Fishing

For many years, my parents had two boats. One, Tiempo, was an Amel Mango, which we sailed at different times all over on both sides of the Atlantic. We went from the Outer Hebrides down the European coast and over to Grenada, where my parents lived. We sailed all around Venezuela, the Grenadines, throughout the Caribbean islands, and most notably spent two months in Cuba. A few years later we set off from Grenada up to the east coast of Canada, where they spent a summer in Newfoundland.

The second boat was a Grand Banks trawler called Otter One, on the west coast of British Columbia. Every summer, with friends and family, they would slowly journey from Vancouver to Alaska and back again.

So, this is my long-winded way of saying: we spent a lot of time on boats. And wherever we were, we always fished.

We were not like the sport fishermen who came roaring out on charter boats with shiny gear, eager to catch as many fish as they could, as quickly as possible. We had no interest in measuring or bragging. We had a roll of nylon thread with a neon pink plastic squid and hook, which we trailed behind us from the stern. With this humble setup, we still managed plenty of tuna, dorade or gilthead sea bream, and swordfish.

We also kept a few plain rods and tackle on board. Once anchored for the afternoon, we’d toss a line over the side and see what happened. On Tiempo, it might be grouper or red snapper. On Otter One, we often found salmon on the other end.

And if someone was lucky, since I was the cook, it fell to me to take over. I’d pour a shot of Dave's gin in the gills to kill it, clean it, wash down the deck, and head below to the galley. A few potatoes went on the top cooker, the fish went into the small oven, and whatever fresh vegetables we still had would end up scattered on top. Simple, perfect.

Fishing was part of our daily rhythm. Not a sport, not a competition, just a way to gather something delicious for dinner and, perhaps without realizing it, to weave ourselves a little more into the life of the sea.

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