Deep Sea Fishing

Wow. Not wow like it was breathtakingly beautiful experience that changed my life but wow, as in those who get motion sickness in a car should not go deep sea fishing. I thought that I was tough but just in case, took some dramamine and those "trendy" little sea band bracelets just in case. However, about 15 minutes into the 6-hour trip, I realized that things were headed in a bad direction. As I stared at the horizon (because I was told that would help), reciting scripture and praying that God would not let me hurl in front of 14 strangers, I had a few epiphanies. Epiphany #1: I need to learn more scripture. Epiphany #2: Things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better. Epiphany #3: As much I love to travel and try new things, my stomach never seems to agree with my idea of "fun" or "delicious." I held off for about an hour but as soon as we got to our drop place, I found myself becoming very acquainted with the side of the boat as the boathand yelled out in the background, "Looks like we have our first victim!" Thanks Ronnie. Needless to say, I was eventually able to pull my head up, bait my pole and try my hand at fishing. When I caught my first fish, a red grouper, I was so excited and thought that maybe it was worth it! I felt like a mighty huntress! Then he said it was too small and that we had to throw it back. I tell you, it didn't feel very small reeling that thing up from the depths! The rest of the 6 hours went pretty much the same, stare at the horizon praying not to get sick and catching fish that had to be thrown back. After working my tail off for 5 fish that were too small or out of season, I could tell that I had a big one on the line. Reeling that thing up was one of the more physically demanding tasks I've ever taken on. Then, just below the surface, I could see a little silver and white on my line. As I pulled it out of the water, I knew right away it was a keeper. It was a big, delicious Triggerfish, a type of fish that Parker and I always look for on menus down here. I was so proud, I screamed across the boat to Parker, "I have a keeper!!" One more throw back and a vermillion that I was able to keep made me feel like a real fishmonger. We ended up coming home with about a week's worth of fish. As I was walking in the front door, I have never felt so torn between eating (seeing as I had not had a bite to eat all day since losing my breakfast), showering and sleeping. I opted for them all, in that order. As I lay in bed at 4:15pm, I could still feel the boat rocking underneath me. In addition to the fish, which I plan on cooking up tonight, I had a few other souvenirs of my trip. One is the giant bruise on wrist from the sea band, a lovely reminder of exactly how ineffective they were. Another will be the bruise on my thigh from learning how-to (and most importantly, how not-to) hold a fishing pole while reeling in a big one. Lastly, and certainly my personal favorite, is the picture of me with my big fish. The moral of the story is twofold: one, there's just not enough dramamine in the world for some people; and two, you actually can have fun while getting beat up by the sea.

*Pictures to follow. :-)