I've never been to a fishing trip before. I mean, going out to the waters on a motorized vehicle and spend countless hours casting and reeling under the heat of the sun. Although, I remember trying to catch tiny fish from a shallow stream near our vegetable garden before, the same stream where my older siblings used to do laundry. A slightly bent bamboo twig was used as pole; a staple wire from a box was formed into a hook, and this hook was tied to a thread which served as the line. Eureka!! a rudimentary fishing gear. For bait, a live earthworm freshly dugged up from a muddy soil was cut up into lengths that fitted the staple wire hook. That was fishing to me, for recreation , since I did not cook the poor fish I caught.
I got a few friends who just loved to go fishing. Once, I was invited to go fishing and I had to look for a lame alibi to decline the invite. For I thought, fishing is such a boring thing to do, may be next to doing nothing! And so the idea of going fishing was nowhere in my to do list. To me, the thought of waiting for the fish to pick up my bait for who-knows-how-long was like eternity, and therefore so much of a time wasted. This is in addition to the apprehensions of mosquito bites if gone fishing during dusk in the freshwater lakes around Manhattan, KS or the extreme Texas heat of the mid-day sun off the waters of the Corpus Christi Bay. Another reason that held me strongly back from going fishing, especially in sea waters, was my inability to swim.
Why did I go fishing anyway?
A geology professor (Vernon K.) whose office is next to mine in the College where I am teaching, mentioned to me that he loves to fish. He is a white septuagenarian who has retired five times already from previous jobs, He goes fishing for sport and for spending solitude. Although, he told me that once in a while, he would fillet the bigger catch. I have always been a fish eater and I indulge myself with fish meal from those simply cooked in vinegar ('paksiw'), fish soup ('tinola'), fried fish and fish escabeche, to the fancy and pricey steamed or grilled fish. I knew in general that Americans love to fillet their catch and that they simply toss the fish heads and fleshy bones away for the seagulls to party on. So I told my geologist friend not to throw the fish parts next time and to save the other species that are not subject to regulatory restrictions (number and size wise) instead of throwing them back to the water.
One summer morning back to my office, I got a voice mail from Vernon, straight from the middle of the Redfish Bay asking me if I were interested in some fish. Apparently, he was out there catching some good quality local species of fish like flounder, redfish and drum. Honestly I knew nothing about these fish but I got to know them eventually. My class for that day was to end at about ten in the evening so I did not have the time to go to his place and pick up the fish. I was thinking then I might have defaulted the offer. But this gracious 'old man' who looks and acts 'way younger' that his age saved the fish for me.
On my way to pick up the fish, I did not know what to expect. Maybe Vernon got a couple of his 'legal' catch for me. But my eyes opened so wide in amazement when I saw what he got for me. It was a 'lot'.. a big flounder, three drums, a couple of red fish, and few others I did not remember their names! And of couse, few fish heads from those he filleted. Venon's wife witnessed how astonished I was in reacting to what I saw. She told me, it was as if I got the biggest surprise of my life. And it was true! Our freezer was stuffed with fish like never before.
The following week, Vernon went fishing again, for fun. Their freezer was still overly stuffed with fillet from his previous trips, so I was the lucky recipient of his legal catch again! This time, he taught me how to clean the big fish. I got more-than two week's supply of fish. He drove me by the bay and showed where he usually got his 'loot' of fish. It turns out, he was fishing only in shallow waters. Admiring the abundance of the fish my friend caught regularly, and out of my curiosity, I told him that I would go fishing with him one day. And so, my interest in fishing started!
Saltwater fishing license, checked! Sunblock, checked! Food and drinks, checked! With life vest on, I was seated in front of an open boat. The smell of the ocean and the morning breeze washing my face brought a good feeling! While Vernon was behind me navigating the boat, my mind was wondering in anticipation of new experience this day would bring. I knew there is something in store for me, including the catch. I gaped my face to the horizon before me, and to the sea grass bed all around. I got excited with the sight of huge fish swimming in the sea grass bed and with those that keep jumping off the water. Silently, I told myself... watch out fish!
Then there was ... casting 101! Before we left Vernon's place, he showed me a couple strokes on how to cast the line. I thought it was simple and easy. So out there in the waters, I practiced casting fishing line. It turned out casting was not easy as I earlier thought. I tried my hardest to cast but they were not good enough. At the start,Vernon was watching me every time I cast my line, if only to prevent his ear from being hooked (lol) if not to check if I was doing the right stroke. My hooks were not going that far no matter how I tried. I would release the reel either too early or too late. Not at the right timing. I was told to relax and get the feel of the timing when to release the reel. After about half an hour doing the casting, I became frustrated. I was nowhere near to be doing good in this 'seemingly' easy task!
I sat down to get some drinks. Suddenly, I started to think about my students who were trying to learn something new for the first time in my class. Here I am, trying my best to do good but still struggling. At this very moment, I put myself to my students' shoes. I thought about the times I got upset, if not frustrated, when my students fail to completely comprehend topics which seem to be very simple and easy to me. I felt I need to show more compassion to my students if only to give justice to job I love the most - teaching! What a humbling experience, indeed!
Seven hours slipped very quickly, and all our baits were gone. We called it quits. We ended up catching drums, croakers and perches. I experienced having my hand and fingers pierced by the sharp fins of catfish and perch. Some lessons learned, including when to release the fish back to the water. Finally, I was able to feel the right timing in releasing the reel.
Contrary to my expectation, there never was a dull moment spent while we were casting and reeling in. There was always the excitement every time I yanked the pole to, hopefully, get a fish hooked.
After cleaning all what we caught, Vernon told me to take of all the fish home. For there's no space in the freezer to stash. That was a lot.. more than enough to feed us for a month! Sweet!
