A New Hobby? Maybe.

“What’s up man? Whatcha been up to?” the voice on the phone asks. It’s my brother-in-law, Cain.

“Aw, nothing really. I’ve got finals coming up next week. Been studying some and writing papers. What’s been happening on your side of the bay?” I answer. I’m not really sure how to talk with him on the phone. He’s only four years older than me, and he’s a cool guy. It’s just that there is a feeling of discomfort; of not knowing how “chummy” to be.

“Not much really. Just been working. You know, the usual. Listen, I was going to take the boat out on Sunday. You feel like fishing?”

Fishing? Great. I’m terrible at fishing. Cain knows this too. Every time he’s handed me a fishing pole in the last three years, I’ve handed it straight back to him within the hour; a seemingly unfixable mess of tangled fishing line. Is this some kind of joke? I wonder if he just needs a good laugh.

“Sure. What time do you want to go?” I answer after a few minutes of mentally reviewing my empty schedule. Regardless of how terrible I am at fishing, I can’t help but jump at the opportunity to get out on the open water. I’ve always loved the coast because of the ocean. If nothing else, at least I can relax and enjoy the ocean, maybe even get that first sunburn of the summer that will eventually turn into a tan.

“I was thinking early Sunday morning. Leave about 5:00 or so. I want to get out into the bay and see how active the fish are. It’s not really time for a whole lot of activity, but if we get on a line, we’ll be throwing ‘em in the box all day.”

What in the world is he talking about? Lines, boxes. I remember that this is a hobby I know nothing about, and like any other hobby, this one has its own language. I’m really going to have to pay attention, just in case any of his friends meet us out on the open water. I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself my describing something as a “thingy”.

“Sounds good man. I’ll drive over Saturday night if that’s cool. That way we can just wake up and leave.” As I hang up the phone, I notice my excitement. I need this. I need something to be excited about.

Saturday comes and it’s almost the longest day of my entire life. As the week has slowly rolled past, I’ve become more and more excited about the boat trip. I know I’m going to do horrible, but Cain seemed to be pretty confident I would catch something. The last three things I’ve caught in his presence were logs, trees, and a ticket for not having a fishing license. Fun stuff.

As Saturday’s sun slowly disappears in the rearview mirror, I can barely contain my excitement. I’m headed to Fairhope on I-10. I’ve got a bag of clothes including swimming shorts and a shirt with a fish on it. It’s tropical. I’ve never even worn it, but this looks like just as good a time as any. I pause, smirking, imagining myself in full saltwater fishing gear. Would I stick out like a sore thumb, as the first-timer with all the gear from the magazines? I get the vision of the Hawaiian shirt and sun hat wearing tourist. Hopefully I won’t look that ridiculous. Hopefully it won’t be that obvious.

When I arrive at my sister’s house, I have to tell myself to stay calm. ‘Don’t look too excited. Stay cool.’ Cain’s already been to a bait shop to pick up live bait. Live shrimp are swimming and jumping around a large ice chest with some kind of oxygen device on it.

“This is how you’re going to catch something,” Cain says, appearing from the bottom of the steps. “You’ll get the hang of fishing the more you do it, but anybody can catch a fish with live bait.” Anybody? I’m pretty bad. I keep this to myself even though I know that Cain already knows this.

I spend the rest of the night watching the NFL draft with Cain and talking to my sister about potential girlfriends she wants me to meet. It’s pretty hilarious that my sister is trying to set me up. Looks like I might have to be a really good boy with her picks. They’re all ultra “good girls”. It might be a good thing, considering the trouble I’ve gotten into with the last couple of girls I’ve picked out.

I finally go to bed, but I can’t help but stay awake, nervous, and excited about fishing. I can’t remember feeling like this since my childhood Christmases. It’s really funny that I feel this way. Fishing is something I’ve seen in the past as a redneck activity. Somehow, going out on the boat in the ocean, and not the river, makes it ok. Maybe I’m just ready to finally do things that men from the south do. I’ve never really fished or hunted. Maybe I’m just ready to embrace my southern manhood. Maybe I’m just tired of not having friends, and this gives me something to do with another human being. Maybe I should just focus on trying to get some sleep.

5:00 comes early. Lately I’ve been having dreams where policemen shoot tazors at me and I have to dodge them and run. Cain grabbed my foot just as a policeman from my dreams was closing in. I must have jumped 3 feet in the air. My eyes are all blurry as I focus and try to understand reality. It’s finally here.

“You ready there ol’ buddy?” Cain smiles. It must have been funny to see me jump like that.

“Yeah, let me jump in the shower. I’m glad you woke me up. That was a close one.”

It takes me all of five minutes to shower. I jump out and put on my swim shorts and fish-covered shirt. It looks like some kind of marlin on the front. The mirror isn’t too harsh. I don’t look like a tourist. This outfit looks like something I could wear all the time. Maybe I would if the marlin was swinging a big electric guitar around. I don’t know.

As I walk down the hall, the smell of fresh coffee hits me in mid-stride. Nice. Cain showered faster than I did. He must be just as excited to hit the water, maybe more. Two hot pop-tarts and a mug await me. Breakfast of champions. I fill the mug with coffee, sugar, and cream, grab the pop-tarts, and share a brief smile with Cain. We are both excited about fishing today. Without saying a word, we both walk toward the boat.
Cain and my sister live right on the water, so the boat is docked at the bottom of the hill. It’s very early in the morning. The sun is up, but it is so far in the distance that there is barely any light, and it’s pretty cold. I turn around to see that Cain isn’t stirring the boat. I’m not frightened at all, because we are pretty much headed in a straight line for an opening in the bay. He turns to smile with his hands in his pockets.

“Auto-pilot!” he yells. He has to yell. The wind is so loud that I would have to rely completely on lip-reading. He grabs the wheel and slows the boat down. As we enter into the bay he points into the distance.

“Check ‘em out. They swim through this area every morning. The water is only about 3 feet deep here, and when boats come through, the stir up the floor. Every time I come through here they are digging on the bottom for something to eat. Look at all those tails!”
At first, it’s difficult for me to understand what he’s talking about. He’s pointing pretty far off in the distance, but I can see something, I just don’t know what it is. Just as I give him a stock reply of mock understanding, they come into focus. Dolphins? There must be twenty of them; all face down with their tales sticking four feet out of the water. It looks like they’re waving to me.

“They’re here every single time you go fishing in the morning?” I ask. My excitement is obvious.

“Yeah, I don’t know what they are looking for, but whatever it is, they look for it every morning.”

I never knew there were this many dolphins in Mobile Bay. The site really is unbelievable. I can see that we only slowed down to make sure we didn’t hit one of them. I don’t really want to leave this scene.

“Should we just fish here? What kinds of fish are around here?” I ask, hoping to stay and watch the dolphins for a while.

“None. If you see dolphins around, you definitely aren’t going to catch much of anything. Most of the time, the dolphins are fishing for the same thing we are.” He turns back to the water, accelerating. I smile to myself and think, ‘Well, if I don’t catch a single fish, this whole trip will be worth it, just for the site of those dolphins in the early morning sunrise.’ I pause shortly and think, ‘Would a manly man have just had that reaction to dolphins?’ It’s hard to say. I don’t see how anyone could see that site for the first time without having some kind reaction. It leaves me feeling closer to nature; closer to the ocean. I’m definitely ready to fish.

As soon as we pull up to an oilrig out on the Western Side of the bay, we start fumbling through the poles. Four poles are quickly baited with the live shrimp, floats, and weights. Cain hands me a pole and explains that it will be easier for me to cast IT.

“This one doesn’t rely on you knowing what you’re doing. Once you’ve got this one where you want it in the water, grab this one,” he points to another rod and reel. “It’s the same kind you messed up the last time we were fishing in Jackson.”
Great. He remembers. He doesn’t seem to be holding it against me.

“Ok, before I even start this time, explain how to properly cast this thing. I think part of the reason I’ve messed it up in the past is that I don’t really know the purpose of any of these buttons, or what I’m even doing period.” Being completely honest feels much better than repeatedly messing up and making Cain stop fishing to help me. He doesn’t seem to mind explaining it to me.

“Well this reel is open like this, so you can drop it in a specific place. You have more control over how much line comes out, because you have stop the line with your thumb. The trick is to cast it with a smooth, sweeping motion. You can cast it really far, but you always want to stop it with your thumb before it hits the water. If not, it will backlash and look like a big jumbled mess…like last time.” We both laugh. I understand. It’s time for me to finally fish; to really fish.
For hours, we rotate around the boat. Checking lines, reeling fish in, recasting, and grabbing the net. We catch more fish than I’ve ever caught. Cain repeatedly says that it’s a slow day.

“You’ll have to come back out once it gets a bit hotter. The fish aren’t really hittin’ right now. Normally we’d have a box full by now,” he points at the cooler. That must be what box means.

“Absolutely, man. Anytime you want to go, just give me a call. I’m up for it anytime. Today’s been fun man.” I smile. I don’t care how excited I must sound. Fishing IS fun. Maybe I can finally have something in common with my brother-in-law.

We both put shirts on for the trip back home. We’ve been in the sun for about 7 hours now. Sunburn. I’m completely worn out from the sun AND the fish. The entire day in general has worn me out. The growling sound of the boat’s engine takes us back into the bay. The constant motion almost rocks me to sleep. What a beautiful day to fish. What a beautiful day.