Was It a Whopper of a Catch, Whopper of a Story, or Both?

A few years back, I remember being among a small group of anglers who happened to overhear a conversation taking place between a couple of bass-tournament competitors following the weigh-in. One of them was relating to the other how, earlier in the day, he had lost a nice fish--"easily 7 pounds," as he described it--in an old duck blind on this one creek.

From that point to this, that piece of cover--what little is left of it, anyway--has been known as the "7-pound duck blind" among those of us who overheard the original story. We still have an occasional chuckle about that event, but we also frequently still take our turns checking to see if that 7-pounder perhaps has returned to the site of his now-somewhat-famous get-away.

I will admit I've caught some fish off that blind over the years since we branded it with that name. However, none of the fish have come anywhere close to being a 7-pounder. Neither have I heard any of the other guys claiming to have weighed in a catch of that magnitude.

Fishermen have been exaggerating the sizes of their catch--as well as a few that got away--for a long while, probably since the beginning of time, if the truth be known. The one place where you'd better think twice before embellishing on the size of your catch, though, is the Lone Star State. You see, Texas has a law on the books (it has been around since 2011), making it illegal to lie about the size of any fish you catch.

This law came about on the heels of a 2009 incident in which a pro angler tried to win a $55,000 fishing boat by adding lead weight to his bass. He was caught and thrown in jail for 15 days.

Both freshwater and saltwater tournaments are affected by this law, which makes a violation a Class A misdemeanor unless the tournament prize offered is more than $10,000. In that case, the violation becomes a third-degree felony, punishable by 2 to 10 years in prison and a fine of up to $10,000.

It bears mentioning here that, in 19th Century Japan, some enterprising fishermen already had found a foolproof way to record trophy catches. (Some versions of this origin story suggest they did so at the emperor's behest.) The method was known as gyotaku, or "fish rubbing," a process whereby fishermen were allowed to print inked fish onto paper, thus creating a permanent record of their sizes (see sample above). They used a nontoxic sumi-e ink traditionally used in both writing and painting, which easily could be washed off. Once the print was made, the fish either was released, if it still was alive, or sold at market.

Writer Scott Yoder characterizes fishermen exaggerating the size of their catch as "axiomatic," adding, "the one that gets away always is a whopper." A friend of his, who's originally from Cuba, claims Cubans are the ultimate weavers of fishing tales, noting that "nobody ever catches a tiny fish in Cuba.

"With Cuban fishermen," continued Yoder's friend, "the expectation that you'll exaggerate the size of your catch is so ingrained that everyone accounts for it when they consider what you actually caught. For example, when you say you caught a 10-pounder, they assume you're exaggerating. Everyone guesses you actually caught about a 5-pounder. If you catch a 5-pounder and tell the truth, everyone assumes you actually caught a 2-pounder."

Do you know how to tell when a fisherman is exaggerating? The answer to this question, according to some, is "anytime his/her lips are moving." If you ever watch Judge Judy on TV, you probably knew that answer immediately, because she frequently asks parents on her show a similar question. Her question always goes like this: Do you know how to tell when your teenager is lying to you? The answer then is the same as above.

Another writer I ran across in my research took note of the fact that, "when you look up 'fish-length-overestimation' in an online dictionary, you usually find an explanation similar to this: 'the act of habitually and impulsively, but not deceitfully, overestimating length and/or weight of a fish that has been caught or lost.' Synonym: Fisherman.

"As a fisherman," continued that writer, "I know that I've been guilty of this more than a time or two. Actually, I was the poster child for fish-length-overestimating. For years, I always estimated the fish I caught as being 18 to 20 inches. Once I began actually measuring them, though, that size range dropped to 15 to 17 inches."

In the final analysis, I tend to believe the vast majority of hard-core fishermen generally are honest about the fish they catch and/or lose. However, I also believe there are times when you're far better off taking what you hear with a large grain of salt. I especially urge you not to go lookin' for truth in all the wrong places (e.g., like a local tackle store or the neighborhood bar & grill).

Of course, the lines of truth as we've always known them suddenly have blurred, now that the Trump White House is in charge. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the concept of "alternative facts." I believe in calling a spade a spade, especially when the "alternative" carries far more potentially serious consequences than any which can be attached to a fisherman's overestimating the size of a fish.