rainy day: reprise

i used to go fishing with my dad all the time. one of the places we would fish was a river, running though Parksville. we would catch salmon the length of my arm. we would go to lakes, trying to catch things, but would always take hours longer. there a lot more prohibition on fish these days, making the good ol' father son fishing trips much less fun.

we would go fishing in the ocean, between the harbor of Nanaimo and Snake Island, a rock where the sea lions called home. i would never catch anything, but my dad would get red snappers, with sharp fins that scared me. i was always the one afraid to kill the fish, and clean it.

i had this sushi last week, that tasted like the dock where we used to clean our fish, a block away from the greasy pub where i worked, and the house i lived in, last summer.

there was one time my brother was trying to reel in a trout, out of dam with an undertow. he was standing on a big rock when his line snapped and he fell off. that always makes me laugh.

the last time i went fishing was in Tofino. we charted a commercial fishing boat, hoping to catch some halibut for dinner. i was cold the entire time, because i was only wearing a hoodie, and i could only see 100 meters away from the boat because it was overcast and foggy. i only had about two tugs on my line the entire time. only once did i feel the exciting rush of having a fish on my line, the rush which every man should feel at least once in his lifetime. most of the time the only thing i could catch was fishing lines of other people, and the one fish i caught was too small to keep.

dinner that night was potatoes and, store-bought cereal. alas.

well, those are some of my most loved fishing stories. i have not gone fishing in a long long time. it almost feels depressing. fishing is like a part of me, being that i'm from BC. its a part of my heritage, being able to catch dinner. oh well.