Effect

If you throw a stone in the pond does it always cause ripples? Not during ice fishing season. There is an unwritten rule with us that what happens on the ice stays on the ice, except if you bring fish home, then you just plain lie about what you did. There’s a huddle of us (if Larks can be an exaltation we can be a huddle) any given day on the pond, sharing stories and thoughts on life and generally solving all the world’s problems. We catch fish as a by-product of our interactions, not as an end goal. The effect of the “code of the White Eskimo” is that we have grown together as a group. The result of this cloistering is that we have learned about things ranging from Erectile Dysfunction to cooking tips, we have indirectly influenced the political landscape in our region through our discussions and actions, and we have directly contributed the wellness of some community members. I like to think of us as the good part of the Masons combined with the Three Stooges.
Because we can’t talk about what goes on (outside a few vague references) to others off the pond, we are free to discuss our deepest secrets with each other. This freedom is sometimes uncomfortable, as you might expect a group of males to talk mostly about sex, and you’re right there, just not the way you think. R. had a prostectomy a few years back, so we share his joy when he tells us about his occasional successful efforts. L.1 has high blood pressure, and the medication that keeps him alive also makes him wish he were dead sometimes, so we all checked the computer under secrecy of darkness when the wife was out of town and made damn sure we erased our tracks. He got his doctor to change his meds and is happier now. L.2 is a man’s man, and would never admit to something as sissified as cooking, but we share recipes on the ice that he’ll probably use when he’s alone. Oh, sure, we also talk about cars, guns, movies and all the other guy stuff, but it’s different, almost sacred when you can talk about things that actually matter.
There’s always an upcoming election in one of our towns, or a town meeting to decide if so-and-so should be allowed to build a garage. The effect of our closeness is that we become above the law in our minds. We are the deciders. We don’t mudsling or lie, but all of us are or were involved in local politics, and some of our group still have a little sway in the warmer confines of a town office. This is a fairly central pond in our county, and certainly not the only one we fish, so opinions can be spread to other ponds for the more important issues as we see fit, or we don’t have a consensus we agree to leave it to die on the ice. It stands to reason we can be accused of fixing the vote, but we really are just saving other fishermen the trouble of thinking about such things so they can catch more fish.
Another effect our closed membership has is seen throughout the Downeast area all year round. It’s impossible not to notice the poverty around here, but sometimes the need is hidden from view. We usually have a budget of about a hundred bucks apiece we put in a coffee can and decide who needs it the most. Last year M. and L.2 hid in the bushes with a camera when the lady we built the ramp for got home. She’d gone to the hospital in Bangor to get her leg amputated and while she was there we built her a wheelchair ramp and put in a wider door. She and her husband just stared at it for a while. She’ll never know who built it. We’ve bought refrigerators for people, had their cars fixed, even got a few jobs, all without them ever knowing who did it.
There you have it, a little story about how a huddle of ice fishermen were affected by a seemingly arbitrary rule established two generations ago. Not quite a butterfly effect, more of a centralized action-reaction type idea. Because of our actions, others have been affected as well, and they affected others, and so on. So if you ever stumble on to a group of men on the ice who are talking quietly remember, what they are doing is probably affecting you.