One of my favorite concepts from the brilliant, long-running Simpsons series is the idea of the “Hell Labs: Ironic Punishment Edition.” Recipients of punishment are made to endure their most-beloved habits or items in a way that’s meant to make them hate them. Homer Simpson, therefore, is fed an unceasing stream of donuts, as you can see in the video below:

While even the most gluttonous men around might eventually cry uncle, all that Homer can do is ask for “More.” Repeatedly.

Unfortunately, at some point most of us can experience the proverbial too much of a good thing. Or, in my case, too close to a good thing. For a diehard angler and traveler like myself, being close to a great fishery and not getting the opportunity to wet a line is in many ways worse that just staying at home. I’m not necessarily against going to great bodies of water and not fishing – clearly, I’ve sat in a boat taking notes and shivering or dodging raindrops while covering a lot of Bassmaster Classics – but there’s a special irony to missing out when there’s no other practical reason for abstaining.

Some of my missed opportunities include the following:

On two trips to Hawaii, in 1992 and 2010, I did not make a single cast.
When we drove from Seattle to San Francisco for Hanna’s 50th birthday in 2018, we did not detour to Clear Lake, Berryessa or the Delta, despite numerous offers to do so.
On a fall business trip to Idaho, I stood on the banks of Coeur d’Alene and Pend Oreille, but never got in a boat to chase those kokanee-chomping smallmouths.

While I wish I had fished in each of those situations it’s not the end of the world. All of those locales are within the United States, and I know people in each of them who would be willing to take me fishing. The opportunity exists.

Similarly, in February of 2012, my friends Bill Roberts, Lee Byrd and I met up with Kurt Dove in Zapata (Lee brought his boat, too) and we fished Falcon. I had to go directly from that trip to the Classic in Shreveport. The easiest way to get there was to hitch a ride with Kurt back to Del Rio, and then fly through Houston to Shreveport – so while I’ve stood on a boat ramp at Amistad, I’ve never fished there, either. Again, not that big of a deal. I’m sure that someday I will fish the big border lake. Besides, we had a great week in Zapata.

Still, there are a couple of missed opportunities that gnaw at me. Two of the most malignant happened over a decade ago, but they still hurt because they’re two places that aren’t easy to get back to.

Tahiti 2005

Hanna and I visited the islands of Papeete, Moorea and Bora Bora for our honeymoon. The whole experience was exceptional – overwater huts with glass coffee tables through which you could watch the fish as you enjoyed a cocktail, tremendous food, and glorious scenery. We engaged in a bunch of outdoor activities, including snorkeling with sharks and docile rays, driving “Funny Cat” boats around the islands. Figuring I would be doing newlywed things, and since the internet wasn’t yet completely pervasive in our lives, I did no research into fishing ahead of time. That was mistake number one. The second mistake was that when our island resort offered to send us on a half-day fishing charter, we jumped on it without asking any questions, just slapping down the credit card. We effectively went on an expensive boat tour. One mahi showed up in the spread. We did not hook it.

I’ve since learned that there is an established high-quality offshore charter fishery there, as well as a chance to pop for shallow water demons like Giant Trevally. I wish I had known that then. My guess is that I will chase GTs and their brethren at some point in the future, but probably not in Tahiti. With so many places to go, we’re likely one-and-done.

Japan 2007

Two years later, my brother and his young family were living in Tokyo, and they hosted us in their luxury apartment. Making it even better, my fluent brother arranged for us to travel to several other cities throughout the country. The added bonus was that my friend Matt Paino of Optimum Swimbaits was there, and he arranged for some true insider stuff, including lots of shopping and a visit to the Yokohama fishing show. Meanwhile, friends Curt Arakawa and David Swendseid introduced me to Seiji Kato and Ty Ono, the masterminds behind Jackall Lures. They took us on a factory tour, out tackle shopping, and then for an unforgettable night of food, drink and karaoke.

All along we were spitting distance from Lake Biwa. Two years later Manabu Kurita caught a world-record tying largemouth there. I’m not saying we would have caught a giant, or anything at all (I later heard from Aaron Martens and others how tough Biwa could be) but I regretted that I didn’t take a shot at the now-famed fishery – especially since my brother’s family (now two children larger) has moved back to the US, so I no longer have a built-in (and free) base of operations or a fluent travel organizer.

Lessons Learned

Sometimes, especially if you’re likely to go back, it’s ok for the sake of work/family/marital harmony NOT to fish.
Sometimes it pays to build in an extra day or three into an otherwise non-fishing trip.
Don’t waste money on unlikely charters and outfitters.
Do your research – so you know what to expect and how to maximize your chances of success.
Even a trip where you don’t make a cast can be a fishing success – if you only have time to hit a local tackle store, have a beer with an angling friend, etc., that’s better than nothing.
The best way to overcome any lingering regret in life is to drown it out by making plans to do exceptional things.