For every fish caught, there's a photo waiting to be taken

By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Staff Writer

I've wondered about them for years. I've seen them just about everywhere, from neighbors' refrigerators to friends' wallets to store windows, high school yearbooks, even Christmas cards. I've marveled at the variety and scope and the sheer volume. Finally, I got up the nerve to ask:

What is it about those fish pictures?

You know the ones. Barry on the rocks with an uhu. Darryl by the boat with a mahi. Cherisse in the back yard with her menpachi.

The anglers are usually smiling. (The fish are usually not.)

Sometimes there isn't even a human in the photo, just the catch arranged in rows on the grass, perhaps a

beer can included for size comparison.

But most of the shots are of just one person, one fish, the victor and the vanquished.

A fine collection of fish photography resides on the counter at McCully Bicycle. The photo album had to be redone recently. The old one was dog-eared by the many hands that had turned the pages and falling apart from being overstuffed with snapshots. Years ago, many of the photos graced the walls of the fishing supplies department. Customers would come in with their photos (framed and everything) to be put on the wall.

After a while, there were more pictures than there was wall space.

And of course, each photo came with a story.

"They come in here and talk for hours," says Carl Hamamoto, who stands behind the counter.

Paging through the album, you stop to recognize people you know, places you've been, fish you can hardly believe.

I notice there are different poses. You have the standing one-hand tail grip, the two-hand horizontal belly grip, the one-fish in each hand gill-grip, and the occasional kneeling pose with the fish on the ground.

I ask if the different poses denote anything. I get blank looks all around. Guess not.

There are people of all ages, from grandparents to little kids. There are men and women, families and friends. The photos are

taken in the water, on boats, on the sand, at the harbor, by the truck, in back yards, garages, kitchens, even a few in very nicely appointed living rooms. Some are from the Neighbor Islands or from other parts of the Pacific. Some are from trips to Alaska. Every third photo has a cooler somewhere in the background.

And the faces smiling out from the pages of the album look happy and relaxed and proud.

And then it hits me, the meat of the question that's been bugging me: In a culture that so eschews bragging, what is it about passing around photos of yourself and your big catch, displaying your success like that in public?

Again, I get the look, the look that tells me I really don't know this world.

Russell Endo, McCully Bicycle's manager, puts it this way:

It's not bragging. It's showing proof.

Carl nods. That's how you know the fish stories are for real.

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Her e-mail address is lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.