The Fish Whisperer
What if all the fish in Door County stopped biting? That’s not hard to imagine for those of us who spend a lot of time on the water. The bite gets slow at times. However, I’m talking about the total collapse of the bite. No salmon and trout in the lake, no bass or walleye in the bay, no bluegills on Kangaroo Lake. The perch and pike are no-shows. Even the gobys are tight lipped. And they show no sign of ever biting again. The tourist economy of Door County is fairly diverse so it would probably survive in some form. Now envision the small northern Wisconsin town of Shewauga where the entire economy is dependent on people from the big cities coming to their town to catch fish. No fish, no anglers, no economy. Disaster!
This is the premise of a new play presented by Northern Sky Theater located in, ironically, Fish Creek. I attended a performance of The Fish Whisperer last night along with my wife Pam, her sister Sharon and Karen, a mutual friend. Of course, I was irresistibly by drawn to the play by the fishy title. Northern Sky has a history of producing fish themed works, all original plays drawing on Wisconsin culture and heritage. I had previously attended performances of The Fisherman’s Daughters, Muskie Love and the iconic Guys on Ice, currently playing at the Northern Sky’s new indoor Gould Theatre. The Fish Whisperer was performed at Northern Sky’s outdoor theatre located in Peninsula State Park. It was a balmy summer evening with gusty winds blowing, making the lake unfishable. The perfect night to attend a play.
As I took my seat in the theatre bowl, I took notice of the sparse set design. Scattered about the stage were artifacts of Wisconsin outdoor life; fishing rods (aka “poles”), a huge propane grill and some meticulously stacked stones, a ubiquitous feature in northern Wisconsin. Along the back wall were a number of colorful paintings, mostly fishing-themed still lifes. Among these were the cliché flyrod alongside a wicker creel and one of a beat-up fedora festooned with fishing lures. By the way, what is it with sharp hooks prickling from a hat like a deranged porcupine? I have never seen a serious angler wear such a thing. It would be incredibly dangerous for the wearer and a very inefficient method of storing lures. I prefer a multi-pocketed tackle box, thank you very much. The only time I have seen these hats is in movies and plays, or paintings, in an attempt to appear piscatorial. I digress. My favorite among the paintings was one showing a single barbed hook with the remnants of a worm drooping from it. Simple and stark. I thought such a piece of art would be a wonderful addition to the walls of our home. Pam disagreed.
The play opened with the ensemble cast (sans “The Fish Whisperer”) poignantly lamenting their plight in the musical number “They Ain’t Biting”, during which we discover that all the tourists have canceled their vacation reservations in Shewauga. The town folk include the mayor (Jeff Herbst), his daughter (Jamie Mercado), the local DNR warden (Doc Heide), the tourism director (Kelly Doherty) and a married couple who run the local B&B (Doug Clemons and James Carrington). All are chagrined and confused by the inexplicable behavior of the local fish. Just when things seem hopeless, The Fish Whisperer appears seemingly out of nowhere in the form of Hannah Waters (Lachrisa Grandberry). Waters informs the townsfolk that through a combination of ecological science and Celtic mysticism she can get the fish to bite again for the tidy sum of $10,000. All are initially skeptical, particularly the mayor, still grieving from the recent loss of his beloved wife. Hannah wins them over, save for the mayor, with a rousing song and dance “Bring Those Fishes Back”. Ms Grandberry’s booming, melodic voice was a highlight of the evening. In a series of delightful and spiritly performed musical numbers, we learn of the off and on romantic entanglement between the DNR warden and the tourism director, the domestic bliss or lack of between the B&B owners and of the daughter’s struggles with the decision to leave her grieving father to start her college career. At the core of the play is the mayor attempting to deal with the death of his wife who loved to fish, a joy they shared. The mayor has not been able bring himself to fish since the day his wife came to her end out on the lake. He and his daughter become convinced that if he can only recapture his passion for fishing, this will bring back the fish to Shewauga and foil the plans of Hannah Waters who they consider a charlatan. The plot is reminiscent of that of The Rainmaker, only with music and a lot more fun. More like The Music Man.
Suffice it to say all ends well and the play comes to a rousing crescendo with the performance of “The Fish Dance” by the entire cast. This is a dance step that any serious angler should master as it is a sure-fire way to “Bring Those Fishes Back” not to mention thoroughly embarrass any anglers who are unfortunate enough to be fishing with you. There were many memorable lines in the play including “Tie, bait, cast, wait!” delivered by the ensemble in a futile attempt to catch a fish. I learned that I had to become “One with the fish” and to “Reconnect with my inner fish”. The cast members spent considerable thought trying to determine which fish they were. Like the Native American concept of the Sprit Animal, the fish chooses you. In my younger years, I had always seen myself as an anadromous salmonid such as a Chinook Salmon, living a short, exciting life ending in the climactic orgy of spawning. Now it seems I have been chosen by a Lake Sturgeon, moving slowly, sucking food and living forever.
I do have quibbles with a few of the technical fishing related decisions made by the playwright Scott Guy or the director Molly Rhode in producing the play. I am particularly anal when it comes to the depiction of fishing in movies and theatrical productions. For example, in the classic “Grumpy Old Men”, one of my very favorite movies of all time, I was absolutely appalled when Jack Lemon stopped by the local bait shop to pick up “worms” for ice fishing and was presented with a container of nightcrawlers. NOBODY in Minnesota uses nightcrawlers to fish in the winter! Waxies, spikes or even meal worms, but never nightcrawlers. I did catch several such faux paus in The Fish Whisperer. First, what’s with all the closed faced spinning reels? I have not used such a reel since my Zebco 202 when I was ten-years old. No serious angler I know uses a closed faced reel. Perhaps this is why they couldn’t catch fish. I am guessing the Stage Manager made this call because they were easier for the actors to handle. In a scene with the mayor and his daughter, they are considering the factors that need to be weighed when trying to “read the water”. One of those they mention is tides. Tides, in Wisconsin? Not a serious consideration. Maybe in Florida or the Bay of Fundy, but not on a lake in northern Wisconsin. Finally, in the same scene, the writer makes his most serious fishing blunder. With a spindly cane pole in hand, the mayor ponders which lure he should use. He considers casting a “Suick or a Mepps”. The thought of casting a Suick, a very large lure intended to attract the vicious strike of a Muskellunge, with a flimsy cane pole is laughable. Perhaps a #1 Aglia Mepps French spinner, but not a Suick.
Such trivial equivocations aside, I thoroughly enjoyed this wonderful performance of The Fish Whisperer and I encourage all anglers and the angler-curious to see this play before this season’s run ends August 25th. I hope this play returns to Northern Door in future seasons and becomes a staple among the many plays this terrific company has brought to Door County. I hope to witness The Fish Dance enough times to perfect the choreography. Then, next time I am out on the big lake and have not had a hit all night, I will mount myself on the transom of the boat. I will swish my gills, wriggle my fins and wave my tail all in an effort to “Bring Those Fishes Back”.
So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish, Bruce
Questions or comments to bsmith733@gmail.com