Up at five a.m. On the water at six. Then a full morning of sun, wind, and adventure putting fish - or in the case of this picture - chinook salmon - in the box. Lake Superior is no place for fisherman to show up without a night of rest. A pleasure to be sure, but trolling on this grand lake is no nap.
But even with energy levels high at the start and the day a success, there is always - hopefully - the small if not tiresome matter of cleaning the catch when you land at the dock. Short of having a first mate, there is no way around some gutsy hands-on work to get the final task done. Fillets don’t just happen.
Fish-cleaning in my childhood revolved around a short stack of wood peach crates located in the mosquito infested woods by the water alongside my grandparents lake cabin. Gutting and scaling a summer’s day catch of sunfish was an end-of-the-day torment as we stood defenseless against the waiting armies of skeeters. The imprint on my sporting self was of course that the satisfaction of fishing ended when the catching was over. That has changed.
It started with setting up the proper cleaning station in my new fishing port many years hence. Build it right. Three feet high with an unshakeable base and a fine ample cutting board on top. Locate it right. Near water for easy cleaning. Near open air to keep flying critters at bay. Use it right. Clean your catch when they are fresh off the boat. Develop a finesse at the cleaning craft and pride yourself on honoring the fish caught with making beautiful fillets. Fish-cleaning has now become a ceremonial celebration of the bounty brought home, rather than a butchering buggy brawl to be endured.
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