In a funk

I could write up details of my trips like I've been doing, but it'd basically sound the same: no fish, lots of work.

I did 5 nights last week, and bounced around between a couple different spots.  I had 3 small fish, spread over 2 trips, and 3 skunks.  I even became the worlds biggest hypocrite and bought some eels.  Made no difference.  But I will fish them for a while.  But only for a little while.  Maybe more on that later.

It's been depressing.  But, in a way, I'm OK with it.  Last year was a lot worse.  I was dealing with some personal issues and the lack of fish was really hard on me.  And as it got worse and worse I made the mistake of backing off.  This year, I'm just accepting it as it comes, and if anything have been working even harder.  I have let go of my goals too, and that has helped.  The goal now is to simply fish the best plan every night to my maximum capacity and ability.  If I do that 4 to 5 nights (or more) a week, I will call the season a success.  I know there will be good nights to come.  Hopefully a bunch of them.

Noted: things are way behind schedule because May was so cold, crazy amount of NE wind, and I'm just hoping it turns around soon.  In fact, when I was driving back last week in the middle of the night, I saw 41 degrees on my car thermometer.  That's in JUNE!

Finally, I was told recently that we're supposed to struggle.  There's supposed to be hard times, because that's how you REALLY learn.  That's how things feel really satisfying when you finally succeed.  I've succeeded before, more than a "few" times (never enough!), so I have the added bonus of knowing what that feels like.  It'll happen.  I know it'll happen.  Just have to work hard, and to quote someone who told me this recently- "do it right".  For me, doing it right is fishing my logs, working really hard, and relying on myself to find the fish.

And have as much fun with the skunks as possible.

Oh.  And one night this past week, as I went to jump off my rock at 2am- shark!  Not big, but it was RIGHT there.  Maybe 3-4ft- big enough to make me turn on all my lights.  Big enough to make me really hustle back to shore.  Big enough to make me exclaim "holy FUCK".  Big enough that when I wade to/from rocks, I now turn my lights on.  Man, sometimes those wades feel awful long!