We always dug postholes around fruit trees and put a bullhead or two in the hole and filled and tamped them. Great organic fertilizer.
It is, and maybe if it's buried deep enough. I tried using some old fish as fertilizer and the raccoons made a quick mess of it.
When we took trips to Canada I used a cane pole when I was a kid. Then switched to a traditional bait casting reel. When I was in my 30s I decided to learn to fly cast. Bought a rod and reel and hollow line at the equivalent of a K-mart here. They only had one choice for a rod. It was an 8' Pflueger, cheap. I lucked out. The biggest fish I ever caught was a large mouth bass, only 2 lbs, on a fly from a boat, by myself. No witnesses. I could have claimed 5 lbs. Someone stole all the fishing gear from the cabin and I could never get used to the new one, so I gave it up. I've thought of trying it again, but the equipment looks so complicated now, with so many choices, I wouldn't know what to buy. I don't like to clean fish. Don't like to cook them when they are cleaned. Don't like to release injured fish. I'd rather just cast. A fly with no hook might be the thing. It's just fun to see if you can put it where you want to.
Yes, you have to bury at least a foot down which is best anyway and makes for deeper healthier roots on fruit trees. Raccoons make great fertilizer also.
You boys missed two keywords. Postholes indicate a posthole digger was used to make a deep 8" diameter hole and the word tamped indicates that the soil was compacted not only masking any odor but making digging unpleasant for the grave robber. Another method is to throw a handful of lime on top of the fish before burial and sprinkle some around on the ground.
Many years ago, I lived near Lake Mayfield in western Washington, had a little pedal-boat, and used to go fishing almost every day. Since I stayed along the shore (pedal-boat was not good in waves), I sometimes caught squawfish or other scrap fish. I would bury those under the lilacs or one of my many rose bushes for fertilizer. My neighbor across the street had a little Schnauzer which wandered around the neighborhood, and apparently, he dug up one of my buried fish and tried to eat it and got bones stuck in his throat. The neighbor ended up taking the dog to the vet to see what was wrong, and then realized that since his dog had been wandering in my yard when I was not home, that he probably dug up the fish from my place. He was upset with me for burying a fish in my own yard, and complained that he had to pay the vet bill for something I was responsible for. Since his Schnauzer had no business even being in my yard, let alone digging holes under my rose bushes, there was not much he could actually do; but he certainly let me know that he believed it was my fault, and not the dog’s fault.
Here there are leash laws but no burying fish laws. But on death of a loved one some need to find blame other than themselves.
OK you forced me into telling of my sordid past. Remember those 32 bullheads we caught, cleaned with the help of the neighbor? Welllll...That was on a Saturday and we individually wrapped and froze the little buggers. AND wrapped the cleanings in newspaper and put them in a garbage bag in the garage. Our garbage pick up was not until Wednesday and we lived in town with a little yard so no burying was going to happen. The same weekend our cat peed into our vinyl bean bag chair...leaking through the zipper. We thought, maybe we could get new beans and clean the vinyl? So, we emptied the beans into another garbage bag and put it in the garage. Come Wednesday the idiomatic expression of 'smelled to high heaven' had new meaning. so we waited to the last minute to put the bags by the curb and high tailed it back to the house. I watched out the kitchen window and as the truck pulled up it was obvious that the garbage men noticed an aroma. They THREW the bags on board and quickly pulled the lever. The blade came down, slicing through the bags, styrafoam beads flying everywhere and, back then, the guys had to clean up 'their' mess. I felt bad for them but I hid after that.
I have had similar experiences with negligent dog owners. Their dogs damaged my property and got hurt or sick and they blamed it on me. Years ago they paid us to bring in squaw fish and they disposed of them.
How can they stop anyone from burying fish on their own property? I can understand laws prohibiting fish in garbage cans, but burying I can't unless someone buries them in a shallow trench or puts them in a garden and hoes a few inches of dirt over them.
For the brave, you can seal unwanted fish or fish parts into a plastic barrel and let them rot into fish emulsion, then dilute it with water to the desired concentration and use it to fertilize almost everything. It does stink, and may attract bears (which can be used to feed your family and fertilize the garden). Allow a water seal or check valve to release pressure. Other things such as alfalfa or kelp can also be used to make tea, as can compost, but those should be aerated or stirred frequently...less stinky, though.
My favorite lure was the Mepps spinner. My favorite place was a lake above timberline in SW Colorado. Very few fished there because it was a slow 5-mile 4-wheel drive ride in a small rig like a Jeep CJ5 and then a very steep slow 3-mile hike in thin air. The water was clear and the fish were all native trout and the smallest I caught there was 18". My least favorite was the Snake River between two dams where all I ever caught was carp some over 3 feet long. Off a dock on the upper Snake, it was more of a suntanning bikini-wearing beer-drinking day with friends as we caught maybe 50 crappies large enough to eat. The hard part was all the filleting but it was sure tasty cooked over a charcoal pit. I did hate the bones that were missed when filleting. One of the gals in our group was Paiute and I don't think she ever missed a bone. She grew up filleting fish and earned a lot of money filleting fish for the sportsman. Without tips, she could easily clear $100 a day and that was some serious coin back in the late 70s. . Some days she picked up $100 or more in tips. She worked Thursday through Sunday and other days by special request.