Valley friends stay sober by getting hooked on fishing

YAKIMA, Wash. -- With a yelp, Vicky Whinnery leaps to her feet and starts yelling.

"Hey, hey, hey!" she screams, gripping her newly purchased fishing pole. "What do I do now? Do I have a fish?"

A group of guys comes to her rescue, giving the newbie encouragement as she reels in her catch: a pint-size sunfish, no bigger than a business card.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," 52-year-old Whinnery coos to the dying fish after releasing it in Rotary Lake, near the Yakima Greenway. "There you go guy, come on. I'll give you a free worm."

Tales such as this one have become commonplace among Whinnery and her friends, who use fishing as a means of staying sober. The group consists of five regulars and a few stragglers who know one another through treatment and sober housing programs in Yakima.

Most of them are unemployed, which enables them to fish every week, if not every day. Meeting on the banks of nearby watering holes, the anglers will listen to birds, bask in the sunshine and swap stories as they cast their lines.

For these Yakima residents, fishing is a healthy and positive way to fight their demons. Together.

"When you are doing the treatment thing, you need time by yourself," said Renelto "Spike" Weikel, who formed the group. "For me, fishing is my therapy. It's my church."

When he was a kid living in the Nile Valley, Weikel loved fishing. That changed when he began using pot, then meth. All he cared about was getting his next fix.

Weikel, 52, vowed to turn his life around a few years ago -- in memory of a son and daughter who both died of cystic fibrosis. When his daughter succumbed to the disease in 2003, Weikel turned to drugs to escape his pain. But when his son died four years later, he knew from experience that drugs wouldn't work.

Instead, he went into treatment -- a regimen that strengthened after he took out his fishing gear two years ago.

"As long as I'm out here going fishing, I'm not doing dumb things," Weikel said. "Seeing a kid's face when you catch a fish, it's better than any dope we've ever done."

When in recovery, Weikel said people struggle for ways to spend their time. They need to stay clear of temptation, of people who will lure them back into old habits. They need a release.

"I lived for years on the streets in Yakima and all I cared about was tuning out," said Weikel, who has four other grown children. "Now I see a counselor weekly. This is one of his prescriptions."

Whinnery fished as a kid in Kansas, but she didn't pick up a pole again until earlier this spring. She bought her license, picked up some gear and headed out with the guys -- eager to show them what she could do.

So far, she's caught a few baby fish, but no keepers. As long as the weather cooperates, she said she'll be back.

"I'm definitely going to be a fair-weather fisher," the 52-year-old jokes. "No ice fishing and no rain."

Troy Cheshier is made of hardier stock. The recovering meth addict goes fishing with Weikel several times a week and isn't shy about sharing his story.

"I decided to get sober when my daughter was taken away from me," said 28-year-old Cheshier, who regained custody of his firstborn in March. "She was 3 at the time. I decided then and there I'd get treatment. I'd make something of my life."

Cheshier and his wife now have two daughters -- ages 5 and 11/2 -- and are expecting their third child in November. Cheshier said he turned to fishing a couple years ago to stay occupied. Now, he's hooked.

"Even if we don't catch anything, we are doing a clean activity and are having fun," said Cheshier, who does painting and graffiti removal through the Office of Neighborhood Development Services. "That's what it's all about."

Eddy Castro, too, considers fishing his medicine.

About two years ago, he had a cocaine habit that cost him $100 a day. He wrote bad checks and stole money from his dad's wallet to support his habit. As a result, he lost his family's respect and custody of his son.

When Fabian was taken from him, Castro remembers looking in a mirror and not recognizing the person he'd become. He promptly sought help to treat his addiction and took numerous classes to regain custody of his 6-year-old, who was returned to him in December.

A month later, Castro began fishing with Weikel and Cheshier. Sometimes, he catches sizable bass, salmon and catfish. Other times, he returns home empty handed.

Either way, Castro said fishing has helped him more than he thought possible.

"These guys have been a blessing," said Castro, 37. "Fishing is a therapy. It clears the mind and soothes the soul."

For Castro and the others, fishing is an escape. It's a chance to resume an activity they once loved, to reconnect with their childhood. They hope their group will expand, so others can join in the revelry.

"I remember as a kid how fun it was," Weikel said. "I've replaced one addiction with another. It's good for me."

* Erin Snelgrove can be reached at 509-577-7684 or esnelgrove@yakimaherald.com.