Catching Up

“Are you sure you want to come? It’s not too late if you don’t want to,” my dad explained.

            I considered for a moment. The smell of fish guts and salt water flooded my lungs as I looked at the rough waters rocking the fishing boat up and down. It was an early Saturday morning at Newport beach, but there was already a crowd waiting to enter.

My past fishing experiences were nothing to write home about. It had typically consisted of hours of waiting followed by disappointment. However, the alternative to joining my dad and brothers was shopping with my mom and sister, so there wasn’t really a winning scenario.

I simply nodded and followed him towards the boat along with my brothers Jake and Luke. Fishing was everything to my brothers. They studied everything from the best fishing baits to the latest techniques, and they always managed to catch something. I would follow my brothers’ examples, but rarely did I manage to reel anything in. I felt distant from my brothers because I could never get the hang of it. I agreed to join my dad, not because I enjoyed fishing, but because I wanted to connect with my brothers.

I was greeted by the unfamiliar rocking of the boat and the jumbled conversations of fellow fishermen. A small room sat in the center of the boat, wrapped by a deck for people to fish off of. A few small tables occupied an upper deck. We weaved our way between the crowds and their fishing poles until we found a small section of the railing that hadn’t been taken. I scanned the deck to find that my brothers and I were probably the youngest on the trip. My brothers went straight to work on setting up their lines and preparing their bait.

“Oh look!” my dad exclaimed. “They have the good stuff for bait.” He pointed to two buckets. One was stuffed with sardines, the other with baby squid. People began shoving their hands into the piles searching for the right bait to use. I took a deep breath. This was going to be a long trip.

The boat lurched forward and pushed away from the docks. We felt like sailors heading for uncharted waters. Cliffs towered over us, and sunlight sprinkled across the sea. The waves had calmed to a steady rolling. I leaned over the railing to look into the murky green water below before feeling my hands slip around in a layer of slime and fish scales left from the previous excursion. I dried my hands on my shorts and helped my dad set up the pole. By now, most fishermen had cast their lines, and a few had even caught something. We cast our lines and watched the bait disappear into the abyss. Now comes the waiting game.

Unsurprisingly, Luke almost instantly caught a bass and unhooked it with my dad. My dad took a quick picture, and Luke threw the fish into a net. I looked into the water again. This time, a faint shadow appeared. The silhouette continued to expand until it pierced through the water towards my line. It was too late when I noticed that the creature was a seal, its slick figure glistening in the sunlight. My rod jerked away, but I gripped as hard as I could. A worker sprinted over to me and helped cut the line.

            “You’ll have to watch out for the seals,” my dad told me. “Try to keep your bait away from them or they’ll take your hook with you.”

            With a bit more caution, I cast my line again. I focused on the feeling of the line, eagerly waiting for a bite. All around me, people were pulling in their prizes and cheering each other on, but I wasn’t going to get distracted. It was just me, my rod, and the vast ocean below.

Then I felt it. The faintest nibble instantly turned to a fierce pull. I peaked over to make sure that it wasn’t another seal, but the murky water hid my target. I fought the pull, reeling the line and waving my rod in the air. My desperate flailing caught my dad’s attention, and he guided me on how to bring the fish up. My competition began to take shape: a giant deep sea bass slapping against the water’s surface. I yanked it onto the deck, while my brothers admired the creature. It was the biggest fish they had seen that day. I carefully placed my trophy into the net next to Luke’s. Feeling satisfied after the catch, I then noticed how hungry I was, so I asked my dad how much longer it was until we got back to shore.

            “We’re probably about halfway done,” my dad answered. I was stunned. I couldn’t make it much longer without food. He pointed to a snack bar inside and said I could grab something small. Of course: a fisherman’s diet only consisted of the small rations on the boat. However, I realized that some fishermen have it better than others when I bit into one of the best burgers I’ve ever tasted. I relaxed on the upper deck, accompanied only by the sunset. When I came down an hour later, Jake had a pile of fish stacked in the net while Luke had caught a few more himself. It wasn’t long before we were laughing and comparing our successes. In the end, we agreed not to brag as Luke caught the first fish, Jake caught the most, and I caught the biggest. But if you ask me, it sounds a lot cooler to say you caught the biggest fish on the trip.