The Diddle Pole
I looked for it the other day, even though the August
temperature was pushing 90 degrees. It
was where it should be – in a bucket with other ice fishing gear, appropriately
shoved in a far corner of the basement, given this is hardly the season for its
use. I went over anyway and picked it
up. It is a homemade, or maybe more
appropriately, a home-assembled ice fishing rod.
The handle is a section sawed off of a broken barn
broom handle. The white paint has held
up 42 years now. The rod itself is
actually the tip section of an old summertime fiberglass spincast rod that had
already seen its better days long before it was given second life as an ice
fishing pole. A just-adequate hole had
been drilled into the section of broom handle and the butt end of the
fiberglass had been forced into the hole.
No glue was needed as the fit was very snug. It has held firmly all these years. The “reel” is the only authentic ice fishing
gear on the rig – a simple plastic spool that really just holds about 20 yards
of line. There is a little nob handle. The reel is held in place by a single wood
screw.
The ice fishing rod is a simple design for simple
fishing. You could call it a jig pole
but my brother-in-law Joel, who made it for me, called it a “diddle” pole. The pole worked best when ice fishing fairly
shallow water. When the bobber went
down, telegraphing a bite, you just lifted your rod hand high in the air and
unceremoniously pulled a hopefully plump perch or bluegill out of the water and
onto the ice.
I know that my diddle pole is 42 years old because
Joel made it for me the first Christmas after I married Michelle and Joel
became my brother-in-law. My wife used
to correct me because Joel was married to her sister, so those who follow the
technical rules I guess would say that Joel was her brother-in-law. I didn’t know (and still don’t understand) what
technically that made of my relation to Joel, but I like to keep things simple,
like diddle poles and relationships, so I have always claimed Joel as my
brother-in-law too. As far as I know, he
never had a problem with it.
I know that it was the first Christmas of our marriage
because when Joel heard that I like to hunt and fish he began inviting me on
his extended family excursions right away.
Joel and his family were dairy farmers.
That meant that winter, with its no field work nature, was the easiest
time for them to get some serious fishing done.
So, when the lake ice took hold already in early December that winter
Joel invited me to tag along on an ice fishing trip. I had only fished through the ice a time or
two previously, so I had to borrow a pole from Joel. Shortly afterward Joel presented me with my
very own diddle pole as a Christmas present.
I am sure that some may have looked at it and thought
that it was a pretty cheap Christmas present – assembled as it was with cast
off parts rescued from the landfill, a 69-cent plastic reel and a couple of
turns of monofilament line. I recognized
right away, however, that it was something that Joel had put some time and effort
into making. Even more than that, it was
one of those wordless conversations between two men that speak clearly to their
hearts. The rod was invitation. The rod meant that I was welcome. The rod
also proved very effective. I have
caught literally hundreds of panfish on that rod through the years. I have other, more sophisticated ice fishing
gear now, but I always bring the diddle pole along for good luck.
I looked for the rod the other day because it was the
day that Joel passed away. As I held it,
he and I had another of those wordless conversations.
His Peace,
Deacon Dan
(Originally published 8/22 on the Quad Parish of Green Bay website)
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