FAMILY MATTERS
For a day, the one that didn't get away
By Michael DeMattos
My wife gently eased the papio back into the receding tide and I was left to wonder at her success. I slowly walked over to her, peering through salt-crusted sunglasses, careful not to disturb the water. After releasing the fish, she adjusted her lure so that it sat on the hook just right.
"Whatcha using?" I asked.
"Pink with silver sparkle," she answered.
Before we had our daughter, my wife and I would frequently spend our weekends walking the coastline with fishing rods in hand. It was a special time that did not need words to be meaningful. Sometimes, if the fates allowed, we would hook into a fish or two.
Our fishing forays together dwindled following our daughter's birth. Trips to the beach turned into family picnics. Every once in a while we would get a chance to fish, but not together. One of us had to watch our baby while the other wet a line. Truth be told, it was frequently I who fished while she took care of our daughter. I am forever indebted to her for this.
My wife likes to fish. I need to fish.
As my daughter has grown, I have taught her to swim, and more recently, to fish. She has taken to angling, which is a source of pride for me. Our family days at the beach are fun, but sometimes I long for a simpler time and a quiet stroll along the coast with my wife.
It was for this reason that we planned our daylong fishing trip. We would forgo the usual "dinner and a movie" routine and instead set our sights on a day at the beach. We had a sitter for eight potentially undisturbed hours. We got to the site, donned our gear, and after a quick kiss we made our casts. We slowly worked the sea strand, our lures darting left and right just below the surface.
It did not take long for my wife to "get on the boards." The papio was small but feisty and even took out a little line. No sooner had she released the first fish than she took another hit. Then there was a third and a fourth. It was not until she released her fifth fish that I actually got a strike.
That she would outfish me is not surprising. She is a good angler with solid fundamentals. There is neither rush nor hurry to her fishing. She is not concerned about the amount or size of her catch. The fishing is enough.
This is a life lesson that I am only learning now.
"What made you choose pink with silver sparkle?" I asked.
"It matches my hat," she replied.
I smiled and, swallowing my pride, did what every good angler does in this situation.
"Got any more of those?" I queried.
"Sure," she said, as she handed me a few of the shiny lures.
The sea swallowed the sun, and the final tally was in. Seventeen fish were caught and released between the two of us, and the past was revisited. We did not stay long, just long enough to renew a friendship and make a new memory.
For those who were counting, I caught and released five papio.
Michael C. DeMattos has a master's degree in social work. He is a family therapist, educator, trainer, storyteller and angler, and lives in Kane'ohe with his wife and 5-year-old daughter. Reach him at: Family Matters, Island Life, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; fax 525-8055; or e-mail ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com.
