- Joined
- Mar 11, 2001
- Messages
- 70,011
- Reaction score
- 1,003
HOW BIG FISH GROW OVER TIME -- Jim Matthews column-ons 24apr02
Time's enlarging lenses.
Photographs may or may not be a good thing when settling disputes about the size of fish or game taken at some point in the past.
Most anglers are bright enough not to actually lay a fish on a yardstick unless the beast is being considered for some world record, in which case the fish was big enough to measure up to any memory anyway.
Anglers tend to get put up in rafters or hammered to gates or otherwise lost, and even those that are put atop mounted game heads continue to shrink over time. This is a proven fact. Trophies measured for Boone & Crockett records remeasured 25 years later have always lost four to five inches in gross score or more. Diameters of antlers contract, widths shrink. Those that were never scored shrink a whole lot more than those that were scored. At least that's how I remember it.
The point is that photographs don't really help much in solving disputes about fish caught in the past or game that was taken. We all know the tricks used to make things look a lot bigger and those blunders when things appear smaller in photos. Photos are no better than memories.
This whole question came up when I pulled from under the bed a mounted photograph of a big brown trout I had caught from Crowley Lake at the mouth of the Owens River many years ago. The fish looked huge. Of course, I remembered that it was huge, but the photo made me rethink the whole deal. A great photo, the brown looked to be seven or eight pounds. My brother-in-law, R.G., who actually snapped the photo, didn't remember it that big. Maybe five pounds. Probably not even that big. He reminded me that it was only 23-inches long.
My memory has it a lot bigger than that. I was cradling it in my arms like a baby it was so big. We took a couple of photos and released it so it would spawn in the Owens River that fall. It was huge.
Since I'm a pack rat of sorts, I went back and dug up a notebook that I was keeping back in those days and found both my notes and a story I had written about that big brown trout. R.G. was right. The fish was just 23-inches long and we guessed that it weighed about 4 1/2 to five pounds at the time. My notes showed that I'd caught a 19-inch brown from the East Walker a couple of years earlier and it didn't even weigh three pounds. I think I tell people that fish was a four-pounder when I show the photos. It looks that big.
The last few days I have been wondering about the incredible growth of fish and game that seems to take place over time -- how catches get bigger, stringers heavier, game more plentiful. It has always been attributed to hunters and anglers just being natural-born liars who want to exaggerate their skills, and I'm sure there's a fair amount of that going on. But you can identify the guy who's going to do that right off the bat because he'll show you a photo of a 14-inch trout held out at arm's length toward the camera and call it a three-pounder with a straight face. He's the same guy who always goes into a stall to pee rather than take his place at the urinal with the other guys.
For the rest of us, especially those who pride themselves on being credible reporters when telling fishing and hunting stories, I have come up with a plausible -- even probable -- explanation how this happens.
Follow me here: Most of us began our hunting and fishing careers when we were mere kids, tagging along with dads and moms, uncles and aunts, or gruff old family friends on our early trips. When you are little, your palms might only be 2 1/2-inches across and you might only be four-feet tall. A six-inch bluegill or nine-inch trout is going to take both hands to hold. A stack of five or six doves will seem immense, the birds huge. It's a matter of proportions. Those early experiences with game and fish are about the only memories I have of my youth. (Why would you want to remember getting beaten up by your cousins?) I remember the bluegill bigger the number of quail as more because proportionally they were. So that enlargement over time continues even when there is no more proportional difference.
As a Little League coach, we hear a lot about teaching kids "muscle memory" so they throw the ball and swing the bat correctly without having to think about it. They practice it a lot and get the muscle memory of doing it correctly down. Then they bat .450, sign the big contract, and play for 20 years in the majors. All that thanks to muscle memory.
The brain is a muscle, too. For the years I was growing up into a full-size adult, I handled a lot of fish and game. They might have been measured and weighed, but in memory, with each growing spurt, they were bigger in my memory than the scale or tape measure said. You related the game to your own size. It was indeed bigger back then. Proportionally. So to the brain was trained in our youth that things just naturally assume larger proportions over time. That continues even when the proportional difference doesn't exist. It continues because of muscle memory.
Women misjudge and unintentionally lie about the size of their game and fish for another reason, too, but this is a family newspaper.
So now you know why fishermen and hunters exaggerate the size of their fish and game. It's a completely normal and natural thing that has been developing since we were children. Just something to remember this trout opener.
Time's enlarging lenses.
Photographs may or may not be a good thing when settling disputes about the size of fish or game taken at some point in the past.
Most anglers are bright enough not to actually lay a fish on a yardstick unless the beast is being considered for some world record, in which case the fish was big enough to measure up to any memory anyway.
Anglers tend to get put up in rafters or hammered to gates or otherwise lost, and even those that are put atop mounted game heads continue to shrink over time. This is a proven fact. Trophies measured for Boone & Crockett records remeasured 25 years later have always lost four to five inches in gross score or more. Diameters of antlers contract, widths shrink. Those that were never scored shrink a whole lot more than those that were scored. At least that's how I remember it.
The point is that photographs don't really help much in solving disputes about fish caught in the past or game that was taken. We all know the tricks used to make things look a lot bigger and those blunders when things appear smaller in photos. Photos are no better than memories.
This whole question came up when I pulled from under the bed a mounted photograph of a big brown trout I had caught from Crowley Lake at the mouth of the Owens River many years ago. The fish looked huge. Of course, I remembered that it was huge, but the photo made me rethink the whole deal. A great photo, the brown looked to be seven or eight pounds. My brother-in-law, R.G., who actually snapped the photo, didn't remember it that big. Maybe five pounds. Probably not even that big. He reminded me that it was only 23-inches long.
My memory has it a lot bigger than that. I was cradling it in my arms like a baby it was so big. We took a couple of photos and released it so it would spawn in the Owens River that fall. It was huge.
Since I'm a pack rat of sorts, I went back and dug up a notebook that I was keeping back in those days and found both my notes and a story I had written about that big brown trout. R.G. was right. The fish was just 23-inches long and we guessed that it weighed about 4 1/2 to five pounds at the time. My notes showed that I'd caught a 19-inch brown from the East Walker a couple of years earlier and it didn't even weigh three pounds. I think I tell people that fish was a four-pounder when I show the photos. It looks that big.
The last few days I have been wondering about the incredible growth of fish and game that seems to take place over time -- how catches get bigger, stringers heavier, game more plentiful. It has always been attributed to hunters and anglers just being natural-born liars who want to exaggerate their skills, and I'm sure there's a fair amount of that going on. But you can identify the guy who's going to do that right off the bat because he'll show you a photo of a 14-inch trout held out at arm's length toward the camera and call it a three-pounder with a straight face. He's the same guy who always goes into a stall to pee rather than take his place at the urinal with the other guys.
For the rest of us, especially those who pride themselves on being credible reporters when telling fishing and hunting stories, I have come up with a plausible -- even probable -- explanation how this happens.
Follow me here: Most of us began our hunting and fishing careers when we were mere kids, tagging along with dads and moms, uncles and aunts, or gruff old family friends on our early trips. When you are little, your palms might only be 2 1/2-inches across and you might only be four-feet tall. A six-inch bluegill or nine-inch trout is going to take both hands to hold. A stack of five or six doves will seem immense, the birds huge. It's a matter of proportions. Those early experiences with game and fish are about the only memories I have of my youth. (Why would you want to remember getting beaten up by your cousins?) I remember the bluegill bigger the number of quail as more because proportionally they were. So that enlargement over time continues even when there is no more proportional difference.
As a Little League coach, we hear a lot about teaching kids "muscle memory" so they throw the ball and swing the bat correctly without having to think about it. They practice it a lot and get the muscle memory of doing it correctly down. Then they bat .450, sign the big contract, and play for 20 years in the majors. All that thanks to muscle memory.
The brain is a muscle, too. For the years I was growing up into a full-size adult, I handled a lot of fish and game. They might have been measured and weighed, but in memory, with each growing spurt, they were bigger in my memory than the scale or tape measure said. You related the game to your own size. It was indeed bigger back then. Proportionally. So to the brain was trained in our youth that things just naturally assume larger proportions over time. That continues even when the proportional difference doesn't exist. It continues because of muscle memory.
Women misjudge and unintentionally lie about the size of their game and fish for another reason, too, but this is a family newspaper.
So now you know why fishermen and hunters exaggerate the size of their fish and game. It's a completely normal and natural thing that has been developing since we were children. Just something to remember this trout opener.
