In years gone by, boats and I didn’t have any interest in each other.
The same went for fishing.
Whilst my sister went out on a fishing boat for the day with my Dad, Mum and I had a girlie day, either sitting on the beach or walking round the holiday village. I was about 9.
When I visited Bro in 2010, a fishing trip was on the cards.
I have to admit I was not keen, but that was more out of embarrassment at never having been before and not knowing what to do.
It was funny, but while I was away, Hubby and a friend had intended to go fishing along a local river bank, but somehow they never got there, even though it was less than a mile up the road.
Me? Well, it was an education in fun.
There were seven of us, and Bro had reserved seats on a fishing vessel for the day.
Laden down with tackle, bait, food and a cool box full of beer, when the boat arrived, it was packed and there would have been no room to swing a line, let alone get aboard with all our gear.
Luckily, no money had changed hands, and it was agreed that the boat would sail off overloaded with passengers but without us. Actually it was a heated discussion as the skipper was spoiling for a fight to show off his macho skills, but Bro didn’t rise to the bait, excuse pun.
After a few cups of coffee and several phone calls, a friend of a friend’s friend agreed to be our Captain for the day on his own boat in exchange for fuel for the trip.
This was the boat (and yes, that’s me). WOW.
This was the scene behind us as we set out to sea (double wow).
I was surprised I wasn’t seasick, and joined in the banter and excitement of the trip and the bets on who would catch the biggest fish etc etc.
Bro, sister-in-law, her sister and husband, and their friends were all dab (another pun, sorry) hands at the fishing lark, so I felt a little overwhelmed at first and anxious about baiting my own line, let alone casting it! Anyway, everyone was terrific, and I felt much better when I saw that the girls were danglers, not casters, just dropping their lines over the side rather than the ‘professional’ swing and plop of the float.
The fish were gutted and cleaned out at sea, the gulls following close behind to scavenge the innards.
Coming back, everyone was relaxed as they supped beers (bottled water for me) and content with the day’s catch.
Our skipper had put the barracuda into his freezer on board ready to be bait on his next deep-sea fishing expedition, and we were all looking forward to our dinner which couldn’t be much fresher.
That snapper sure did taste good!