I recently read an article about the “hard” times that are befalling Atlantic City – that former gambling centre in New Jersey that at one time tried to compete against Las Vegas. There are still some casinos operating and they are putting on a brave face against the odds that the entire gambling scenario will drag the city into ruin. Not only are the casinos facing a serious drop in customers but many of the service industries that tied their hopes to the gambling business are closing or cutting back. Investors keep trying, however it sounds like that city is going to have to find another raison d'être. Hurricane Sandy was the proverbial straw for Atlantic City.
What really caught my interest in the story was a section about people who were subsisting on social services (or whatever they call it in NJ) who were trying to supplement their meagre food supply by fishing for pigeons. Yes, with fishing rods.
Now I admit that I am not a big fan of rock doves or the common pigeons that we see on the streets and window ledges of North Bay or any city south of the Arctic Circle. I have not knowingly ever eaten a pigeon although I can see where they might be plump enough to make a decent fricassee or a stew – maybe a few carrots, a potato, an onion or two with a good dash of oregano and basil to spice it up. Sort of like Aunt Martha does her ruffed grouse.
As an angler, the whole concept of fishing for pigeons is rather intriguing. I mean to say, casting a light monofilament line from a second or third storey window could present some challenges. One does not want to land the hook and bait on some passerby’s hat, nor get the line fouled in the hydro electric wires.
Retrieving a pigeon on a four-pound test line would also present some challenges: the pigeon, being able to fly, would likely not readily be reeled straight to the cooking pot; nor would it be deterred by obstacles such as kids on passing bicycles, or delivery trucks bringing goods from Amazon. I expect the surprised bird would act much like a small mouth bass, not like a walleye that barely resists coming to the boat. Like a bass, the rock dove would scoot around the infrastructure (fisher person talk) utility poles, under cars and into the flower (weed) beds.
Instead of being bothered by perch and crappies, one would have to contend with seagulls and crows but the serious pigeon fisher would soon find ways to catch and release those not-so-tasty species. No one wants to eat crow. No doubt the City officials would enact a license, set catch limits and impose slot sizes but until they do, the normal sport fishing licence should apply.
I suppose in a world where humans eat everything, fishing for pigeons ought not to have surprised me. Yet in a world where people have money to throw away at the casinos in Atlantic City it seems a shame that others must fish for pigeons. Maybe it is time for another donation to our food bank. I don’t want anyone living here to need to fish for our rock doves.
