Island Excursion
The one that's meant to get away . . .

By Vicki Viotti
Advertiser Staff Writer

The first and only fish I ever caught was a hideous little puffer that startled me so much when it popped into sight that I shrieked and quickly tossed it back. More likely, I shrieked, and then someone else tossed it back for me. I've blanked on the details.

Paula Waymire of 'Aiea helps daughter Christine remove a fish that was just caught during a recent Family Fishing Day at Ho'omaluhia Botanical Garden. Son Jake, left, angles for the next one. This was their first outing at the fishing event; they used bread and grasshoppers for bait. Family Fishing Days 10 a.m.-2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays Ho'omaluhia Botanical Garden (park at the visitor center; follow the fish signposts to the lake) Bring poles, barbless hooks and bait. Recommended: walking shoes, insect repellent, rain gear, picnic lunch, first aid kit, tape for securing the hooks to the poles. Free 233-7323 Deborah Booker • The Honolulu Advertiser

Ho'omaluhia, for those who've never paid a visit, is a little piece of heaven in Windward O'ahu. Rolling hills, a forest mixing familiar and uncommon tropical trees, an idyllic vista of the crags and ruffles of the Ko'olau Range serving as the backdrop.

In the foreground: a lake, the functional and beautiful element that qualifies this park as a federally-funded flood-control project and creates the possibility for Family Fishing Day.

From 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. every weekend, moms and/or dads haul the keiki down for a little catch-and-release escapism.

It also meant, for me, that a requirement would be a trip to Nanko's, a mainstay among fishing emporia in Kane'ohe, for the bamboo poles fitted with floaters, sinkers and barbless hooks. There are other places to get the stuff, to be sure — heck, you could even cut your own bamboo sapling — but the lovely gentlemen at Nanko's sold me two prefab rigs and then strung up a third one for me. Less than six bucks a pop.

And we needed bait. Ack! I shuddered. Squiggly little plump bags of protoplasm I'd have to pierce with a hook? Greg Taylor, a staff artist here and a veteran of many fishing trips, gave me one of those looks.

"Those fish will eat tinfoil on a hook," he said.

What a slur against that great species of semi-edible aquatic life, the tilapia. According to the literature, tilapia are supposed to be the main denizens of Lake Ho'omaluhia, but we caught nary a one. What we snagged, time and again, were little guys called Nicaraguan cichlids.

And we did it not by lancing small, bleeding, formerly living things, but by loading up the hook with plain old bread chunks. I sighed with relief, and then loaded up the car with the poles, a pail, a hand net and a plastic bag full of crumbed, leftover whole wheat hamburger buns.

Wrong-o, said Knud Lindgard, a Kailua fisherman and volunteer who makes himself available at fishing days to newbie parents and kids. What you need is that nice, gummy white sliced bread that kids (and, apparently, fish) crave.

That's because the wheat bread is less glutenous and more difficult to affix just above the hook, Lindgard said. Also, the whiteness of Wonder Bread (or whatever brand you have) becomes a beacon to the hapless, frolicksome fish.

In fact, if you want to be really tricky, throw out one bit of bread to attract the fish. From lakeside, you see them gather and lunge at it. One more bread wad, so they let down their guard. The third one, Lindgard said, can have the hook in it.

Lindgard then showed my daughter and her friend how to close their fingers in an O around the line and then pull up the fish into their hands so they could grasp it securely and unhook the poor guy. After a little prepubescent, girlish revulsion, they complied.

Bringing some garden gloves can be helpful with this, said Olive Vanselow, the garden staffer who organizes the fishing days. Kids are more willing to touch something scaly if there's fabric intervening.

The reason that we caught so many of the cichlids, she said, is that they're aquarium fish and people have the habit of dumping out their aquaria into the lake, some of them even imagining they're doing folks a favor.

What happens is that the balance of life is thrown off, Vanselow added. One visible piece of evidence, she said, is that aquarium weed has started to take over the waterway, great reef-like clumps of it visible around the lake.

Most of the several dozen people on hand the day of our visit were budget fisherpeople like us, but some brought fancier getups. You can use a rod and reel, Vanselow said, but there's no overhead casting allowed.

"It's a safety concern," she explained. "We don't want people getting them stuck in the trees, or catching someone's head with them."

We positioned ourselves several pole lengths away from each other. Of course, that didn't stop the total amateur from hooking herself in the leg a few times anyway.

After about 90 minutes, the kids had each caught and released enough fish to avert competitive angst and were feeling tired besides. That's about the endurance limit of most school-age children, Vanselow said.

So we walked back up toward the picnic area, washed up well (there's leptospirosis contamination here) and brought out our sandwiches.

They were on whole wheat, but we've now developed a new respect for white bread.