The lone fisherman Sir Timothy Wajvoda made a picturesque scene as he is silhouetted by the setting sun on a quite Saturday afternoon in the outskirts of a marsh in southern Bangladesh.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Indiana Territory

Indiana Territory Travel Summary

At its simplest level, this is a story of Sir Timothy and his voyages around the world (Indiana, United States).

Prefaced by two lakes, I decided to test my angling ability while attesting to the truth of the tales, the adventures told by that of the original Hoosier dwellers. My Indiana Territory trip is divided into two Parts or tails, each about a different place. Because of this structure, the adventure as a whole has a very invigorating plot; it feels more like weekly episodes than one long adventure. The individual tail also feel very choppy, since I have a habit of stumbling from one adventure or crisis to the next. The adventure seems more cohesive if readers recognize that each part reflects my human instinct and is related to all the other parts of human curiosity.

Part I: A Voyage to the Lake of Wolves in Hammond, Indiana (United States)
Lured by the prospect of adventure and easy money, I decided to test my luck at the murky shores of this 1 million year old man-made lake, for a voyage through the East Indy streets was not promising anymore fish. Unfortunately for myself, the fish were not buying on the bait.

Me disappointed

Exhausted by my efforts, I needed to find a new fishing spot off the shore line.

Shore of the Lake of Wolves

When I arrived, I found a crowd of extremely tiny and well-armed fish. I was taken prisoner, be-founded that I had not received a single nibble on the bait I had presented to these well mannered fish.

Wild Firecracker fish in the Lake of Wolves

A cross between court pet and circus attraction, I made friends with many of the courtiers of the area and learned about the history, society, politics, and economy of the Lake of Wolves. For many years, the Lake of Wolves has been at war with its sister Lake George over whether to break the land bridge separating the two or to leave it be. This clash parodies the French-English and Catholic-Protestant conflicts of earlier times, and many of the locals in this section of Indiana correspond to actual political figures of those retched times.
Although I aid the Lake of Wolves by stealing none of its scaled inhabitants, I was resented by many of the local indigenous peoples. I eventually headed down stream blinded and starved to death. Frightened by this prospect, I knew I had to make myself as a visitor to Lake Monroe. This lake will treat me well, even after a nightmare of a trip from the Lake of Wolves demands my full attention.

My home for two months

A colorful boat washes me along the shores of this vast river system, however, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, I departed Hammond and set course to Monroe County.

Part 2: A Voyage to Lake Monroe
  I was only two months into my trip when I sets out on Part II, "A Voyage to Lake Monroe." After encountering a terrible storm, battling malaria, and nearly starving to death, my ship puts in to another unfamiliar shore for much-needed food and water. I go ashore with the landing party but am abandoned by the crew when they discovered there are giant fish creatures living there. I was taken in by a farmer, who displays my resume to the local tribes. The farmer , Clementine Bronstinski, taught me to local fishing spots and us two became good friends. Eventually, the farmer and myself depart from each other and I go prowling the lake along with hundreds of other commercial fishing vessels.

Local Lake Monroe Fishing Port

The tide rolled in and I could feel the vibration of the wind on my line. I was in a perfect spot for trapping an amazingly robust fish mutant. The sunset was beautiful as the night was staring to fall over the lake. By that time I was nearly asleep, half passed out from dehydration and half passed out from the fowl stench of the diesel burning ships passing by. I had merely hours left.

Me at the Lake Monroe Sunset preparing my rod for my last cast of the day

Around four in the morning it hit. Out of the darkness a tug on my line forced me into action. The line nearly snapped twenty three and a half times from my estimation. This creature will not win this battle of brawn and brains. This fish was fueled with passion and lust for human flesh. I could feel the eyes of this creature feeding on my upper limbs and chest cavity. Rise peaked over the cascading hills and the battle was nearly over.

Me at sunrise midst the hardship of my epic Indian Territory battle
After dropping nearly 9 kilograms of body weight, my two month journey was coming to a close. I was dripping sweat and gasping for air while I reeled in my beast from beneath. My adversary put up a match that will go down as my new bench maker for how hard a fish can fight against me. On the Sir Timothy scale of fish fighting, this behemoth would be ranked a 6 out of 6. All details aside, the battle was over. I tugged the fish nearly a kilometer to the far southwest shore. The fish struggled, bit, and squawked but in the end it succumbed to my dominance. 

Indiana Territory Mutated Cat Fish (Male)

Fish fry anyone! The massive 200 pound fish laid as a deceased over weight little person would in my caring arms. The trip that nearly killed me and my spirit was nearing its end. I had only the 20 hour boat ride back up stream to the Lake of Wolves.

The boat trip back to the Lake of Wolves so I could depart to another adventure
Though it is now only a memory, I can still feel the malaria and dehydration that I felt on that dreadful trip. Though my symtoms of malaria will come and go as a sunset does, my memories of my adventure in the Indiana Territory will not be in vein. I have met many kind indigenous peoples and heard fishing tales that would turn me in my boat upside-down, I have gained the knowledge needed to successfully survive in the wild Indiana Territory.

Sunset to symbolize my completed journey

To my fans and supporters
"Fish On! " ~ Your Friend Sir Timothy Wajvoda

P.S. Send in your own stories and adventures to

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