I miss fishing. For the most part there are only two things that I regret about traveling: That I can seldom go fishing. That I can seldom go hunting. Fishing gear is too cumbersome to carry, and the few times that I would actually use it would not justify its continued presence, and hunting gear [...]
I miss fishing.
For the most part there are only two things that I regret about traveling:
That I can seldom go fishing.
That I can seldom go hunting.
Fishing gear is too cumbersome to carry, and the few times that I would actually use it would not justify its continued presence, and hunting gear is obviously out of the question. I am also not the kind of fellow who would pay an exorbitant amount of money to do either of these activities in organized tours.
So I look for other people hunting or fishing and try to get them to let me come along.
It seldom works out, but shall never stop trying.
Along the Galata bridge that spans the Golden Horn hundreds of fishermen stand eave to eave with lines hanging down into the river. Each time I pass over this bridge I walk real slow and try to find a fisherman willing to let me man his pole for a turn. I make eye contact, smile, and when I encounter a friendly face I stop for a brief chat.
Usually this just consists of me pointing and pantomiming like an idiot and the fisherman laughing at me. I get a kick out of simple things, and a grown man getting excited about a bucket full of chubs, some chopped bait, and a few knots is perhaps a ridiculous sight to behold anywhere in the world.
But I like fishing.
I met a smiling Turk on the bridge a few days ago who tolerated my presence as I watched him rig his line. These Istanbul fishermen do not mess around when it comes to increasing their chances of catching fish: they tie approximately ten evenly dispersed and baited hooks going down the length of the submerged portion of the line. I crouched on my hunches as I talked with my hands and eyes about fishing with the fisherman. We could not figure out a word either of us said, but we understood what we were talking about.
Fishing is an international language.
Hundreds of fishermen line both sides of the Galata Bridge in Istanbul all day long. I have never noticed anyone catching anything.
Bait, minnows or chubs, used to fish in Turkey.
Bait bucket. I was looking for the fish that they caught in these buckets, but could not find any. Either the fishermen have a very quick transition period between catching a fish and getting it to a market, or nobody is catching anything. From the well worn looks of a lot of these fishermen, my assumption is the former.
Bait and a fishing pole holder.
Fishing pole holder for fishing over a bridge. This simple wooden cut-out holds the pole evenly so the fisherman can rest in between casts.
Fishing in Turkey
Fishing in Turkey
Fishermen, Gear, Bait, and a Bridge in Istanbul
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