Step 1- The Pond Is Made & The Koi Go In
I assume that there is a black, plastic tub in my neighbor's possession that is just waiting to be placed in a 3-4 foot deep hole. It probably resembles a drop-in pickup truck bedliner and is all pre-formed. I will probably come home one day, gaze off the back deck at my empire of dirt, notice the enclosure, and think to myself "Hum, I wonder how long that has been there?" The truth is that it will probably be the same day as its installment because I pride myself on my observance even though my wife says I don't notice anything. CORRECTION: I notice the cool outdoorsy stuff! Soon thereafter, when the chlorine has been removed and the temperature has balanced out, the first of the overpriced yet beautiful goldfish variation will be introduced into the synthetic ecosystem. Again, I will be moderately surprised at the site of a slashing orange ornament in the plastic pond. That's when my pulse will quicken and my problems start. Step 1- complete.
Step 2- I Formulate A Plan
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| See, it CAN be done. This is a picture of Joe Cermele from "Hook Shots" fame hold a koi from Arizona. |
After the realization has sunk in that there are fish within casting distance of my backyard, I will start to hypothesize silly little plans to catch them. It will start off innocently enough with thoughts like, "Wouldn't it be funny if I found out what Koi eat?" Then, I will think, "It sure would be silly if I found out what they eat and then tied a fly that looked like said food source. That would be funny." That, in actuality, is not funny. That is scary because THAT is a plan coming coming to fruition. (On another note, I sometimes wonder if the word"fruition" comes from the word fruit?) Then I would choose to look up koi, goldfish, and carp fishing information as well as videos on YouTube. Following that, I would have these subversive conversations with folks at fly shops and online message boards about catching koi pond fish. Attention Western Missouri Fishing Authority: we have reached Defcon 3. Reattention: we skipped Defcon 1-2. Oops.
Step 3- It Begins, But No Actual Problems...Yet
At this point, research is done, ties are flied and in a box that says "Neighbor's Koi Pond" but there is still some trepidation. I am by nature a "rule follower" and feel genuine remorse after doing something wrong that I know is wrong. I have a lot of guilt about a lot of things that I have done during my life and I really don't want more baggage. However, the fear of guilt might not be enough to overcome the drive to catch a goofy looking carp. So I start to cast in my backyard.
To the untrained eye, it would look like I am simply in my backyard, doing some grass casting, and maybe getting ready for an upcoming fishing trip. However, the truth is much darker than that. The fact is that I am simply measuring my reach. Like a Tiger swiping at a leaf on the branch of a tree, I am just calculating my depth perception. I figure if I can hit a spot in my neighbor's back yard with a backhanded cast, then a forward cast should be simple. At this point, you might be starting to think, "Wow, this guy has a command over quotation marks like he is Zeus, king of the Gods. Also, this guy has really had some time to think this through and might have some sort of mental illness." To that, I can only respond with thank you and frankly, that's none of your darn business. But, then again, I did start my own blog so I guess I am kind of putting myself out there so maybe you're right. We are getting off track here. Back to the koi pond.
Flies have been selected, casting distances have been determined, and the next full moon has been documented. Step 3, complete. Secretary of the Western Missouri Fishing Authority, let's move this sucker to Defcon 2.
Step 4- Now I Am Doing Something Very Wrong
At this point, I am in too deep. Like an undercover FBI agent in a re-imagined story that involves the seedy drug trade, I have started to give over my response to authority to my own morals. I start to question the entire fabric of the Constitution of The United States of America and wonder if my neighbor's property is really theirs since it is in a water way. Well sure it is theirs, but my subconscious suggestions start to creep into my consciousness. While I know it is wrong, I have some sort of sick and twisted way to justify fishing for koi in my neighbor's pond. That is when I sneak out of the house for the first time.
Since I am a man of moderate intelligence (I'm being a little generous there), I don't expect to catch a koi on my first attempt. This is a learning experience. I would probably learn that while these fish have excellent sight and intelligence, they are not nocturnal which is due mostly to the fact that they are fed during the day. Uh oh. This just got a LOT more complicated. This mission (like it is some sort of military action) has just taken a serious turn. This is now a daylight, shock and awe campaign. In preparation, I start to set aside some Christmas money to be used as bail because this story doesn't end without a call from the cops. The best case scenario is that I hook a fish but the owner forgives me. The worst case is that I make one cast and that the neighbor is a cop that arrests me on the spot with nothing to show. Like Bruce Wayne, I channel my inner Batman and select my morals over that of the accepted social standards and structure.
Step 5- The Moment Of Truth
I have a job. Some would call it a career. I simply don't have time to figure out when my neighbors will be home so I throw caution to the wind and hope for the best. After arriving home on a particularly stressful day, I decide that this IS the day. I would probably hem and haw over it for a few weeks, but then the stress of a long day would trigger some sense of primordial response that has its ties to Homo Erectus. This is it. It's on much like the popular 80's video game, Donkey Kong. this is about to get off the hinges, my ninjas. Gameface....on.
When I get home, I know I don't have long before the wife gets home and stops my plan. As for the neighbor, I stopped caring about presence and opinion a LONG time ago. I rig up a fly rod (inside of course) and make a few practice casts (knocking over some lamps of course) before I step outside. I emerge from my back basement door like a Navy Seal slowly emerging from calm water. Eyes first, weapon second.
I peel off line as I approach the property line as I walk. I figure I have 5-10 casts before I get noticed and if I actually hook a fish, well then that time gets cut down dramatically. First cast. sucks as usual. Second cast, off to the left. Third cast, off to the left again because I am stubborn and a wind gust must be to blame because that sure as heck wasn't my fault. Fourth cast is off to the right because I finally admit fault and over-correct. Cast five rings home like a blacksmith's hammer. A fly is on the water and there is a serious chance that I might catch my neighbor's koi. The deer hair pellet fly circles the artificial pond like Paul's stonefly on the Big Blackfoot. Then there's a sip.
It happens with the subtleness of a broken shoelace. A koi has my fly and this entire ridiculous plan has come come to this point. I set the hook and I feel meat on the other end. Holy crud, I've hooked my neighbor's koi. I shouldn't have done this. What have I done? I can't undo this!
The neighbors don't notice at first because they are eating dinner (early bird special) and the splashing in the koi pond is nothing compared to the roast beef sandwhiches splashing in au jus suace. Eventually the great beast tires and while a sense of relief washes over me like the salmon of Capistrano, I still can't get the fish unhooked. I sure as heck can't just walk over into my neighbor's yard and unhook their ornamental fish so I start to drag the fish out of the pond and toward my property. It is with some ill-placed sense of pride that I am glad that I selected a 10 pound monofilament tippet. That's when my neighbors notice the multicolored critter being drug across their backyard. Mission accomplished, and mission failed all at the same time. I'm caught gold and orange handed. There I stand with a fly rod in my right hand, a koi in my left, and a guilty grin on my face. Hey neighbor, allow my to introduce myself. Oh yeah, my hands are full. You understand if we don't shake hands, don't you buddy?
Hands, not shaken. Apology, not accepted. Cops, called. Bail money, in my wallet. An awkward selfie with my fish of a lifetime, on the phone that I hope the cops won't take. Will it all be worth it...umm...yeah!
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