Sermon ~ Sunday, January 28, 2018
The One That Didn’t Get Away
1 Cor. 8:1-33
Last Saturday dawned seasonably cold in Rockhaven. I believe I heard that out at the University Extension Field office on the blueberry farm (one of the coldest spots around) it was about -5. Here in town it was about zero. But the sun was shining and there was very little wind. A great day for the 25th Annual Josiah W. MacPherson Ice Fishing Derby held out on Hobbs Pond.
Josiah was an old bachelor woodsman and in the 1940s built a camp on Timber Point along the western shore of Hobbs Pond. In his later years he would invite all the kids out to his place to do some ice fishing. That was back when you had to carry all your gear or pull it on a sled from the landing by the outlet. Josiah’ camp was about a 2 mile walk across either ice or ice covered with foot of snow depending upon the year. Josiah would drill the holes, supply the tip ups and bait, have a roaring fire and all the hot dogs you could eat. Roasted of course, on a stick you cut from a bush along the shore. Many a son (and daughter) was given their very first jack knife for the occasion.
Josiah has been gone now for, gosh, I guess 30 years. Our community was rather surprised to learn that he had a rather sizable estate and a significant amount of it he designated to be used to establish a college scholarship fund for the youth of our community.
A couple of years after Josiah’s death some of the folks in Rockhaven got together and organized an ice fishing derby in his memory. It was so popular that they did it the next year and eventually the Rockhaven Youth Recreation Club took it on as an annual event, this year’s being as I said the 25th .
There have been some changes in the derby over the years. Today you’ll see more kids (and parents) with cross country skis than snow mobiles. Instead of a huge bonfire in front of Josiah’s old camp (now owned by Randal Stearns, Bea and Melvin’s son), gas grills are used to prepare lunch. And while red hotdogs are still on the menu, they’re turned with tongs, not cooked on whittled sticks. An occasional a steak will find its way onto a grill along with those vegetables wrapped in aluminum foil. Then there was the year they tried beer can chicken. But it being a youth event, the powers to be decided it would be more appropriate to use soda so it was a “cola can chicken!”
We’re seeing more people using these little sawed off fishing poles. People leaning over their fishing holes like monks in prayer.
Even the tip ups are “new & improved!” No longer the old home made single stick that is stuck into the ice beside the hole but these 3 dimensional things with the reel underwater. Some have even tried attaching a waterproof game camera and proposed using a radio controlled artificial bait that the “fisherperson” could control from inside their nice warm ice shack. But that was quickly ruled out of the derby along with the use of ice fishing shacks. No-sir-ree, we’re roughing it with our gas grills and our L.L. Bean poly-filled, thermo-lined, power-dry-stretch base layer, and Gore-Tex covered, weather challenger outerwear!
But the most notable change over the years has been indeed for the better. We are seeing more and more young girls and their Dads and even Moms with their sons.
This year some of the adults who were there as the local “fishing experts” were Danny Killington, Jed Carlisle, Joe closed the barber shop, Leslie and Jerome Jordan co-chairs of the Recreation Club, and Peter Warren, teacher at the alternative high school and Jake Bradley’s right hand for the church suppers. New this year was Sergeant Sally MacFague, the local game warden. She was there handing out junior game warden badges to any child that could show how to assemble and bait a tip up. Later she had gave rides in her Warden’s ATV equipped with lights and a siren! It was more of a hit than the little badges!
There were about 30-40 people, kids and adults, signed up for the derby this year. And as usual, the local merchants donated several items for prizes: a dozen bakery items of the winner’s choice from Holgrum’s Bakery; Harbor Hardware gave a tackle box with assorted hooks, sinkers and lures; Mason’s Pharmacy donated a set of six Ty Beanie Baby stuffed animals. But the grand prize was a dozen minnows a week for the entire ice fishing season from Wally’s Fish Market and Bait Shop! What 8-9 year-old wouldn’t by-pass the Beanie babies and go right straight for the bait!
Oh yes, and every participant got a small bag filled with pencils, pens and little note pads all imprinted with “Coleridge Digging & Construction, ‘Your Hole is Our goal!’ Sam Coleridge P.O. Box 235 Rockhaven.”
Anyway . . . amongst the families last Saturday was Perry Packard and his granddaughter, Jessie’s girl, Samantha. You remember Perry, owner/operator of Packard’s Garage and Towing on the way out south of town.
Samantha or “Sammy” as her grandad calls her, is an articulate, thoughtful 9 year old. She appreciates beauty and her interests span beyond Beanie Babies and Barbies! Her grandad on the other hand is an avid, old-school fisherman. He has the bass boat with the 200 hp Merc cruiser, a collection of fishing tackle that rivals the museum collection of Bass Pro Shop, he has his own Ice shack but he keeps his not on Hobbs Pond but on Franklin Lake where there are land-locked salmon and lake trout to be caught. Hobbs Pond is great for kids but serious fishermen like Perry don’t waste their time there, unless of course, you have a cute, dark-eyed, pony-tailed granddaughter pleading with you to take her to the Ice Fishing Derby!
So there they found themselves just off Timber Point where the bottom drops off into the deeper part of the pond, tending 3 or 4 tip-ups. (Perry insisted that at least they use his high tech ones!)
It was quiet throughout the morning. They had a couple of “flags” pulled up one little perch and lost the bait on the other.
They had just finished their lunch, Sammy had some of those potatoes, onions, and peppers cooked in the foil. Grandad Perry is more of a traditionalist. He scarfed down three of those red hotdogs, the ones long enough to hang out over both ends of the bun! He noticed the sun was disappearing behind a high layer of clouds which were lowering as the afternoon went on.
“A storm is coming.” Perry announced to Sammy. “Fish bite best right before the storm. Better make sure our bait is fresh and active.”
Sammy squirmed at the idea of checking the bait. It was bad enough that they had to use minnows that were still alive, to think that they were down there trying to swim around with a hook through their back was not something she had expected to be part of fishing.
All was good at the first tip ups they checked. Minnows still lively, depth about right.
As they were making their way out to the farthest one, suddenly the flag sprung up and the tip up slid over in the hole! When they got up to it they could see the line zipping off the reel and out towards the deeper water. Perry cautioned Sammy to be patient, let the line run. It stopped for a moment and just as Perry was reaching for the tip up, zing, off it went again!
When just about all of the 100 feet of line was out, it stopped. Perry carefully pulled the reel up out of the water, he took the line in hand and gave it a quick jerk to set the hook. He then passed the line to Sammy. The game was on!
What seemed like 30 minutes was more like five when Sammy and her grandad caught the first glimpse of what was on the end of their line. It was enormous! Perry caught just enough of it as it flipped it’s side under the hole. It was a pike, one that Captain Ahab could have told stories about. Suddenly Perry found himself thinking about that grand prize, a dozen minnows a week. But more than this, what this beauty would look like mounted and hanging over his desk in the little office at his garage!
Back and forth it went just under the ice. Perry had everything he could do not to take the line from Sammy but he knew that for the fish to count a youth had to pull it through the ice. Finally, the pike took a flip just as it came to the hole Sammy seeing her opportunity lifted her arms way above her head and up through the ice came the most massive and beautiful fish she had ever seen! Perry let slip a couple of colorful adjectives to which Samantha said “Grandad!”
Perry helped her lay the pike out on the ice to get a good look at it. It truly was a beauty. Sammy marveled at its magnificence. Perry let out a low whistle.
“Look Grandad! Look at those colors! So bright out here in the light. Imagine this is the first time this fish has seen light like this.”
“Look at those eyes Grandad. Imagine the knowledge of deep places of the lake in those eyes!”
Like I said, Samantha was an articulate and thoughtful girl for her age.
Then they came. The words Perry half expected but dreaded, the words he feared at that moment more than any others . . . “Grandad, we need to set it free!”
She looked at this beautiful creature struggling to breathe; it’s first thrashing around now only a wiggle.
“No! No!” Perry wanted to cry out. “It’s the grand prize winner! Maybe even the biggest fish in the 25 years of the Josiah W. MacPherson Ice Fishing Derby. No! we can’t”
But he didn’t.
The vision of the monster mounted and hanging in his garage office was fading like the afternoon sun. To him, it was a trophy and a story waiting to be told and embellished upon in years to come.
To Sammy it was one of God’s special creatures, of so much more value than a dozen minnows a week for fishing season.
Perry knew that it would be okay to keep the fish. If he really wanted to push the matter. After all, no laws were broken; it was a legally caught fish, certainly over the minimum size limit. And the God Perry prayed to often when fishing, would certainly understand!
But it was love that reached down and gently removed the hook from the toothy jaw.
It was love that reached under the massive fish, with the brilliant marking and dark eyes and with his granddaughter slide the prize winning pike through the hole to return to the deep haunts of Hobbs Pond.
Love won out over knowledge and legality, as it should.
St. Paul, who wasn’t a fisherman, like Peter and Andrew, wrote, “ . . . we know that “all of us possess knowledge.” Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.”
Perry and Samantha went home that afternoon with something that would remain with their relationship much longer than a dusty old pike hanging on a wall. The memory of a day fishing with a grandad and granddaughter that will be fixed in their memories forever.
For the special relationship, respect and love between them ran as deep as the pike’s home in the dark places of Hobbs Pond.
Sure there will be days Perry will still wonder “How he let the big one get away.” But he also knew that for today something much bigger and more important didn’t get away.
Listen to the Audio version by double clicking “Download File” below and open it on your PC. Enjoy.
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