Fishing With Goldfish

Fishing with Goldfish

Back when I was young and foolish, I liked ice fishing. I really did. I never had much fun ice fishing but I guess I just figured it was the thing to do during our long Michigan winter. I could not afford a shotgun for hunting and I didn’t have a father to take me anyway.

Every fall a few of my buddies and I would chip in and build an ice shanty. We would hunt pop bottles and save allowance and by the time the weather was getting cold we usually had enough money for the Masonite that we used for walls.

Most of the wood we would scroung from the many construction sites in our area so Masonite and nails were our biggest expense, that and the hinges and hasps.

We usually had a stove left over from the previous winter. We used wood or fuel oil. I liked wood because it was cheap and didn’t stink like the oil did. Oil was good though because a tank would last all day and with wood it seemed like we were tossing wood in every few minutes. Another problem with wood is the fact that it was much harder regulating the temperature. It seemed like we were always roasting or freezing our butts off.

I always liked a big shanty and because there were usually two or three of us in the thing, it had to be pretty big. Most shantys had small holes in the for fishing gills but I always liked to be able to see what was down there.

Our shantys were 4ft by 8ft. and about 6ft at the peak. I always put in a two foot by four foot hole in one end and even though it was a bugger to chop through a foot or two of ice it was like looking into an aquarium. We usually fished for gills or bass, the bass were illeagle, but occasionally we would take out a spear and try to nail a big old northern pike.

When we were after pike we would go to old man Briggs Sporting goods and buy a shiner for maybe a nickel or a dime, I don’t really remember how much we paid but it could not have been more than that.

We would get our gear and hitch hike out to the lake, none of us were old enough to drive, or sometimes we would end up walking all the way. That was a pain on a cold winters day as it was at least 5 miles each way. Some times we could catch a ride with my buddies parents but my dad was dead by then and I was pretty much always on my own.

One Friday afternoon Ronald French (Frenchy) and I decided to go fishing and stay all night in the shanty. It was gonna be a mighty cold night but that just never entered our minds. We had a shanty and we had a stove, a wood stove, and we were a going fishing, that was enough for two young boys back then.

We went to Briggs Sporting Goods and got a bucket of menners because we were a gonna be fishing crappie. They seemed to bite well at night and we wanted some. It was a pain to hitch hike out to the lake with our box of tackle and a bucket of menners but we had it to do. We did not dare to leave our tackle out there because someone would steal it.

We picked up the stuff we needed and headed for Orchard Lake, where the shanty was. We were lucky and got a ride right off and soon he dropped us at the Church which was right on the lake.

We walked out to the lake with Minnows and tackle, along with a lunch for each of us. I liked baloney sandwiches because I could toast them right on the stove. We also took along some pop to drink. I usually just dipped water out of the lake to drink but it seems we had pop that night. There were quite a few shantys out there, maybe 10 or 15 but not many fishermen stayed much after dark. Most were there to spear Pike and you can not see them after dark.

Ol’ Frenchy was big enough to eat hay. He was big and slow. Not dumb but just a sort of guy that was never in a rush. He was about my age, 13 or so mebby 14 but much bigger. I was a bit of a runt back then.

We got to the shanty and got the stove going. Then we took the ice spud and started a chopping out the hole, all two foot by four foot of it. We were lucky because one of us, I don’t really remember who, had been out there a day or two before and the ice had not frozen too badly.

We had tossed a handful of snow in the minnow bucket because the water had to be as cold as the lake or the dang minners would die the second they hit the water of frozen ass or something. I was not about to hitchhike back for more minnows.

We got took turns with the spud and soon had a nice clean hole. Some times it was a pain when we went out because if a muskrat had found your shanty, it could be half full of seaweed!! They will just take the dang shanty over and there is not a thing you can about it other than kill that rat or move the shanty.

I remember setting in a shanty one time, after cleaning out the dang weeds and crap they had hauled in and being all relaxed and all, have a dang muskrat come a busting up through the hole with a mouth full of seaweeds. I don’t know who was scared the most, me or the rat but I know dang well who was a yelling the loudest. He came a lunging out of the black water, right at my feet and I yelled and threw myself back off the dang bench I was a setting on. Course that skeered the dang rat and it started a running past me, not toward the water like he shoulda but behind me. I spun around and swung at where I thought he was, all the time yelling and cussin, it is dark in a shanty and the sucker ran into the dang hot stove. Not in the stove but up against it. He should have been able to see it! The dang thing was a glowing! Now in this shanty, that shortly before I was a thinking was so big, was me and a dang half cooked muskrat and he was not a liking it a bit.

He hit that stove and it must have singed him a bit because he started a squalling. I didn’t know what the hell the noise was but I was convinced that was the noise a rat made just before he took a fellers jugular out!! I was still flat on my back and had no clue where that rat was or what his intentions were. It scared me more that him, I will tell you that!! I am a swinging and yelling and that dang rat was doing something but I didn’t have a clue what but I was sure I was gonna get rat bit! Finally he dove in the hole and was gone. OK by me. I was just lucky that I was in the shanty alone at the time. I would have never heard the end of it.



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Anyway back to the night with Frenchy. We had gotten set up, stove running and hole cleaned out. It was getting a bit late and the light was hitting the ice at quite an angle so it was pretty dark in the water. We could not see a dang thing but we didn’t expect to at night anyway.

We started to fish and sat there talking and watching out bobbers. Crappie have paperlike mouths and you need a pretty light bobber and when you set the hook you have to do it lightly or you will rip it right out. Man those dang fish were not gonna be a biting tonight I was a thinking and I was right. We fished for a few hours and finally said to hell with it and decided to turn in.

I was a scrawny little runt back then and it was good because Ron was so big. We plopped our cover over the hole so we could lie on it. Threw a couple blankets on the floor and tried to settle in. We had to stay away from the dang stove and try to get comfortable.. With our stove, tackle Colman Lantern, white gas food and everything else we had there was not much room but we finally found a position we could lie in and after stoking the stove with a bit of our dwindling supply of wood, finally dozed off.

Now we did not have a huge supply of wood because we could not hitch hike with a load of wood and we just figured we would get some along shore to burn. Now we were young but it seems like even being young we would have had enough sense to have this supply of wood put aside before going to sleep. Wrong!! We had a little left and as I was drifting off I looked at the pile and somehow convinced myself that it would last.

As I lay there on the floor I let my mind drift and listening to the wind howl and the shaking of the shanty I fantasized that I was on a far northern adventure. I was thinking about the great fishing I had read about in Field and Stream and Outdoor Life about fishing Lake Athabaska in northern Canada and for a little while there, just before dozing off, that is where I was.

It seemed like it was only a minute later Ron was a kicking me and yelling for me to throw some wood on the fire as it was getting colder than heck. Man it must be below zero and I was a freezing my arse off. I grunted and looked at the wood, grabbed a chunk and eased the door on the stove open to feed the fire. You gotta open the damper first or you will get a shanty full of smoke. I didn’t open the damper and got a shanty full of smoke. Ron started a choking and a yelling at me to open the dang door before we were kilt! I was a laying on my right side and trying to feed the dang fire and now the sucker wanted me to open the dang door. He was big so I opened the dang door.

Holey Mackrel it was cold and the dang wind was blowing right into the door. Now I was in trouble again. He starts a yelling that I am a freezing his arse off, like it wasn’t me in front of the dang open door. I yanked it shut an stuffed the little wood we had in the dang stove. I also told him to kiss my ass. He was tightening my jaws he was.

I looked at my watch, an old Timex that had to be wound every day so it was usually wrong. It said it was 12:30 am. Dang! Weren’t much wood there. It got toasty right quick so I managed to go right back to sleep.

THROW SOME WOOD ON THE DANG FIRE!! I’M FREEZING MY ARSE OFF!! Ron yells again. He had an ass like an 800 dollar mule, he ought to be freezing it off, I thought. I didn’t say it though.

I reached for the wood and there was none. I must have been stoking the sucker in my sleep because the little wood we had was not gone. Dang! Now what?

I told him the wood was all used up and he told me to go get some. I again told him to kiss my arse and lay back down, getting as comfortable as I possible could. He looked up and just grunted. I told him to go and he said he was not gonna so we decided to see who would outlast who.

It got colder and colder, it seemed. I was dressed for icefishing but the cold was getting to me. I kept dozing off and waking up, I don’t know how many times but finally it broke daylight and we got to sturring. Probably Gods way of preventing idiots from freezing to death.

We kept bickering back and forth about who was gonna go get some wood. We were in a bay, not far from a small wooded island and there would be wood there. I finally said to hell with it and headed out. I was so dang cold that I can still feel it. The wind was hitting me right in the face and was blowing snow. I got to the island and looked back at the shanty and it sure looked lonely that early morning. He had the Colman a burning so I could see a little light around the door.

I stumbled around the island gathering sticks and what ever I thought would burn. Many of the fishermen used the island for the same purpose so there were slim pickings but I got a small armful. Gosh I was cold!

I stiffly ambled back to the shanty with my load and kicked the dang door. “Open the dang door ya dumbass!” I was freezing. He opens the door and says, “bout time, I’m chilly” Chilly my arse. I crawled in and it was actually rather comfortable from the heat of the Coleman Lantern. Those suckers give off a lot of heat.

He started chopping the wood up a bit with the ice spud and I was getting the fire going. We soon had the thing a roaring and then he started a complaining that it was too hot. I once again told him what he could do but being a big old boy, he could not.

Once we were warm and I had put another bologna sandwich on the stove, if you put them on and leave the wax paper on it it toasts up really pretty. It also made Ron sick seeing me eat the wax so I made a habit to do it that way.

We decided to try to catch some fish so we lifted the lid covering the hole and set up. It was getting bright out and we could see down the hole and into the weedbed. It was really interesting because we could see the fish coming up to our bait but the bad thing was the fact that we could also see them NOT bite. There must have had a couple dozen panfish down there but they would not bite. We tried for a couple hours but caught nothing worth remembering.

We decided to try to lure a pike in. To do that you need a big chub or shiner. We would hook the line to the roof of the shanty, directly over the center of the hole and lower the chub down a few feet . We would hook them through the back, right under the dorsal fin and if done right, they will last for days.

It is an interesting way to fish, if you are in a good area. You can set there for hours and see nothing but then the chub will start moving around. That is because he can see the dang pike or big old bass a moving in, even if you can not. This makes it exciting as you watch in anticipation of a kill. The problem is, even if the pike comes in you have to be very careful when you put the spear in the water. The spear we used were five tined and deadly but if you make a ripple on the water with it the pike will take off. Their eyes are on the top of their heads and can see everything that goes on.

Well we didn’t have a chub or a shiner. Dang! The nearest place to get one was Briggs Sporting Goods, back in Keego Harbor, where we lived. A chub cost about a dime or a quarter, I can not remember but I knew I didn’t have no dang dime or quarter. Rod did so that told me what dang fool was gonna have to be a hitch hiking after a dang old chub! Me.

I got a great idea.. Now gold fish for bait is illegal and it was for a reason, I reasoned. They were good!! Dang ole Pike must not be able to resist a pretty thing like a fancy Goldfish. We ought to go get one, I thunk. Ron said I was nuts but I really thought it was a killer way to get a Pike. We had not been having much luck and that would surely do the trick.

The problem was that the goldfish cost 65 cents, for a big one and another problem was the fact that the nearest place to get one was all the way into Pontiac and the Kresges Store. Man that was a good 10 miles each way. I didn’t have the dime or quarter for the chub so I dang sure didn’t have the 65 cents for the dang Goldfish. Luckly Ron did as he worked at a grocery store and said if I went after it he would pay. Good deal!!

Off it went across the ice. It was still cold but it was not mid morning and was warming a bit and I had a plan. What boy is not doing better when he has a plan.

I hiked up to Commerce Road and stuck out my thumb. I can not remember how long it took me to get to Pontiac or how many rides it took but I finally got there and trudged to the store. I went in and headed down to the pet area. There the were, a tank full of fancy goldfish. I was in hog heaven!!

The lady came over and asked what she could do for me and I told her I wanted a goldfish! A Big goldfish. I could not tell her what I was gonna do with it because it was “Against the law” and she was a grownup. I would not look right at her because every kid knows a grownup can read your mind. She would call the dang old cops and I would be put in jail!! I was sure.

I still remember her boxing that big old goldfish up in a cardboard box like they put Chinese food in for take out. It was a beautiful Goldfish! It had to be 4 inches long, a little small for a pike lure but I figured that its gold color and the fact that it had all those hangy down fins and all, it had to be a killer.

I was ready now. I gingerly held the box under my coat to protect it from the elements and headed for Orchard Lake Road and stuck out my thumb.

I have no idea how long it took to get back to the lake but it seemed like for ever. I could not wait to get that sucker in the water and start a spearing Pike!! It had to be the way to go, after all it was illegal was it not?? Had to be the way to go. I know I held it in my lap and tried to keep it warm but what the heck, goldfish live in cold water so I should not worry but that thing cost 65 cents of Frenchys money.

I finally get to the Church and the driver lets me off and thanking him, I head for the lake. I shuffle across the parking lot and down the hill to the lake. I could see the fishermen on the lake and had to keep the box hidden so they would not figure out what we were up to.

When I got to the shanty Ron was setting outside fishing for gills. He had a few on the ice but I was interested in one thing. A big ole Pike!!

He asked what the hell took so long and I told him that I went as fast as I could, what the heck, I am the one that went after it. He said it had dang well better work because that was the last of his money until payday. I said it had to work. It is illeagle isn’t it?? Has to work.

I was as excited as heck. Man we was a gonna git a pike! A big one!! I grabbed the hook that we put the chub on and it sure looked big! I decided to use a smaller hook, mebby a #4 or #6 because that dang thing we usually use would bust his dang backbone!! I sure the heck didn’t want that to happen cuz if they are dead they won’t draw no dang pike!

Ron was still out there fishing and I told him I was riggin up. He mumbled something but I could not hear or I was just ignoring him. I dug out a hook and strung it on the line and then tenderly reached in and cradled the beautiful little Goldfish. I gentily held on to him and slid the hook under the dorsal fin, between the fin and the backbone, like I had done so many times. Aaaah, Perfect. He was still lively as could be.

I yelled at Ron that I was lowering him in and he yelled something. I yelled, “What?” as I dropped the fish in. He started down but looked sorta funny. He didn’t move. Ron stuck his dang old head in the shanty and said, “Don’t forget to put snow in with the fish first so he won’t have no dang heart attack!”

Crap, says I! That bad boy was as stiff as a dang board and there was no mouth to mouth gonna bring him around. I dun kilt him before he could draw diddly. He just floated down and hung there. I wiggled the line a little but it did no good. I didn’t know what the hell to say or do but Ron was pissed as he could be.

From there on the fishing trip went down hill, even though Ron and caught a bunch of gills. I was really upset with myself for being such a dang idiot but I just wanted to get that Goldfish in the water.

I finally packed up and headed home. I was reminded of that stupid stunt for a long time, every time my buddies and I started talking about the morons we have known.


Heck of a long story about killing a dang Goldfish, weren’t it?