The Fishing Trip

Over the holidays, we were fortunate enough to spend a week down in Aruba. Normally, I use this time to lie around like a lox, with the occasional threat by my wife, Lauren, to get off my ass and acknowledge our children’s existence. 1Do lox actually lie around? Is lox even a real fish? I think it’s salmon, but I hate salmon and love lox.

Then, a friend from home who was also down on vacation asked me the following:

A fishing trip? I have no clue how to fish.

So I did what I do in all situations I am on the fence about. I made a list:

Pros:

1. I get to tell people I went fishing and they will be impressed and assume I am worldly
2. I get the morning away from the children
3. A lot will go wrong and I will get writing material out of it

Cons:

1. I have to get up at 6:00 A.M.
2. When I get back, Lauren will definitely stick me with the kids for most of the afternoon
3. I will get wet and smell like fish, and likely get injured in some way

I decided to run it by Lauren.

Lauren: But you don’t know how to fish.

Me: Yes, I do.

Lauren: We’ve been together for 18 years and you’ve never once gone fishing.

Me: I fished a lot before we met.

Lauren: You’re lying. You can’t even change a light bulb. There’s no way you know how to fish.

Me: I feel like I fished once in Brooklyn when I was a kid. I think I brought up some sewage. That might have been a video game though. Or maybe the sewage is a metaphor for something. Remind me to ask my therapist to explore that when we get home.

Lauren: Do you even like going on boats?

Me: Do I like doing anything?

Lauren: You should go though.

Me: You just want the afternoon off?

Lauren: Yes.

I had time to decide, so I did what I do best and put off the decision by blaming Lauren.

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A few hours later

Of course I haven’t decided yet.

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Lauren: Please just go. You never do anything. Doesn’t that bother you?

Me: Yes, that’s what anxious people do. We don’t do anything and we stress about the idea of doing things.

We went for dinner. On the way back, I ran into Evan in the lobby. The only thing I fear more than decision-making is saying “No” to people.

Me: I’m in.

Next Morning – Fishing Boat

Eduardo and Paco, who are basically living the exact opposite life I am, go through the rules of the boat. It’s Eduardo and Paco and the four of us – me, Evan, Evan’s father, and our mutual friend, Brian.

We start out to sea. The waters are choppy.

There are really three kinds of passengers on a boat:

1. The guy who doesn’t care about anything and is drinking beers – Evan’s father
2. The guy who goes with the flow, and is moderately concerned and thus follows instructions – Brian and surprisingly me
3. Evan

Within minutes of leaving, Evan starts to get a glazed look in his eyes.

Me: You okay, man?

Evan: Yeah, I just need to get my sea legs.

5 minutes later

Evan is puking off the side of the boat.

Me: Why is it red? That’s not blood is it?

Brian: He was drinking red Gatorade before.

We’re getting deeper out to sea. Eduardo is hanging off the side of a moving boat with a bucket to grab sea water to wash the floor of the boat deck. 2There’s no way this guy has ever taken Wellbutrin.

Eduardo: Who’s up?

Evan’s father gets in the seat as Eduardo hands him a fishing pole that has begun to bend. Evan’s father puts down his beer on the floor and begins to reel in the fish. After a brief battle, the fish is on the boat and is jumping and fighting, as Eduardo removes the hook from his mouth and throws him into a chest.

I eat cooked fish. I eat sushi. I have never given it a second thought. And yet, when you watch an animal slowly die in front of you, it is quite disturbing.

Evan’s father puts down the fishing pole and picks up his open beer from the floor. Fish guts or ocean water may have gotten into the beer. He doesn’t care as he goes back to drinking it. If it was me, I would start the Z-Pak within three minutes of taking the sip of beer.

My turn is next since Evan is still puking. I’m surprisingly energized by the experience, and not being completely helpless like Evan. It’s as if his struggles have provided me some self-esteem.

Me (in the seat fighting the fish) This is easy. I’m ready to go on Naked and Afraid. The afraid part I would completely dominate.

It is tiring to reel in a fish. After a 30-minute battle (or 4 minutes depending on your method of counting), the fish falls onto the deck of the boat.

Eduardo: A tuna.

Me: A tuna? Aren’t tunas like 500 pounds?

Eduardo: It’s a baby tuna.

Laughs from everyone.

Me: Can we please not tell my wife that I caught a baby tuna? Can we just say tuna?

Brian begins to help Eduardo pull in a rope from the sea that had bait on it.

Me: Why doesn’t that need a fishing pole?

Eduardo: Some fish like barracudas don’t put up a fight and you can just pull them in.3 This surprises me, though I would definitely qualify in this category if aliens from the sky starting fishing humans.

Dock

After more than three hours at sea – we caught 3 baby tunas, 3 Bonito fish, and a Mahi-mahi – we pull in, get off the boat, and Eduardo throws all seven fish onto the dock.

Eduardo: You want to take any?

Evan’s father: The three small tuna.

Eduardo begins to cut up the tuna with a sharp knife likely infested with Ebola.

Eduardo: Anyone want a piece?

Evan’s father accepts a piece and takes a bite along with Eduardo.

Eduardo looks at me:

Me: I’m good. Thanks.4I’d rather be the dead fish.

Back at the hotel

I carry the sliced-up tuna in a Ziploc bag. My five-year-old, Matt, is very upset.

Matt: You killed a fish?

Me: Um…

Lauren: No, the fish was dead already when Dad caught it. Wasn’t it Daddy?

Me: No, I caught a real fish. I’m not going to let her take this away from me.

Matt: Why Daddy? Why would you kill a fish?

Me: Well, we’re going to eat it so it’s okay.

Lauren: There’s no way we’re eating that.

Me: Why can’t we eat a fish that I caught?

Matt: What about his family?

Me: It was a just a baby. Fish have a million babies.

Lauren gives me the stare of death and I realize it was a mistake to tell Matt that I killed a baby.

So I go to my plan B:

Me: It’s like the Lion King, Matt. It’s the circle of life. We eat the fish and then when we die, we turn to grass and the fish eat us.

Matt: Fish don’t eat grass, Daddy.

Me: Well, all the animals eat each other and no one gets upset. Isn’t that right, Mommy?

Matt: Daddy, Mommy left.

Her afternoon off. I forgot. But I just caught a fish to feed my family. Why don’t I get the afternoon off?

My seven-year-old daughter, Liz, walks in.

Matt: Liz, Daddy killed a baby and we’re going to eat it.

Liz: Daddy!

Me: No, not a real baby. I caught a baby fish.

Liz: Daddy, why did you kill a baby fish?

Me: (last resort) No, it was dead already.

Liz: But fish are alive in the ocean.

Me: Not lox. They just lay there in the ocean and wait for you to pick them up to eat.