My dad liked to fish. Being the good father that he was, he introduced me to the sport when I was 5 or 6. I remember catching a catfish out of Vancouver Lake as my first trophy.
He really liked to catch salmon. Unfortunately that meant pursuing them on the high seas. I wonder why they are termed “high seas” when “low swells” are half of the equation. That high-low punch induced a nauseating effect, commonly known as seasickness, on most of my family members, including my father.
A common antidote is a product called Dramamine. It didn’t help me. In fact, the last time I went deep-sea fishing with him, the first thing I launched into the water was the boat — but the second was the Dramamine, on the way to Buoy 10. I swore off the ocean that day. I was 16.
It was about 15 years later that my brother-in-law took me salmon fishing on the Columbia River. Click — it registered that the salmon come up the river, out of the ocean and its motion.
Fast (or slow) forward a few decades to a Hawaiian vacation with my wife, Sue. OK, it’s a vacation for her. She gets to pursue her favorite pastimes: shopping for the grandchild and bronzing her body. My body is a shade-seeking missile and I find Hawaii hot, muggy and too expensive to play golf.