Finding a Little Solace in the Time Spent Waiting for Fish

When I stand by the sea at night, the words of the day feel a little distant.

Work schedules, unreplied messages, plans for tomorrow—these things don't disappear entirely. But while I am looking at the water in front of me, their voices grow a little quieter.

All I can hear is the sound of the wind, the waves hitting the quay, and the faint sound of the fishing line sliding through the rod guides. There isn't much to see, either. Just the bright surface of the water under the streetlamp and the darkness spreading beyond it. Occasionally, something breaks the surface, but I cannot immediately tell if it is a small fish, a predator, or just a ripple.

Night fishing offers little information.

That is precisely why people stop looking at unnecessary things. The wind, the tide, the light, the presence of fish. There are few factors to judge by, but that scarcity actually brings my attention back to the present moment.

To introduce myself briefly, I usually work with research on fish and the ocean, writing articles that bridge scientific knowledge with the intuition of anglers.

Why do fish react to certain movements? Why do they gather under the light? Why is it that the longer we go without a catch, the more we think about the next cast?

I often write about such topics, but this time I would like to shift my perspective slightly. While this is a story about fish, it is also a story about people. It is about why night fishing brings a little peace to the mind.

Night fishing offers little information

In daytime fishing, there is much to see.

The color of the water, schools of small fish, seabirds flying, places where the tide changes, shadows along the shore. Of course, seeing more doesn't mean it's easier. Still, there are many factors to judge by at the water's edge during the day.

The night is different. There is less to see. So, the angler pieces together the little information available.

The light and shadow of the streetlamp. The direction of the wind. The flow of the tide. Small ripples on the water. The slight weight transmitted through the fishing line. In the time when I don't know if there are fish or not, I form a hypothesis, miss, and then adjust it just a little.

Perhaps this 'scarcity' is what creates the tranquility of night fishing.

During the day, we live amidst too much information. Notifications, schedules, evaluations, deadlines, the words of others. Our attention is always being pulled outward, little by little.

At the water's edge at night, that focus narrows for a moment.

The water surface in front of me. The wind blowing right now. The next cast.

There are moments when that is all there is.

The water's edge and fishing might just be ways to bring our attention back.

I will talk a little bit about science from here on.

There is no research that directly proves that night fishing itself "heals people." Night fishing is not a medical treatment, nor is it a recovery method that works for everyone.

Even so, as we look at related research, several reasons emerge as to why night fishing can make people feel a little calmer.

For example, surveys of people who enjoy fishing on a regular basis often report lower stress levels and higher subjective feelings of well-being compared to those who do not (Pita et al., 2022; Wilson et al., 2023). Of course, there is also the possibility that people go fishing because they are already feeling well, so we cannot say solely from this that "fishing creates health."

However, it is certain that fishing is not just a way to kill time, but a period spent by the water, moving the body lightly, and focusing attention on a single thing.

The potential for waterfronts and natural environments to restore attention has also been studied. Research that organizes the relationship between exposure to natural environments and attention restoration (Ohly et al., 2016), as well as studies analyzing the benefits that waterfront spaces—so-called "blue spaces"—such as oceans and rivers provide to the mind and body (White et al., 2020), have reported multiple pathways, such as observing, moving, and connecting with nature.

In night fishing, the effect of the waterfront is compounded by a "scarcity of information."

Because there is little to see, it is difficult for consciousness to scatter. While trying to achieve something, all you can do is one cast at a time. Reel in. Stop. Watch for a reaction. Change things slightly.

Within this simple repetition, attention returns.

Fish do not see everything either

What makes night fishing interesting is that not only humans, but also the fish themselves are making decisions based on limited information.

Fish at night are not completely unable to see. While it varies by species and environment, they combine various senses such as light, shadows, vibrations, water currents, and scent.

Particularly interesting is the sensory organ called the "lateral line" that runs along the side of a fish's body. It is said that they can detect changes in water movement and flow, allowing them to read small ripples on the water surface or the presence of something passing nearby even at night (Mogdans, 2019). Fish at night do not just lose their reliance on sight; they are picking up the movement of the water itself as information.

A small lure passes under a streetlamp. It stops at the edge of the light. It is pushed slightly by the tide. Whether the fish saw it, felt it, or just happened to be nearby, we cannot know.

However, in that uncertainty, the angler thinks.

Maybe that last cast was a little too fast. Maybe I should have passed it through the darker side a bit more. Let me try extending the pause time by just one second.

I believe fishing is a game where the predictions of human and fish intersect for just a moment.

The time spent waiting for that intersection becomes a little more intense at night.

There is meaning even in the time when you don't catch anything.

I find that I surprisingly remember the nights when I didn't catch anything.

The memories of the days I caught big fish certainly remain. But just as much, the nights when nothing happened also stay with me. The fact that the wind was weak. The fact that small fish were gathering under the streetlights. The fact that after casting many times with no response, I reeled in the very last cast a little more carefully.

Since I didn't catch anything, there was no result to show for it.

Yet, strangely, there are times when I don't feel bad on the way home.

Perhaps that is because, apart from the catch, my attention has returned to myself.

The time spent not catching fish is not just a blank space. It is a time when observation becomes more detailed. Changing lures. Changing the angle of the cast. Changing the pause time. Passing through the outside of the light rather than the inside. Slowing down the reeling speed slightly.

That series of small adjustments is different from processing tasks during the day.

It is not to be evaluated by someone else. It is not to increase efficiency. It is an adjustment to simply align, little by little, with the water surface in front of me.

There are times when I am saved by that time.

To avoid romanticizing the night too much

That said, I don't think it's right to praise night fishing too highly either.

Night fishing is not a universal recovery method. If you cut back on sleep too much, your body and mind will feel heavy the next day. Even for those who love the night, it is not possible to be completely free from the time of society.

There is research showing that the discrepancy between an individual's internal body rhythm (chronotype), such as being a morning or night person, and social time—this is called "social jetlag"—is related to cognition and mood (Taillard et al., 2021; Wittmann et al., 2006). Even for those who find it easier to breathe at night, if they ruin their plans for the next morning, it becomes a debt rather than a recovery.

Therefore, I cannot simply recommend night fishing as something "good for the heart."

What is important is that it stays within a range that does not ruin the next day. Being able to return home safely. Being able to sleep. Not leaving your own physical condition behind.

Only on nights when those conditions are met does night fishing become a slightly gentle time.

Even on nights when no fish are caught, there is something that returns. It is your own attention, your own time, and your own breath.

I cannot say for sure that night fishing saves people.

But at the very least, there are nights that make a noisy day feel a little quieter.

Stand by the water. Look into the darkness. Read the wind. Cast your lure along the edge of the light. If there is no reaction, change things up a little. Cast again.

In that simple repetition, the attention that was scattered throughout the day gradually returns to what is right in front of me.

It is a joy to catch a fish.

But even on nights when I don't catch anything, there is something that returns to me.

It is my attention, my time, and my own breath.

Moving forward, I would like to continue thinking about fishing not just as a story of catch results, but as a scene where fish behavior, the waterside environment, and human senses intersect.

I believe that night fishing is the time that shows us that intersection most quietly.

References

• Ohly, H., White, M. P., Wheeler, B. W., et al. (2016). Attention Restoration Theory: A systematic review of the attention restoration potential of exposure to natural environments. Journal of Toxicology and Environmental Health, Part B. https://doi.org/10.1080/10937404.2016.1196155

• Pita, P., Gribble, M. O., Antelo, M., et al. (2022). Recreational fishing, health and well-being: findings from a cross-sectional survey. Ecosystems and People, 18(1), 530-546. https://doi.org/10.1080/26395916.2022.2112291

• Taillard, J., Sagaspe, P., Philip, P., & Bioulac, S. (2021). Sleep timing, chronotype and social jetlag: Impact on cognitive abilities and psychiatric disorders. Biochemical Pharmacology, 191, 114438.

• White, M. P., Elliott, L. R., Gascon, M., Roberts, B., & Fleming, L. E. (2020). Blue space, health and well-being: A narrative overview and synthesis of potential benefits. Environmental Research, 191, 110169. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.envres.2020.110169

• Wilson, J. J., Trott, M., Tully, M. A., et al. (2023). Mental health and recreational angling in UK adult males: A cross-sectional study. Epidemiologia, 4(3), 298-308. https://doi.org/10.3390/epidemiologia4030030

• Wittmann, M., Dinich, J., Merrow, M., & Roenneberg, T. (2006). Social jetlag: Misalignment of biological and social time. Chronobiology International, 23(1-2), 497-509. https://doi.org/10.1080/07420520500545979

• Mogdans, J. (2019). Sensory ecology of the fish lateral-line system: Morphological and physiological adaptations for the perception of hydrodynamic stimuli. Journal of Fish Biology. https://doi.org/10.1111/jfb.13966