March of this year, 2022, it will be 21 years that my husband and I have been together. Talk about an adventurous journey!
To say we have had a unique relationship would be an understatement. It astounds me every time I reminisce about our life together. So many adventures I would never have imagined.
I remember a day in the very beginning of our relationship when he had been standing in the doorway of the room I had converted into my hobby/craft room. He looked around at all the books in bookcases, then at the table in the middle of the room where I had started crafting beaded jewelry. Finally, he looked to the corner where I had my yarn and crochet tools, waiting to begin my next afghan.
He had come to the doorway to let me know he was leaving to go fishing for the day. After looking around the room, he said: “I love that you have interests of your own.” I looked at him curiously, wondering what he meant. He followed that with an explanation that his ex-wife had no hobbies and would be bored all the time. He felt he needed to include her in everything he did to keep her entertained. I chuckled and said that most of my childhood, I was told to go outside and play. I learned at an early age how to entertain myself. I laughed when I added, “I even learned how to be amused playing with the box the toy came in.”
A few weeks later, on a beautiful sunny and calm morning, he asked if I would like to go fishing with him. I had gone a few other times but did not fish. I think he was now considering it a challenge to entice me into fishing.
I was about to decline, but seeing the look of anticipation on his face, I could not bring myself to refuse. I agreed to go with him and added that I still did not want to fish. Little did I know this day would be the beginning of another wonderful journey that I had truthfully never seen coming.
As with the last couple of times, I had gone, I went to sit on the floor up at the bow when I got into the boat. He asked that I sit on the bench next to the pedestal seat. Then he asked why I would not sit in the pedestal seat or on the bench? He explained that the pedestal seat was bolted into the bench and was not only sturdy but perfectly safe. I knew it was time to explain why I had such a distrusting attitude towards smaller boats.
When I was about six or seven years old, my younger sister and I were with two of my brothers on a boat with a couple of their friends. The boat was not that large. While it seated four people comfortably, six would be pushing it. Even though my sister and I were still relatively small, there really wasn’t much room on the floor for us. So the friend who owned the boat suggested that my brothers put us both up on top of the boat’s bow. The cover for the bow was made of the same fiberglass as the boat’s exterior. It was pretty slippery. There was a railing around the whole section of the bow, but a person of mine and my sister’s size could easily slip right through. My brothers both told us to hang on tightly to the railing. They assured us both that we would be safe.
The friend who owned the boat started off from the beach where they had launched and kept the speed down to almost an idle. My sister and I both relaxed and began to enjoy the ride. The wind in our faces felt terrific. When the friend left the beach area and the surrounding rocky shoreline, he sped up gradually. When he had reached a seemingly fast speed, he would circle around to run the boat over his own wake, causing the bow to lift up out of the water and slam back down. A great roller coaster ride if you happen to be sitting on the seats in the boat. It was terrifying for my sister and me. Being out with our brothers was not something we often got to do. Since we did not want to draw negative attention to ourselves, we tried very hard to keep quiet about it.
When one of my brothers happened to turn around at a particularly harrowing moment, he saw both my sister and I literally lift off the bow. It was only because we were hanging onto that railing for dear life that we were not thrown into the ocean. He immediately yelled to the driver to slow the boat down. I am not sure if the driver just didn’t hear him or ignored him. Whatever the reason was, he did not slow the craft down until we were close to shore.
After hearing this story, my husband totally understood my reaction and overly cautiousness while in his boat. The first time he saw me sitting on the floor, he asked me if I knew how to swim. I assured him I could. However, you could tell that he did not understand why I would not trust his boating abilities. Now he understood why the only time I would sit in the pedestal seat was when the boat motor was off and
anchored.
He was pleased to see that I was actually sitting on the bench and not the floor this ride, taking note of his understanding and acceptance of how I handled my past fears.
As the spring rolled into summer, I found I accepted more offers to go with him when he went fishing. Being near the water always created such a peaceful feeling inside. Being on the water, I was happy to find it was just as calming. I still did not have any desire to actually fish. While I would eat the fish he caught, he knew it was not my favorite meal. Having explained that my father liked to go fishing often. He would bring home the bluefish or striped bass he caught, which would be our meal. My husband totally understood my dislike for fish. Still, he urged me to at least try his fish. I have to admit the winter and summer flounder he caught was delicious.
On one particular summer day, the weather was absolutely gorgeous! The sky was a beautiful deep blue, no clouds whatsoever, and the wind was a warm and calm breeze. Even the seagulls that could be pretty vocal were peacefully floating on the water around us.
It was probably somewhere in the early afternoon, my husband asked if I could hold his pole while he used the ported potty. Usually, he would put his rod in the pole holder. Instead of asking him why he wasn’t using the rod holder, I took the fishing pole in one hand and continued reading the book I had in my other hand.
Without taking my eyes off the page, I adjusted the pole in my hand to keep the line taut. It took about 30 seconds for me to realize a fish was on the end of the line. While I was by no means experienced in fishing, I knew enough to hold the line as taut as I could to keep the fish on the line. Outwardly I did not react concerning the fish. I knew my husband would be finished shortly. He takes his fishing very seriously, and I love that about him. What went through my mind when I discovered that a fish was on the line were two things. It was odd that the fish was obviously there before my husband handed me the pole because I had felt no bite or bump in the line after it was given to me. And two, my husband never would have handed me the pole had he known there was a fish on that line. That meant that he knew the fish was on the line and that I had obviously been set up!
When about 2 minutes had gone by, and my husband still had not retrieved his pole, I knew I was right about this being a setup. I thought it was a great plan, pretty sneaky too. But I really don’t like being tricked into anything. So, as much as I gave him credit for the plan, I was not going to comply. Mind you, I had not taken my eyes off the book I was reading. My husband had no clue that I knew the fish was there. Until he also realized that the line was not slack, and I had kept it tight the whole time. He said, “You know there is a fish on that line, don’t you?” I answered I did. He asked, “Why don’t you reel it in?” I told him it was his fish, and even I knew you don’t mess with a man and his fishing pole, especially when there is a fish on the line!
I am trying my best to keep a straight face by this time. It was clearly confusing to my husband that the plan of leaving me with a pole that clearly had a fish hooked on the line had not worked. Finally, he said with much-exasperated impatience, “Just reel the damn fish in, will ya!”
I decided that it was time I joined him in at least trying out fishing. I put my book down and took the fishing pole in both hands. I was not expecting what would happen next.
The fish had been tugging on the line the whole time; it did not feel very strong or heavy. I pulled hard on the line to make sure the hook had been set and began to reel the line in. The first couple of turns of the reel handle had been relatively easy. Just as I thought I would have this fish in the boat in no time, the fish figured out that it was hooked and began to fight.
It took me about five minutes to reel, pull, reel, and pull. Finally, the fish was in the boat, and it was I who was now hooked!