Fishing. Now that's something that Peter could do. You don't find yourself, some 30 plus years of age, doing the same thing over and over again since your daddy taught you when you were a little runt and not being pretty darn good at it. Peter had to have been a good fisherman, but sometimes you land a sweet catch and sometimes you don't. This time he didn't. All night long and not even a wandering crab (provendential failure, perhaps?)
Contrast this with the next scene: a haul of fish so massive that neither the net nor two fishing boats combined could sustain the weight of the catch.
And the difference between the two scenes: a program? an ideology? a strategy?
A great catch of fish, but it didn't come easily. The fish could only be found in deep waters. Deep waters. But deep waters are ... deep! They're dark! They're far away from shore, from home, from comforts. Out there in deep waters, there's so much uncertainty! We're sitting ducks at the mercy of the sea!
That's what we think.
Jesus, he just thinks, deep waters ... where else can I find enough space to summon all those fish to mash themselves into Peter's net?
And the rest is history. After Jesus comes on the scene, everything changes, nothing matters anymore. The earth-shattering, record-breaking, career catch of fish, the busted nets, the soggy boats; they're all left to rot on the beach. Jesus has just walked into their lives and it is no gamble for them to leave everything and follow him. From now on, they'd be catching men. From now on, they'd be forever caught by Christ.