Fishing in Time

I’ve been thinking about watches lately.

Back in college, I wore one for a year or two. A knockoff model from a fashionable brand, it quickly failed to tell time accurately. I still continued to wear it for a while because I enjoyed its aesthetic. But for the better part of the next decade, my wrist went unadorned. Around Christmas time, my interest in watches was reignited. What started as a desire to give myself fewer reasons to check my phone, took on a new path when I was back in Wisconsin for the holidays.

For nearly two decades, my good friend, Dave Resop, has worn a special watch. A fishing watch. The Casio Pathfinder 2632 model to be exact. If my memory serves me right, it was a Christmas gift from his late wife back around 2007.

Growing up, the watch contained a sort of magical aura and reports of it were given by Dave whenever we talked, either in person or over the phone. These reports were always dictated in the same manner, “and I’ve got (insert number) fish in the scope right now.” It was used as both a justification to go fishing (“There’s four fish in the scope, time to go!”) and as a means of coping after a fruitless outing (“Well, the watch did say there were zero fish in the scope…”)

It wasn’t until recently that I would learn the working theory behind the watch. The user sets it up by plugging in their latitude and longitude, known as their home site. Then, calculating the moon’s position relative to the home site position, it assigns a value of predicted fish activity in real time. On any given month, the most predictable feeding action occurs during a new moon or a full moon. The watch generally maxes out on the fish in its scope (4 fish icons) during these phases. On a daily basis, the best fishing is expected to occur on the upper transit (when the moon’s position is directly above your home site) and the lower transit (12 hours after the upper transit, the moon is now directly below your home site), usually ranging from 1 to 3 fish icons. The watch is programmed with site specific fishing data until the year 2039. After that, it will just tell the time.

Every day, the watch allows you to cycle through the predicted best fishing times and see how many fish will be in the scope during them. I like to imagine Dave seated at the breakfast table each morning, watching the times scroll past and planning his day accordingly. There’s a Fish Memo button that logs the time, date, and moon phase when pressed; a simplified log that can be used to look back on previous catches. One can even set it to Fish Alarm mode where the watch will vibrate when it hits the optimal fishing time for the day. A bit gimmicky? Sure. Cool as all hell? You bet. Listen, when the fishing watch tells you that it’s time to go fishing…you go fishing.

I wanted to experience the same thrill of knowing how many fish were in the scope while I daydreamed about being on the water. I wanted to feel the vibrating buzz of an oncoming feeding frenzy. I wanted a fishing watch of my own.

The search for a fishing watch sent me down a predictable rabbit hole, one that I welcomed. It was tempting to go out and find an old Casio 2632 on eBay, just like Dave’s. But I wanted to know what else was out there. From my research, I learned that the Japanese watch maker, Casio, has been developing various fishing watch models since the late 1980s. The first fishing watch that they brought to market may very well have been their most ambitious, the FT-100W. In addition to displaying the current moon phase, it tracked the local tide pattern on a horizontal undulating wave, broken down into a number of short segments. Your current position in time on the tide chart was indicated with a shaded segment and the best fishing times of the day showed a marlin jumping over them. Along the bottom border of the case was featured the incredible phrase, “Fish In Time”. Unfortunately, the few working ones that remain fetch hundreds of dollars from online sellers.

I looked at the newer Casio models like the WS1200H and AQW-101 but found them to be lacking the same soul and quirky feature sets of the 2632. Watches with internet or Bluetooth connectivity were instantly ruled out, it’s offline fish tech or nothing. I kept looking. Then one day in January, I came across a beauty of a timepiece while scouring eBay; a Casio PRS-400, likely produced around 2003. This watch features nearly the same case design as the 2632 but includes some blue and orange accenting. Notably on the Fish Memo button, the only colorful button on the entire piece. It’s as if the watch designer was screaming “DON’T FORGET TO LOG YOUR CATCHES!” The band is also resin as opposed to the nylon and leather hybrid strap on the 2632. It was in near mint condition and at a great price. I bought it and have been wearing it daily for the past few months. It’s an absolute joy to wear. I love that it captures the features and essence of Dave’s nostalgic watch while still being distinctly its own.

The concept of fishing in time is an interesting one to ponder. What does it mean to live a lifestyle in this cadence? For most people, fishing occurs whenever they can afford the time and access to do so. Plans are made days, weeks, even months in advance. Rarely are we allowed the spontaneity to go whenever the fishing is good, however that metric is deemed. But for the select few among us that find themselves within a short cast from the nearest body of water at all times, either by design or circumstance, one could truly live a life dictated by the phases of the moon. They could activate the Fish Alarm on their wristwatch, grab their rigged up rod when it goes off, and walk down to the water to see for themselves. By and large, this is the life that Dave has lived for the past few decades.

Over a letter, I asked him about his fishing watch; when he remembers getting it and any memories associated with it. I shared some of my own memories that I had of it. He didn’t necessarily answer those questions, but he did ask me if I would like to have it. He had recently taken its worn leather strap off for the last time in exchange for a watch with a 911 call safety feature. I happily took him up on his offer. I haven’t worn the watch yet, it somehow doesn’t feel right to. It bears a patina that I didn’t earn. Perhaps I cherish those memories held therein too much to risk damaging it. It sits proudly displayed on my fly tying desk, the home location set to what I can only assume are the coordinates to his river home in central Wisconsin (the button to access those coordinates no longer functions). I smile when I see that the fish are biting on the river. Someday, when the right moment calls for it, I will slip that watch on and feel the aura of a man who knows what it means to fish in time.

Dave ended his letter with a simple confirmation.

“It still works. It still lies.”