Sunday Dinner: Debbie Moose discovers soothing fishing television

For Hub and me, the idea of fishing skates a little close to camping. Our mutual aversion to sleeping on the ground under pieces of flimsy fabric has been a foundation of our decades-long marriage.

How, then, do I explain our fascination with a fishing show?

On Saturday afternoons, we turn on Carolina Outdoor Journal and watch guys – nearly always guys – pulling finny things out of various bodies of water, which they fuss over and then throw back.

Sometimes I wonder if they’re catching the same fish over and over. I guess fish aren’t particularly smart or communicative, or they’d head back to their friends and say, “Hey, that neon green worm over there looks like a good breakfast, but don’t bite it or some nut will haul you out of the water and stare at you for a while.”

After being stared at, some fish are declared “pretty fish.” Not all, just some. Hub and I have turned “pretty fish” into a game in which we echo the call and take a sip of whatever refreshment we have nearby.

Maybe it’s the views of the ocean or of burbling rivers, or perhaps the soothing drone of the fishermen’s voices as they talk about reels and lures, but we find the viewing experience quite relaxing. Then we go out for sushi.

This show, which airs at 5 p.m. Saturdays, has been on UNC-TV for 22 years. That’s a lot of pretty fish.

One day, Hub and I watched an episode on fly fishing in the mountains and I found myself interested in more than the “pretty fish” count. Fly fishing appeared to require more skill than does throwing a line off the side of a boat and waiting.

In fly fishing, you don’t plunk a rod in the sand and fall asleep in a beach chair next to a beer with a towel over your face. Apparently, you have to flick the rod and line around in a manner that resembles Hermione doing her Potions homework. Bizarrely, this is appealing to me.

Joe Albea, Carolina Outdoor Journal producer, says fly fishing is more challenging than other forms of fishing, and it’s a growing area of the sport. As for the gender balance: “That’s a good observation. I try to have one or two on the show during a season, but the problem is finding women who fish. I’m always looking for ladies to put on the show, and young people, too … fishing has always been mostly guys.”

But, Albea says, fly fishing is seeing a lot of interest from women.

Then a food writing colleague told me about a fly fishing magazine aimed specifically at women. The Chicago-based Dun Magazine (DunMagazine.com) started two years ago as an international women’s fly fishing magazine, says Jen Ripple, editor-in-chief. And, no, it’s not all about pink fishing rods.

“While the demographic is tilting, you still see fewer women than men on the water. I wanted a place for women to have a home and realize they were not on the water alone,” Ripple says. “Women may not be as strong as men at times in other arenas, but fly casting isn’t about strength, it’s about timing. It’s the perfect sport for women.”

Then she pointed out that a woman wrote one of the earliest – possibly the first – books about fly fishing. Around 1420, an English abbess named Juliana Berners wrote “The Treatyse of Fysshynge with an Angle,” which covered such things as types of hooks and making fishing tackle. Remarkably, she also promoted conservation.

I have caught three fish in my entire life. One was red plastic and lay in the bottom of a pail of water on my front stoop. I was 3, and my father kept a picture on his office desk of me with the plastic fish and little pole until he retired.

The second was a single croaker, from a trip with a boyfriend nearly 40 years ago. I thought the fish would be dead when it came out of the water, and had no interest in staring at it when it was actually flopping madly. He took it off the hook after I threatened to throw rod and all in the water.

The third is a colorfully painted wooden rendition of a salmon, which holds up shopping lists on my refrigerator. I hooked that beauty in a Seattle gift shop.

So, with my experience level, I asked Ripple what she thought about trying fly fishing. “Absolutely,” she said. “Fly fishing is great because you are always improving your cast or learning something new. But be warned, it is a very addictive sport. I will not be responsible for the money and time spent on your newfound passion.”

Oh, good. Something besides my yarn habit to fill the office closet. And I’ve never knitted a pretty fish.

This story was originally published October 4, 2015 at 12:40 PM with the headline "Sunday Dinner: Debbie Moose discovers soothing fishing television."