It was the 26th of March, and we had excitedly, albeit wearily, arrived; concluding twelve excruciatingly long hours of travel. However, my father and I had one thing in mind, to land a powerful saltwater game fish. Despite the previous year in Hawaii where we had caught only miniscule lizard fish, we were determined to change our fishing fortune in Puerto Aventuras, Mexico.
For the next several days we exuberantly cast our lines, with mixed results, from every beach, canal, and pier within range of our rattletrap golf cart. Once, when casting off the rocky point, I briefly hooked then lost a mysterious creature powerful enough to leave me with a cracked lure. Another exhilarating moment occurred when from atop the breakwater I glimpsed
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Necessitated by the previous events, we embarked upon an eight-hour adventure to the city to re-supply our tackle. At this point we were becoming desperate.
Although it was April Fool’s day, our luck was about to change. As we approached the mouth of the canal, we began to discern silver flashes just beneath the calm, flat, surface. Thinking this was only the twinkling of sunlight on water, we disregarded the occurrence, until suddenly, the flashes streaked right past us! They were mullet, which swam past us and defensively balled up in the center of the canal, indicating something was coming. For a while there were only odd wakes at the end of the canal. Then, as they got closer we quickly realized that they were bow wakes, though not of a boat, nor of a ship, but wakes of the allusive Jack Crevalle! We counted the dark blue backs of seven Jacks swimming in a V formation, using their large foreheads to displace a sizable wake that crashed against the concrete canal walls. Suddenly, the Jacks charged, split, and cornered the mullet causing a magnificent eruption of small, silver fish! These mullets had only one way of escape; up! Thus causing a spectacle of
Since three-forth of the world is composed of bodies of water, it’s natural that a great number of people rely on fishing for their livelyhood or just for their recreation needs. There are numerous of fish species swimming under the lakes, seas, ponds, and rivers. Most anglers consider fishing as the delight in their purpose-driven life, a sport, as they say.
The goal in those days was to catch a double. (God! don't times change - now you're nobody until you've had a 40!) I was being pestered by bream that night, and had already landed two of quite reasonable size. What with that, the full moon, and the wind rattling the trees and bushes, I was having great difficulty in getting any sleep - which was crucial as I had to go to work the next day. It was one of those spooky nights, and each time I closed my eyes I was forced to open them again to investigate a sound which just may have been something nasty! But virtually on the stroke of midnight the wind suddenly dropped, and all the clouds cleared away from the moon. The lake went flat calm, and it was obvious something was about to happen. I sat up on the bedchair a little frightened. Out in the lake a carp rolled over the bait. It was so light I could tell it was a common, and it looked quite big. The whole scene was so weird and dreamlike I really did pinch myself to see if I was awake. I was, and became even more so when I heard the slight click of the contacts coming together on the bite alarm, followed by the weary buzzing of the bell - a noise both horrible and exciting. I struck with little enthusiasm, expecting another bream. It soon became apparent that this was not a bream, and after a long and thrilling fight on my old cane Sealey octofloat I was opening the folds of the
The Hero’s Journey is a basic template utilized by writers everywhere. Joseph Campbell, an American scholar, analyzed an abundance of myths and literature and decided that almost all of them followed a template that has around twelve steps. He would call these steps the Hero’s Journey. The steps to the Hero’s Journey are a hero is born into ordinary circumstances, call to adventure/action, refusal of call, a push to go on the journey, aid by mentor, a crossing of the threshold, the hero is tested, defeat of a villain, possible prize, hero goes home. The Hero’s Journey is more or less the same journey every time. It is a circular pattern used in stories or myths.
The subsequent description of the cod’s historical significance served to relay the economical and cultural importance of this fish, or rather the instrumental value of the fish. The...
My friend had invited me along with him and his family to the ocean. It was vacation for the family, but for him and me it was the beginning of a week of serious business. We had an obsessive hobby to pursue. As avid and long-term freshwater fisherman, we were thrilled by the thought of catching those large and exotic saltwater fish we had seen on television a billion times before. Yet little did we expect there to be such vast differences between our freshwater fishing and the saltwater fishing, which we were about to pursue. We learned through trial and much error that in order to have a successful saltwater fishing experience we had to make adjustments to all the freshwater tackle, tactics, and gear we knew.
Joseph Campbell studied ancient greek mythology for many years. Joseph filled each stage of the journey very well. He accepted all the challenges he got and all the help he needed. He really knew how to fulfill all those stages. Like everyone goes through a heroic journey everyone has to have a story to tell. My story is very contrasty from Joseph’s because he really knew what all the stages meant. My hero's journey consists of my threshold crossing which was when I started depending on myself more than I did on others, my helpers/mentors like my parents, teachers,my sister and many more influential people in my life and my rewards were getting awards in school, having a nice family, and many friends.
The point of the lionfish derby was to shoot lionfish for cash prizes. The prizes ranged from $1,000 for the largest amount of fish shot and $500 prizes for the largest and smallest lionfish shot. There were also $1 prizes for each fish caught. With a handful of boats sailing into the ocean, Safina explains the roughness of the Gulf Stream current and how it was difficult to spear lionfish compared to the locals who had better experience with where the red lionfish were located and managed to spear 1,000 fish in the hunt. Safina reminds the reader that the derby was helpful for the native-fish in those local reef populations and made for a delicious feast, but the lionfish are unfortunately still a big
There is an indescribable felling that occurs at Horseshoe Lake. It is a feeling of mild comfort and much needed relaxation mixed with exhilaration. The comfort comes from the light breeze, which quickly comes and goes while you are fishing. It is this breeze that allows your fishing line to float one way or another, thus doing the luring for you. The tall oak trees provide shade that prevents you f...
Shortly after Santiago catches the fish, he realizes how far he has gone out, and how much
Dr. D is a cardiothoracic surgeon. He was my hero. He may well still be, even though he is a throw-back to the days when I was more concerned about science than symbolism.
2. Castro, Jose. THe Sharks of the North American Waters. Texas Univerisity Press: US, 1983.
On the 85th day of his unlucky streak, the old man says goodbye to Manolin at the beach, and rows far out into the Gulf Stream. After he is out into the deep water and has caught a tuna for bait, he feels a large fish on the end of his line. The fish is a large, powerful marlin, and it drags the boat out further into the ocean. Santiago struggles with the fish all night, as he is dragged out to the point where he can’t see the lights o...
“Hurry, Dad, grab the camera,” I yelled excitedly. I was a timid 9-year-old boy and my dad planned a week long fishing trip in Canada. I had gone fishing only one time before and to my dismay, no fish were biting my bait, despite being on the rocky boat for five long hours. This time would be different as I travel up north and my dad told me that Canada offered great fishing. The first fishing lodge we visited was very nice and we brought in about 30 fish a day. My biggest fish was about 25 inches. It was a Northern Pike that was slimy and had a brown dirty color. I had a wonderful time at my first fishing resort in Canada with my dad. One year later and one of my dad’s friends suggested a different fishing resort in Canada that was even further
Santiago hooked a marvelous marlin. The sea remained seemingly calm as Santiago battled with the fish. The sea also allowed Santiago to get energy and strength for his hand by giving him a fish to consume. The sea holds all past and future catches of Santiago.
The wind hummed past my head, and I noticed off to my side that the sky was starting to clear and that the water surrounding me was becoming a brighter shade of blue. The features of my destination were quickly becoming more distinguishable with each second that passed. Only fifteen minutes before, the features coming into view had appeared as small white dots across the horizon. Looking at my small digital watch, I noticed that the time was 3:45 p.m., five minutes away from the island of Islesboro. The voyage across Penobscot Bay to Islesboro was one of excitement for me.