By Kat Bryant
I was going to write today about how much fun I had at the Seattle Mariners’ home opener. It was pretty darned great, but I want to tell you instead about my experience with an actual mariner.
First, a little history: Yes, I was a desert rat most of my adult life, but I was raised by people who love the water — and that did rub off on me.
My folks grew up in Niagara Falls, New York. Mom’s parents lived on the Niagara River and spent as much time as humanly possible on their boat. I think it’s safe to say they both loved fishing even more than they loved golf — and that says a lot. My dad’s passion for fishing stemmed largely from the time he spent on the river with them.
After I entered the picture and came of age, I spent a lot of time sitting on the bow of Gramma and Grampa’s boat — first enjoying the thrill of the speed as we zipped to their favorite spots on the river, and then the quiet after the hooks went into the water. It was pure bliss.
During the six years my family lived in Louisiana, we had a 23-foot boat with a shrimp net, and we went out on the Gulf of Mexico regularly. My younger brother and I would marvel at all the cool stuff the net picked up along with the shrimp (little puffer fish were my favorites), and after a while we’d lower the holding bucket into the water and let them swim away. We learned something new every time we went out.
Like my mom, I never really enjoyed fishing after I hit my teen years; it bored me. But we never lost our passion for being out on the water. Bobbing on the waves with the wind in your hair, listening to the slap of the water against the hull, soaking up the sunlight, watching for birds and critters — it just stirs the soul.
Today, my folks live on a lake back East. We take at least one outing in their pontoon boat when I visit, once or twice a year. For a long time, that seemed like enough for me.
I didn’t realize just how much I missed the water until recently, when I went on a couple of trips with Captain Don of Ocean Sportfishing in Westport. Initially, I went because I’d been assigned to write a magazine article about whale-watching. (I know, it’s a rough job, right?) But the whales were, shall we say, uncooperative; so Don invited me to join his all-day fishing trip this past Saturday. Surely, he said, we’d see whales out there. I didn’t care about fishing, but how could I refuse a full day on the water?
As we left the marina at dawn, the tide was coming in. A few of us stood out on the bow, enjoying the roller-coaster ride. It was a glorious feeling. But as the incoming swells grew to 10 feet, the captain asked us to come back to the cabin and find a seat because it was going to get bumpy. We all moved away from the front rail, but three of us stayed on the bow with our backs up against the cabin. I can’t speak for the others, but I was having too much fun reliving my childhood to take the danger seriously.
I learned my lesson the hard way: When the skipper tells you to sit down, you sit down. The impact at the trough of a 12-foot swell threw us thrill-seekers to the deck. I wrenched my knee and damaged something in the ball of my foot, and I was soaked. Austin, Don’s excellent deckhand, came up and helped me back to the cabin without judgment. But I knew I’d acted like an idiot.
Humbled, I apologized later to the skipper for failing to heed his warning. And despite the pain, I sucked it up and got out there to put my hook in the water and socialize. I was determined not to let my irresponsible actions ruin everyone else’s day.
And I was pleasantly surprised: As the day progressed and my clothes dried out in the sun and the sea breeze, I learned to enjoy the sport. I got caught up in the excitement of pulling in a good-sized fish; it felt fulfilling.
In the end, I made a few new friends, I caught my limit of seabass, and by golly I got a decent look at a whale on our way back to port!
Most important, I rediscovered my love of the water — and tempered it with some healthy respect.
Kat Bryant is lifestyle editor of The Daily World. Reach her at kbryant@thedailyworld.com or on Facebook at Kat Bryant-DailyWorld.
