My Godson Jamie yesterday had his much anticipated mackerel birthday fishing trip. He had been looking forward to this for ages but so volatile has been the weather that I worried it may be adjourned. The old boy who sold the ticket and might have benefited from a course in customer service did his best to put a dampener (literally) as he said the waters were choppy and Jamie might remember his birthday for the wrong reasons. There was some debate whether we proceed but my ghillie, his mother and I formed the view that he shouldn’t be disappointed.
We duly boarded the vessel which was already occupied by a dozen Albanian fishermen. I did wonder if they had used a boat before to arrive on these shores but kept my comments to myself. In fact they were perfectly civil as were a young family of four complete with dog who seems totally relaxed at sea. Although I have been invited to fish on the Test and once went mano v mano with a baby shark off the coast at Durban, this was my first ever mackerel trip. The boat did indeed swell as we cast our lines but it was hardly force ten. Little Jamie is at an age where he maintains a constant commentary on life: “there does not seem much happening down below” he observed. Not a single fish had been caught by the boat. His hopes of giving a mackerel for my cat whose birthday it was too were proving forlorn. Still his enthusiasm was infectious. There is great life force about little children yet to be beaten by the travails of life, their boundless excitement and enthusiasm for every new experiences and appreciation for being afforded it. There was a lack of tuition, the crew of two on the ship did nothing to enhance his experience, the boat rocked but never mind Jamie did not draw breath as he gave out more slack on the line, cast the fishing rod up and down and did his best to land a mackerel.
Personally I cannot understand the joys of fishing. Why spend good time cold and wet by the river bank or at sea in the pursuit of a fish?