one or two patterns tied on curved hooks similar to nymph hooks. I have found conflicting reports of Tenkara using primarily dry versus wet flies, but most people rave about Tenkara nymph fishing.

There you have it. Two rigs under $75 total investment and minimalist equipment that will all fit in a couple of pockets. I can’t wait to feel a slab bluegill on the end of a 17-foot lever! It's a little ironic though, that after 60+ years of using all types of fishing gear, that I am returning to what basically is … a cane pole

Royal Dun

Everyday Heroes

I have a new hero today. Every once in a while we are fortunate to meet someone who reinvigorates our human spirit. This happened to me the other day as I arrived at a parking area in the State Park near my home. I was on my way to do some ice fishing. As I was getting my gear out, I spotted another angler on the ice using a walker to get around.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to think. I watched him move slowly across the ice to a hole he had drilled. He sat down on the bucket he carried with him and started to fish. Except for the walker, he looked like any other angler on the ice with his back to the wind and hood over his head.
 

I admired the man for refusing to let snow and ice stop him. In fact, he saw the winter ice as a blessing, not a blockade. The winter ice provided him the opportunity to put fish in his freezer, to gather nature’s bounty, and provide for himself and his family like anyone else.
 

He reminded me of another individual I met while living in Mississippi. I drove to a nearby lake one evening to fish for Crappie. When I arrived, there was another man sitting on the fishing pier and I could see him pulling in a fish. I settled in next to him, said hello, and asked how the fishing was, and we engaged in the usual small talk.

As I was setting up my gear, he caught another fish, a sunfish of respectable size. When I looked over at him, he had grabbed the line and ran his fingers down it to the fish. He unhooked the ‘sunny’ and dropped it into a bucket beside him. He retrieved another worm from his bait box, threaded it on his hook, and cast the line into the water. He never once looked at his hands. He was blind.

He was tight-lining, a technique used without a float. He held his fishing line between his fingers and felt the fish bite. He had learned to tie knots, bait hooks, and catch fish without his sight. We fished together for a couple hours and he out-fished me at least two to one.

By the time his wife arrived to take him home, I thought about what I would do when I reach the age of infirmity or have some limiting condition.

I know … I’ll go fishing.

Royal Dun