Hello Reader Nation,
In honor of summer activities and family dynamics enhanced by an upcoming wedding (oh, it's the wedding of K+E), here's a little flashback writing for you. For a brief period of time, I thought I'd dabble in the art of storytelling with personal narratives based on true events as remembered by me, the author, a la The Moth podcast. Also, if you don't listen to The Moth, you should.
Summer 2015, fishing with E, Billy, Adam, and Captain Tommy.
Let me set the scene for you. The year was 2012. I was stoked because school had been cancelled due to snow, and I was able to marathon season 1 of Downton Abbey. All of the noble titles used in the show had me thinking that SS Herladyship would be the name of my future yacht. Which got me thinking about the boat my family had as a kid, which got me thinking about fishing, which made me remember this story. And for posterity, I wrote it down. And now, here it is.
I always hated fishing. It was hot and boring to spend hours on our small recreational motorboat, to dip and roll in the waves, to hope to hook "a keeper" and to listen to Mom croon "Heeeeere, fishy, fishy, fishy."
The minnows were simultaneously the best and worst part. Daddy would go into the bait shop with the yellow and white minnow bucket. He'd come back with water sloshing out of the black grated trap door. Shadows would dart around inside the bucket. The minnows were so tiny and fast. I would put my hand in the bucket and let them swim around it. They kissed my fingers. I whispered my condolences.
Pop-pop loved fishing, and when he came with us the day was a real production. We had to get up early, pack a cooler for lunch, hitch up the boat, drive to the dock, back up the car, unhitch the boat, wait for Daddy to park the car and get bait, wait for Mom to walk back to the car then back to the boat because she forgot to leave her engagement ring at home and she doesn't want to lose it, wait for Pop-pop to walk back to the car then back to the boat to drop off his false tooth because he forgot to leave his tooth at home and he doesn't want to lose it, wait for the boat engine to turn over, and then drive the boat real s l o w through the "no wake" zones that I swear were only put in place to test. my. childhood. patience.
Then we'd find a place where Daddy said the fish were biting. Mom would say "No, they're biting down at the point." Daddy would say "We're here now so put your line in and catch something." Mom would put her line in but she would say "We aren't going to catch anything here, there are no fish." I would just listen and whisper to the minnows. Mom and Daddy weren't fighting. Not really. That's just the way they talked. By now, Pop-pop had a tangle in his rig that required some quiet concentration to un-knot.
Twenty minutes or so would go by. Mom would say "turn on the radio and see where the fish really are, I bet they're at the point." Daddy would turn it on and some fisherman's voice would come on the speaker and say "we're really pulling 'em in." Someone else would ask where. But the fisherman wouldn't say where. Fishermen are pretty sneaky about where they are finding fish, because it makes for better fish tales. Mom swears that they are down at the point. So Daddy says "get your lines in because we are going to the point." Mom and Pop-pop and me start to reel in our lines and Daddy starts to drive before Mom's is all the way up and she says "David." Because her hook is swinging all around and she can't quite grab the sinker because we are not in a no wake zone.
The fast driving between places is my favorite part. I abandon the minnows so that I can kneel in the passengers seat, letting the wind push my hair back. Salty tears and sea mist mingle on my face because we are driving so fast that I have to squint my eyes. Pop-pop has put his rig on the boat floor, so now his line is all tangled up again and Mom is laughing, saying that he better get it untangled before we get down to the point because that's where the fish are really biting. Daddy is quiet. And I am quiet. And Mom is laughing and Pop-pop is making line-untangling sounds of frustration, but not real frustration. And he smiles, and I can see where he left his false tooth in the car. So we go to the point and the waves are really pitching and rolling, causing a whitecap foam that stretches out around us. Daddy says "Put your lines in and catch some fish, because this is where Cherylie says they are." Daddy calls mom "Cherylie" especially when they are having discussions about things like finding fish and reeling in lines before the boat starts and who is going to mow the grass because Daddy is getting to it and Mom can go do it real fast, right now.
Mom is waiting for Daddy to bait her hook, because she doesn't like to hook the minnows, and I don't like to, either, so I'm waiting for Daddy to bait mine, too. Pop-pop is still untangling. Mom drops her line in and I imagine her little minnow being pulled down, down, down by the weight of the sinker, but also jerked up from the pitching and rolling of the boat. I feel bad for it, but then my hook is baited, and I think about how cool I am because even though I'm the youngest, I have a casting reel like Daddy instead of a drop line. Pop-pop has a drop line, but he tries to cast it sometimes anyway, which usually means that his rig gets tangled around the top of his rod and then he has to bring it into the boat to untangle it again. He's still untangling, but Mom and I, our minnows are down at the bottom, trying to catch us some fishies. And the boat is really rocking, and Mom says that's good because it will make our minnows look like they're dancing on the ocean floor.
Daddy isn't putting his line in because he's getting sea-sick, and Mom never understood how he could have been in the Navy because he has a weak stomach. Not Pop-pop, though. He has a good stomach. That's why he can keep looking into the boat, trying to untangle his line. He was in the Air Force. I think he was an engine mechanic. I can picture him working on planes the way that he's working on his fishing rig right now. My stomach starts to feel funny watching him, so Mom says to look out at the horizon because then you feel like you're sitting still, instead of rocking with the boat.
Me and Mom are sitting above the cabin, with our legs hanging over the side so that when the bow dips down our toes dip in the water, too. So I try to look at the horizon but I really want to look at my toes dipping in the water. And we are all quiet for a while, thinking about things like not throwing up and standing on solid ground and pulling in the biggest fish so that later tonight at the campfire you can tell everyone about pulling in the biggest fish.
Then Pop-pop makes this kind of grunting sound and says "Jeezus buhm" because he never curses but sometimes he does say "Jeezus buhm." And Mom looks at Pop-pop and I look at Pop-pop and Daddy looks at Pop-pop. Mom says "David" and Daddy goes over to Pop-pop and there's a lot of blood in Pop-pop's hand. There was a hook and fishing line and the sinker and now there's blood, too. Mom says "Dad are you okay?" and I'm thinking I don't think he's okay, but he's saying "Jeezus buhm, I got it, Jeezus buhm." Daddy hands Pop-pop one of the clean white rags that he keeps on the boat for things like wiping away fish guts and then leans over the edge and starts puking. Mom hands me her fishing rod and says "Keep the rods pointed away from each other so that they don't get tangled" and pulls her legs back and goes through the cabin over to Pop-pop. Mom says "Dad" and then she says "David" and Daddy is looking pretty pale, but he reaches for Mom's fishing rod and I hand it to him and he starts to reel it in. And Mom says "We need to go to the hospital" and the ocean is blue and the sky is blue and my dad is green and the clean white rag is red. And Mom is saying "fast" and Pop-pop is saying "Jeezus buhm" and Daddy is saying "reel in your line, Ker Bear" and so I start reeling in my line because Daddy doesn't ever really say much, so this is important. The boat is really rocking and Mom is saying "Dad stop pulling on it" and Pop-pop is saying "Jeezus buhm, I got it, Jeezus bum" but the pitching and rolling of the boat made him push the hook a little farther into his thumb. The barb of the hook is making one side of his thumb turn very white and everything else in his hand is very red. Our lines are reeled in and Mom is sitting by Pop-pop saying "Dad stop, David go" and Daddy is trying to get the boat started without throwing up on himself. Daddy says "Ker Bear, you drive" and I know I'm not so good at driving, but Daddy said, so this is important.
Daddy gets the engine started and I take the wheel and I'm steering but I don't know how to make it slow down so we're just going really fast, jumping over the waves, and stuff in the boat is thumping, and Mom and Daddy and Pop-pop are getting really jarred around and Mom is saying "Kerri slow down! Dad stop! David!" and Pop-pop is still pretty sure that he can get that hook out of his thumb, Jeezus buhm. Daddy comes and makes the engine slow down and he tells me that this is the throttle and push it this way for fast and that way for slow, and I listen because this is important.
Then I'm driving and Mom is saying "Kerri not so slow! Dad stop! David!" and then she starts to laugh a little bit. And I put my face above the windshield because even though I'm driving a boat to the dock to the car to the hospital this is still my favorite part. When we get to the no wake zone Daddy takes the wheel again because he isn't so green anymore. Daddy says "good job." Pop-pop is still making frustrated sounds -"fishing hook stuck in my thumb really far" frustrated sounds, and he still seems to think that he can pull the hook out of his thumb, Jeezus buhm, even though the barb is catching. Mom is saying "Dad stop" but she's also kind of laughing still, and my Pop-pop smiles at her and you can see where he remembered to put his false tooth in the car. And I think about how much I hate fishing, and how this is another good reason why I hate fishing, and how I will bring this up the next time everyone wants to go through the production of going fishing. And I smile.
Auntie Gayle, Uncle Larry, me, and Daddy. Forced-fish holding.
Pop-pop catches a stingray.
Daddy, me, and my sister, Kristen. It remains unclear why I'm always the one holding fish with my bare hands.
Finally someone else to hold the fish. Me, Pop-pop, and a flounder.