catching bluefish

It has been almost twenty years since I intentionally killed anything besides a plant in order to eat it. Yesterday, as a matter of addressing the one-half of my 100 mile food radius that encompasses only ocean, I ventured to the beach to catch some fish. I have practically no ocean fishing experience to speak of having only fished in the lakes and streams of my native Western New York, eight hours drive from the nearest salt water.

I asked Noel to provide me with his knowledge, and we set out with borrowed fishing poles and a cast net. After a brief stop so that I could get a fishing license ($15, cash only which Noel had to spot me) we were off to the beach. We were lucky enough that a nice person gave us their already paid for parking pass as they were leaving. The pass was good for eight more hours, and Noel passed it along to someone else as we left a few hours later.

We had good luck with fishing as well. After getting the poles set up for live bait, we threw the cast net into the masses of mullet fish, bringing in dozens without really trying. After about thirty minutes of casting around, bluefish started biting and we caught six in a short amount of time. One ended up shaking itself off my hook, so we ended up bringing five home with us. Five was plenty for the day.

When we got home Noel showed me how to clean and scale the bluefish and gave me pointers on where the bones were and what to cut out. It was a quick and easy process, the fish being long dead and fairly stiff. The fish were frying in the pan mere hours after they were hauled out of the water.

Remove the head –

Clean out of the organs –

Remove the scales –

Wash the fish –

Ready to go –

The preparation was simple – flour, salt, pepper and a few eggs for the batter then simply frying the fish for several minutes on both sides. I never really liked fish when I was growing up, but I was basically forced to eat it since it was what was available. I did like this fish though more so since I had caught and cleaned it myself. It won’t be long before I go through the process again now that I know how it is done.

Breading –

Fry –

Enjoy –

After the meal was finished and everyone had gone home, I had some time to reflect on what had happened. To me there was no “well, it’s just a fish” moment. These creatures were just swimming around out there, living, when by chance they ate another fish that happened to have a hook in it. All that swimming around and living ended as they suffocated in a five gallon bucket, so that I and others could eat them. Those fishes sacrifice is important to me. If it breathes oxygen, then pause and thanks must be given when that life ends. I will feel the same with whatever it is that I kill, and I cannot diminish the fact that something gave up their existence so that I could continue mine.

I have made it of primary importance to know where my food comes from, but there is a great difference between buying a frozen and already processed chicken from Grassy Ridge and actually doing the killing and cleaning myself. But it is imperative that I get further into that process in order to understand it and also to proceed humanely and without waste, just as it should be. Thanks bluefish…