BLOG: The pain of loss

I REALLY hate losing fish...

The pain of loss cuts deep with memories of the one that got away continuing to haunt me many years after the fact.

The first memory of an opportunity lost, came one fateful morning fishing the shores of Botany Bay with my old man; I would have been eight, maybe nine years old. It was a picture postcard morning with a pre-dawn start and surface activity well out of casting distance. The feeding frenzy on the surface caused my imagination to run wild – I'd read about tuna somewhere and guessed they were longtails but in all truth they were probably tailer or salmon, perhaps bonito.

My dad had pelted out a cast for me and handed over the rod. He was busy prepping another outfit when all hell broke loose and the rod was nearly torn from my feeble pre-pubescent grasp. Fishing a locked drag on 20lb line meant that it was more akin to tug o' war than a sporting encounter. I remember being unable to turn the handle with the rod fully keeled over before that sickening feeling of loss took over as the line parted – I still bear the scars more than 20 years on.

The second memorable loss came on North Narrabeen beach when a midnight mulloway session in my early teens saw a blistering run and the promise of a prize on the other end of the line. During the latter stages of the fight, however, my drag locked up and panic ensued – the nut holding the rotor on my threadline had come loose and the rotor was binding with the spool, resulting in a recurrence of that sickening feeling as things eventually went pear shaped with the line breaking as the fish was nearing shore...
My mates tried to convince me it was a pesky shark or stingray, but deep down I knew it was a metre plus of chrome flanked mulloway.

Countless ambitious nights as a kid chasing mythical beasts like mulloway off the beach would cause that loss to haunt me for many years to follow – that one stung a little more than others.

There are other examples but the above two are the ones that have left a void in the part of my brain that registers happiness; these days it still pains me to lose a fish but I'm a little more philosophical about things and am not as fazed if the odd fish is dealt a better hand than myself, however, the pain of losing a trophy or a notable species still triggers an emotive response.

Loss teaches us valuable lessons. The day after my surf reel failed on that mulloway it was completely overhauled - I was taught a valuable lesson on tackle maintenance from a young age and vowed never to have a reel fail on me again, which saw many nights preceding any fishing trip as a teenager spent meticulously lubricating and checking all of my reels. This routine then flowed on to being more diligent with knots and ensuring all components of my fishing collection were up to the task – losing that fish was a bitter pill to swallow but it taught me a valuable lesson at a young age of the importance of tackle maintenance.

Are there any lessons you've learnt over the years or tales of loss that you can share?