RabbiEE

I'm quite amazed too and such a interesting conversation. Thanks! Rabbi

Hi Dube. I like what you wrote her a lot. You said it perfectly because I agree that when fly fishing, sometimes I feel at one with nature and sometimes I feel at odds with nature. In my view, the only problem is that most often we human beings are not at odds with nature, we dominate the planet. And that certainly gives us responsiblity in how we treat fish and all other living things.

Thanks! In my opinion, the trick to a good debate is always focus on the issue at hand and try to keep ego and competitiveness out of it. Not an easy task!

Hi Toolman. I hope that you are right and that the fish do not feel pain. I suspect that they do not, but I see contradictory articles on various places on the web. I do agree with respecting all of earth's creatures. I think that is our responsibilty as masters of this planet. Thanks.

I just want to say how much I enjoyed reading everyone's responses to my post. You all had very interesting things to say. I do want to respond to this one. First, I am not offended at all when people disagree with me and a good debate is always healthy. I do however think that it is ok to feel a little guilty and still love to fly fish. The time I spend in the streams casting for trout is really important to me and I would never give it up. But when I kill a fish, I do feel the magnitude of the action and it weighs me down a bit. I can see the contradiction in feeling a bit guilty but still fishing, but I can live with it. In my view, life is full of such contradictions.

From my article this week: As a rabbi and a fly fisher, one of the most common questions I get asked is about the ethics of fly fishing. Is it morally acceptable to spend one’s free-time taking a trout from the river, either to return it shortly to the stream or to eat it for food? Is fly fishing humane? When fly-fishing for food, I feel on solid ethical ground. To catch a large beautiful rainbow trout, take it home and then fry up the fillets with olive oil, salt and a bit of pepper, is a delicious dinner. Even when fly fishing for food, I take steps to make the process as humane as possible. I never use a creel, to keep a fish alive for hours in the water, which seems cruel. If I decide to keep a trout, I kill the fish immediately. To keep it fresh, I bring a cooler filled with ice on every fly fishing trip. I also use a very sharp knife, and I kill the fish quickly by removing it head, hoping to minimize the pain. These steps that I take were inspired by the Jewish kosher laws, a collection of rules for how and what a Jew may eat. One law states that in order for a piece of meat to be kosher, the cow must be slaughtered with a very sharp knife that has no nicks or cracks within it. That way, the cow is killed instantly and without pain. I try to end the life of the trout in a kosher-like and humane manner. While I sometimes fly fish for food, most often I practice catch and release fishing. If I and all of the other fly fishers out there kept or killed every fish we caught, the rivers and streams and lakes would soon be empty of fish. Catch and release fly fishing is necessary to preserve those beautiful and special places where the trout live. I probably keep only one out of every dozen fish that I catch. We can all take steps to make the catch and release process humane and ethical. When I hook a trout, I do not play it to exhaustion, since the fish may not survive even if released. I always dip my hands in the stream before holding a trout, since the oils on my skin will harm the fish. I also try to minimize the time that the fish is out of the water, quickly removing the hook from its mouth and releasing it back to the stream. Even when I practice catch and release fishing, I suspect that the trout that I reel in are not having such a great time. But they will all live to see another day. To practice catch and release fishing is to acknowledge that trout are precious. With our expensive fly rods and exquisitely tied flies, we may have the ability to catch many fish on a stream. We also have the responsibility to treat a trout with respect and dignity, for a fish is a beautiful living creature whose source is ultimately divine. When fly fishing, I still sometimes feel a little bit guilty. And I am not sure there is any way around it. In fact, I would say that feeling guilty about fly fishing is probably a good thing, if that feeling motivates us to be as humane as possible with the fish. Fly-fishing is a wonderful activity that can lead us to feel close to nature. And it can also be ethically challenging. Our task is to make fly-fishing, and all activities in our lives, as ethical and upright as possible.

Thank you for your kind welcome. I'm happy to be a part of the forum. Rabbi

From my article this week: Fly fishing is filled with times of frustration: getting rained out on the stream, losing a fly in a low hanging branch, being unable to thread your thin tippet line through the hole of a tiny little hook because your hands are too cold. One time I drove an hour from home to fish a new river. When I opened the trunk to put on my gear, I discovered that I had left my fly fishing rod at home. I had my vest and my net, but no rod. I sat by the car and called myself an idiot repeatedly. Perhaps the ultimate frustration of fly fishing is not catching any fish. Sometimes no matter how advanced your casting skills, or how perfectly tied your flies, the fish simply will not rise. Trout are picky. And the task we set before ourselves is difficult: to attract a fish to bite a hook wrapped in thread and wool. When I am on the river, and nothing is happening, no matter what fly I use or where I cast, I get frustrated. I try to rationalize the situation. I say to myself: “I’ll just use this time to practice my casting.” That usually does not work for long. The sport is called fly fishing, not fly casting. Over the years, I realized that frustration from not catching fish usually has to do with expectations. As my skills developed and my casting improved and I could catch many more fish in an afternoon, my expectations began to rise. Today, a few hours on the stream that do not yield a single bite might cause some serious frustration. But expectations on the fly fishing stream are probably a waste of time. Not too long ago, someone asked me for the most important tip in fly fishing. I said to him: “Be sure to look up from the river every once in a while, take a breath of air, hear the soft sound of the flowing water, and appreciate the beauty of all that surrounds you.” In fly fishing, when I expect to catch trout, I am guaranteed to be frustrated sometimes. When I expect to be out in nature, to soak in the solitude of the stream and to leave behind the stress of the world, I find fulfillment. An afternoon of fly fishing always provides me with solace and a sense of peace. I may still get frustrated when not a single fish rises. When that happens, I will try to remember the time I went fly fishing and left my rod behind. After I discovered that I could not fish, I decided to go hiking along the stream. I saw deer and ducks. I got stuck in “sinking mud,” almost becoming a permanent resident of the stream. I spent time outside, in nature, and I was able to look around, to relax and to appreciate the beauty of our world. And I learned that sometimes you do not need a rod and reel to have a great fly fishing trip.