Midway through fileting a nice mess of crappie earlier this week, my trusty filet knife made a funny little clicking noise. Then, after running at half speed for another fish or two, the steady hum suddenly went silent. It’s a pure case of “Catch 22” (a non-fishing phrase often referred to as a paradoxical situation from which an individual cannot escape because of contradictory outcomes).
That, George, basically means it’s good news and bad news.
The good news is that old filet knife has turned many a fish into fresh meat worthy of presenting to a bag of meal and some hot grease. And it’s a good thing when you’ve used your electric filet knife enough to honor it by burning it out from overwork.
Then there’s the bad news. It’s gone. Worthless. I kept it a few days and plugged it back in and hit the trigger thinking it might magically come back to life. Nope. I reached in my tackle box and pulled out an old Sharpie used to mark 10-foot increments on my jig pole line and wrote my goodbye message on the knife:
R I P !!
Lucky for me, my favorite daughter bought me a new one for Christmas this past year. I removed it from the box, inserted the blades and I was back in business in no time. In fact, I think I’ll give her the first mess of fish I cleaned with the new knife. That would be proper. And I hope this new one lasts a long time (and I catch more than 22) before it bites the dust.