...the boys would’ve never gotten a bite.
Print outs of high tide schedules lay like driftwood on my kitchen counter. My husband, who has historically cared very little about time or timeliness (sans tee-time) has now become acutely aware of times and tides. Just last week, there was nothing more to this fish obsession than a pole and a dream. This week, there are 3 poles, a multi-level tackle box packed with gadgets and gizmos, website printouts with fishing advice, a “fishing for dummies” book, a fishing chair, a fishing light, and still…the dream of catching a fish.
Oh, it’s not that they haven’t tried. Yes, they’ve tried alright, every single night this week. Chasing the tide from rocky shore to pebbly beach, they’ve tried. After a week of failed attempts, last night they declared that it was on! Oh the excitement. The time was 9pm. They were using bait. They were going to a known location for stripped somethingorother. Wendy instructed Shaun not to come home unless he caught something. I didn’t have to tell Jermaine, he had already told me, “We’re in it for the long haul tonight!” There was a look in his eye, similar to the look that Rocky had in his eye before he delivered that knock out punch to Apollo Creed. …it might’ve been the eye of the tiger, I’m not sure, but I knew what it meant, it meant that my man was going on a fish killin’ frenzy tonight. (The JAWS music plays here).
At 3:00AM, I heard the truck pull into the driveway. As Jerms crawled into bed, I mustered up enough energy to mutter, “Did you catch anything?”.
“I caught a skate within the first 15 minutes”.
A skate? Like a roller skate? What the heck is a skate? Sounds loser-ish. I was too tired to get the details, “Anything else?” I whispered.
One would think that this many failed attempts would leave the two men defeated and discouraged, but a strange phenomenon has happened. All the failure has actually fueled them. The more failure they incur, the more determined they become.
Tomorrow they’re getting some professional help; and they’re taking the kids deep sea fishing. My mom is also going and is determined to “show these boys how it’s done”. I vaguely recall going deep sea fishing with my dad as a child and let’s just say, I won’t be joining them, and I also predict that this will be Amelle’s first and last time on a deep sea fishing adventure. I still remember the fish guts to this day, Eewww!
The aftermath: This was found on our front porch this morning:
Amelle practices casting for the big day tomorrow:
Even Amaya wants in!