Brian Fisk is Green Bay's resident lure hunter. Now what on earth is that?

GREEN BAY — Brian Fisk’s social studies classroom at East High School is best described as eclectic.

There are pictures and posters covering every wall and knickknacks stashed on shelves and tables. As someone who teaches history, he has posters of figures like Barack Obama, the Kennedys and Martin Luther King Jr. By his desk is a collection of political buttons.

He has a statue of George Washington wearing a Packers baseball cap and banners from his alma maters: the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire and Montana State University.

Fisk is the type of teacher who kneels next to his students’ desks when they need help, literally getting on their level. At the front of the classroom, he has a sign that says: “Use Bob the Builder Philosophy. Can we do it? Yes, we can!!!!”

Then there are the fish. There are photos of different river fish on his classroom walls, and above his desk sits a 40-inch northern pike with a perch in its mouth. The pike is naturally wearing a cowboy hat because his students said it needed one.

Among all the memorabilia, there is a large poster reading “Lure Hunter.”

That’s Fisk’s other name. In his free time, he does just that: Treks along the East and Fox rivers, hunting for lost fishing lures, discarded line and just about anything else he can find.

Why? Well, it’s no surprise that fishing is huge in Green Bay. Along with that comes a lot of waste. Fishers lose hooks and bobbers, their lines get tangled and have to be cut. All of that just sits in the river, waiting for a bird to get stuck in it.

“If you're out there, help humanity somehow. If you see a can, well, don't wait for somebody else to pick that up. Why don’t you be the change?” he said. “You be the one who picks up the can. Then don’t throw it in the trash; recycle that can.”

In early April, while out hunting for lures, Fisk found his first death of the year: a pelican with a lure stuck in its beak. He puts the lures that kill birds on his wall of infamy at home.

Fisk, who loves being outdoors, doesn't just pick up trash — though if he sees plastic bottles or other garbage, he does pick that up, too. The lost lures he finds embedded in the murky river floor, trees and along banks are treasure to him.

“I’ve always been that kid who’s a collector of things, so the kid who comes home with rocks. You know what I mean? The kid who comes home with a snake,” he said.

He repurposes the lures, some of which can be quite pricey, and sells them as “Red Devil Lures” in honor of East High’s mascot. A student designed the logo, and 20% of the sales go toward funding a student fishing tournament where kids spend a day fishing in the East River.

“The whole idea behind it was, ‘Let's get the kids out there. Let's get them having fun in the river, and let's give away equipment,’” Fisk said.

The student who catches the biggest fish, the student who catches the smallest and the student who catches the most each get a fishing rod.

For the lures that aren’t salvageable, Fisk turns them into ornaments for his Christmas tree.

Fisk has been lure hunting since the pandemic and is now an expert at it. He’s developed his own tools for getting lures out of the water and trees using repurposed materials around his house.

He calls this recycling “the Great Depression mentality,” influenced by his mother’s upbringing during that era.

“It's this mindset of: Can this be repurposed? Can this be redone? When is it worn out? Is there some other way to do something?”

His contraption for getting lures out of trees is a fruit picker, wrapped in the mesh from a bag of onions. On a sunny April afternoon, Fisk waded into the water by the East River Bridge to retrieve a lure from a branch overhanging the water. Within seconds, his tool had the lure in its mesh, and Fisk was back on the shore.

He writes about this technique in his book, “The Lure Hunter: A Guide to Finding Fishing Lures” — the first book of its kind to Fisk’s knowledge. The book’s cover was designed by a former student, who is now a graphic designer, and it was edited by East High’s librarian. The self-published book is available on Amazon.

Not all lures end up in trees, so he also has a large magnet attached to a rope that he can clip onto his waders to get lures from the river bottom.

Sometimes, he finds more than just lures. His craziest find? On two separate occasions, Fisk has found handguns along the Fox River. While morbid, he is convinced that with the amount of time he spends out on the water, he will one day find a body.

Growing up fishing, Fisk spends so much time lure hunting that he doesn’t have time to fish anymore. In a year, he estimates he walks about 1,200 miles looking for lures. It’s more about the process than the final product for him, though.

“To me, the fun is the hunt. It's adrenaline,” he said. “Because you never know what you're going to find.”

Danielle DuClos is a Report for America corps member who covers K-12 education for the Green Bay Press-Gazette. Contact her at dduclos@gannett.com. Follow on Twitter @danielle_duclos. You can directly support her work with a tax-deductible donation at GreenBayPressGazette.com/RFA or by check made out to The GroundTruth Project with subject line Report for America Green Bay Press Gazette Campaign. Address: The GroundTruth Project, Lockbox Services, 9450 SW Gemini Drive, PMB 46837, Beaverton, Oregon 97008-7105.

This article originally appeared on Green Bay Press-Gazette: Brian Fisk is Green Bay's resident lure hunter. What on earth is that?