Treasure Chest
About this time of year, in mid-winter, when I was a youngster,
I always felt compelled to head down into the basement to fetch our treasure
chest and bring it upstairs to spread its contents out on the kitchen table. Of course, I may have been the only one in
the family that recognized it as a treasure chest; especially my mother who
always insisted that I spread newspaper out on the table first before taking
anything out of the chest. She was
concerned about protecting the table from scratches; I do not think she had any
special feelings for the contents.
To the uneducated or casual observer, the treasure
chest was my father’s fishing tackle box.
It was appropriately metal, and it had three clasps that held the lid
fast. Of course, none of the clasps
locked, but that was just practical as you would not want to be searching for
the key every time you needed a new hook.
The fact that it did not lock did not reflect on the
value of the contents. In fact, I had
the same sense of wonder every time that I slowly opened the lid – the two tiered
trays unfolding as the lid swung wide open.
I think that I was about twelve when I was first
allowed to use any of the artificial lures, so those were always the ones that
intrigued me most. I remember them well
even though it has been well over fifty years.
In the trays on the left side were big metal spoons. The red ones with the white stripes were used
to catch big pike. The hammered nickel and
copper spoons were ones that my father used to use for lake trout when they
lived near Lake Superior. The trays near
the middle held a couple of Heddon divers for when the big ones were down deep,
and a black hula popper for shallow water when the big bass were on the prowl
in the twilight hours of dusk – the most magical hour for fishing on almost any
given day. The trays to the left held
gold and silver Rapala minnows and an orange Lazy Ike with black polka dots.
I would take each lure out and examine it closely. To someone as attuned as I was, one could
hear in the mind’s ear the splash as the lure hit the surface of the
water. Watch now, as the little ripples
radiate outward from where the lure lay; then see it dive beneath the surface. Feel the wobble of the swimming lure in the
line as it slips through your fingers.
Then feel the strike – hard and sudden.
See the rod gracefully arc and throb with each headshake of the
now-hooked monster. Even in my mind I
only netted about half of those imagined trophies; the rest pulled free. Sometimes it happened in a spray of water
just at the side of the boat, while other times the dream fish stayed deep the
whole time only to pull free to remain ever a mystery.
As the battle ended with each lure held once more up
to the light, I would then take the little rasp from the bottom compartment of
the tackle box and carefully sharpen each hook, even though I was allowed to use
them, and I had never actually seen my father use them either. Our fishing was always limited to deep water
fishing for perch, or shallow water fishing for bluegills depending on the lake
that we were camped on.
After all the hooks were sharpened, I carefully put
each lure back into its assigned tray – almost like cows that dutifully report
to the proper stanchion in the barn at milking time. I made sure that the contents of the bottom
drawer – an old knuckle-buster reel, a pair of pliers, a leader holder, and a
pocketknife were all carefully arranged.
The treasure in that box was not the lures so much as
the stories that each could tell and even more, the stories that they may tell
some new day. One last look. Then the lid was carefully closed. I slid the tackle box back onto the shelf in
the basement. Spring will come.
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
PS
The pictures are of my
father’s tackle box; it is empty because I now use it to hold an assortment of
materials that I use to tie trout flies and I set them aside to get a better view of the box itself.
Besides, I could never fit all my current fishing tackle into that
little metal box. My current tackle box
has six trays that fold out both directions and a bottom tray that is twice as
large. I do not know that the additional
gear helps me catch more fish, but I am convinced that each lure may be the
correct lure on any given day.
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