Exploring the conciseness of animals & fish – Part01
When I was about thirteen, I remember reading an article in a hunting magazine that illustrated a concept about the exceptional sense of smell in animals. It highlighted a fact that in many cases animals reaction to a scent varies according to the type and contents of that particular body odour. It further went on to exemplify that if you are carnivorous in nature your scent will reflect it, and animals such as herbivorous game species will use this information to stay out of reach. They can read your scent like a tag, “ I eat meat and I could eat you!” Hence hunters who were out on deer hunts maintained a vegetarian diet, which helped disguise their scent.
Back then, the concept seemed a little out there, but it stuck. It was only much later did I realise it’s true extent and potential – “What you are” may not be limited to just “what you smell”, but it’s also about “what you think.”
I have a new theory, but before we start, I have a disclaimer to make – In this article, we are going to go beyond the laws of regular science and hence I have used the word “Paraphysics.” The concept might challenge your current notions on “how things work”, especially your concept of the mind and energy. The below deductions are the result of my own personal experiences and my experiments have not been verified by any conventional scientific methods.
As stated – animals react to the essence of your scent and this reaction is largely based on what you have consumed, which in turn reflects outwards. What if we take this concept further to the realm of the mind. Can organism react to your emotions?. Dogs indeed can smell fear. When we humans are experiencing stress or fear, we give off a distinct odour that dogs can smell. When you’re nervous, adrenaline pumps through your veins and dogs can smell this hormone. Although these smells are undetectable to human noses, dogs ultra-sensitive snouts can pick them up. While human noses have 6 million receptor sites, a dog’s nose can have up to 200 to 300 million.
If animals can understand our emotions through scent, can they also relate to what we are thinking by accessing the realm of our thoughts and intentions? To understand this we first have to understand thought. I will exemplify this in the context of fishing. We can broadly categorise fishing is a form of hunting. This activity is based on a predatory nature of stalking and catching a fish; hence the intent of the fisherman would be “To catch/kill a fish.” A thought with a definite purpose is called intent. It’s a crystallised form of thought which has a definite nature and is supported by the drive to act-it-out as compared to just randomly thinking of something. Hence intent is more potent, has more energy than a random thought. To further exemplify this, imagine intent as an energy format – like electromagnetic waves, which can be carried across beyond the limitation of physical barriers like distance. Animals and humans sensitive enough can pick up these waves, just as a sensitive nose can pick up a certain scent and the emotions that lie within. It has also be noticed that dogs can sense their owner’s arrival much before their owners actually arrive. The dog tends to get excited well before its owner arrives, which suggest some sort of mental communication or what we call a sixth sense, “telepathy”. If so how does this sense work? Do dogs have the ability to tune into their master’s thoughts?
Application to fishing
I am going to illustrate an experience, which I believe most fishermen have encountered at some point in their career. I have paid careful attention in investigating each of the cases from an unbiased perspective.
Case Number 1.0 – Catching all the fish
Often times, it has been noticed that on a fishing expedition – one man seems to catch the most number, if not all the fish. Given that location, line, hook, and bait of the rest of the fishermen present are all similar.
The logical answers to such situations are the man catching all the fish has better expertise/technique, basically is a better fisherman. In most cases, I found that the above logical answer to be not completely true. In fact, a careful consideration of the bait, equipment, immediate location, and technique showed that everything in the group was consistent (with some minor variations), except for the quantity fish caught by one particular individual far exceed the rest. It seemed like the rest of the fishermen standing on that very same spot were doing something wrong. Similar experiences have happened to me, I have caught most of the fish on a particular day, while experts (with proven track records), standing on either side of me have caught close to nothing!
Speaking to numerous anglers, most of them admit that such scenarios happened rather regularly, but they seem to attach little importance to it by boiling it down to “luck”. The skeptical ones still stick to the logical answer on technique (these are the ones with a serious lack of “on the water” experience).
- The introspection here, is why is that one fisherman’s hook-up rate phenomenally higher than the rest, given that all other influences are more or less identical?
- Can the fish sense the fishermen intent/emotion/thoughts at the end of the line, is this influencing how they approach and take a particular bait on the hook v/s other baits around?
I would like to summarise with a story. Storytelling has always been a very effective way to bring home the underlying message of such abstract concepts.
I knew an old fisherman called Micky, who was in his late 70’s and having fished his entire life he was fit as a fiddle. Besides being a master fishermen, Mickey was also a great philosopher. With a few exception, on any particular day, Micky always seemed to catch the largest or the most fish. He had an uncanny sense of timing, catching most of his fish when the rest of the folks had packed up for the day.
Micky was very specific about his fishing, firstly, his tackle was a simple assortment of a rod and reel, which I believe was as old as himself, his old lures bore scars from many conflicts with large predators. He treated his equipment like old friends, very gentle with his touch. At times he fondly personified them with first names. He tied his knots with an air of confidence, working his way very slowly through the knot with his sights always fixed out to sea. Micky’s every movement was frustratingly slow, never did he hurry about anything and when fighting a fish he exhibited a sense of grace and tenderness. Only later did I realise that this was an extreme essence of calmness that he exemplified in his every action.
The real revelation was – Micky’s ability to know exactly when and where to fish. While the rest of us were busy whipping up the water, Micky made very few cast and when he did cast out, they always produced fish. There were days when Micky did not make a single cast or attempt to catch a fish. He used just sit there and stare out at the water, after a while he would get up and leave, making his signature remark. “There aren’t any fish in the swim today.”
On reaching a fishing spot, Micky never rushed out to cast his lines (unlike the rest of us who behaved like a bunch of excited schoolboys), he used to just sit down and watched the water for the longest time. I thought it was physical signs of bait fish or predators he was looking for. Until one day he told me something really cryptic but potent, I rather relate this in his own words.
He said “You must sit down and become still, this will slow your heart down and when that happens you would see things that others miss. Second, know “where you are”, look out at the sea, the sky, the rocks, they all work in a rhythm. Identify with it, become one with the rhythm, it will make you invisible. The fish then, will not see you or smell you, and most importantly they will not feel you. Sometimes you might feel them before you can see them. Then you should cast your line without a moment’s hesitation.”
Micky really did not elaborate or talk much about his theory, probably thought that people would not understand, or maybe he did not want to suffer the ridicule of being called a superstitious old fisherman. For me, there seem to be a certain underlying essence in his theory, a hint that needs some careful analyses – firstly, if fish could feel your presence, then in order to catch them at will, it was going to take more than fancy tackle or conventional fishing knowledge. What were the fish feeling and how were they accessing such information, is it through smell or something beyond smell? As discussed earlier, like dogs, could it be the hunter’s intent/thoughts that were being picked up by the fish? And if so could we devise a method of disguise, wherein the fish could not tune-in to your thoughts/intentions? And most importantly can you really feel the fish before you see them, is there a reverse to the method wherein a fisherman can develop and instinct that transcends his collective physical experience of fishing, tapping a realm of collective conciseness.
I think that Micky had the answers to the above questions, and even if he did, he’s unfortunately taken them to his grave. On the other hand, inspired by Mickey’s experiences and through a fair bit of experimentation and analysis, I have come up with a sort of technique that I will refer to as Intent Disguise (ID). Will hope to discuss ID in detail in the Part-2 of this article.
If you have some thoughts on the above or similar experiences, I would love to hear about them. Please comment below or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org