The healing sea: Estranged brothers reconnect on a fishing boat trolling the Lowcountry
It seems most folks my age come from large families. I am the youngest of five, with two children of my own. I can’t imagine being responsible for feeding five hungry kids, sending them to college and handling the thousands of other responsibilities my parents incurred.
Being brutally honest, if the tables were turned and I were raising me, the baby of the family, I would have considered jumping off the tallest building around. I am surprised my mom and dad didn’t consider dropping me off at a place like South of the Border and speeding off, leaving me to my own devices.
No doubt you are wondering why I am talking about family, but something happened lately that brought warm thoughts during this extremely weird period dominated by elections and Covid 19.
I am from the population segment that wears masks all the time and has numerous bottles of Purrell stashed in my house, car, tackle box and any other place where I might encounter people. This pandemic saddens me because overall, I am a people person. It kills me to decline invitations to fish with newcomers to the area who call, asking me to show them the ropes for successful angling outings. Not knowing whether they take precautions as seriously as I do, I just can’t risk it.
This caution seeps into hanging out with members of my own family. But after six or so months of this, I had to find a way to see family in person instead of on Zoom or Facetime.
Last month, I had an incredible week with my daughter, a doctor, along with my grandchildren. But all of us got tested first. It was so great! It was as if I had been holding my breath for months and was finally able to exhale and breath in sweet, fresh air.
Since that worked out so well, I proposed the same to two siblings: Grace, from Melbourne, Florida, and my brother Dan from Saluda, North Carolina. Grace and I had seen each other on a regular basis the past few years, but Dan and I had not seen one another in nearly four years.
I don’t think this long absence is all that odd for large families. Many friends who come from large families tell me that they, too, have one or more siblings that, for whatever reason, are simply not in their lives. But family is so important to me that when Dan said he would get tested and come down, I was shocked and excited. It was our chance to reconnect, and I was going to do whatever I could to make our reacquaintance the beginning of a new, lasting relationship.
My brother was initially a marine biologist before opening a massive retail nursery outside of Atlanta that offered rare and unusual plants, but he has retired to the North Carolina mountains. I decided there was only one place that might guarantee a successful gathering: The ocean. We had fished a lot together growing up, but as often happens when kids, wives and different professions enter the picture, relationships that had been rock solid become disrupted.
I wanted my brother back.
Our first outing in my boat completely blew the mind of my brother, who is way more cerebral than clownish me. Even though we both grew up here, time faded certain memories of our adventures on the water. The marine biologist in him immediately popped out as he filled a glass of salt water and saw the thousands of tiny organisms in that one cup that are the soup of life in our waters.
Add to that friendly dolphins begging boatside, manatees, redfish, trout, flounder and gobs of shrimp, and his eyes filled with amazement. Over and over he told me that living here and spending so much time on the water made me the luckiest man on earth. I even sensed a regret that he had moved away from such a wondrous place.
With a cooler full of fish and shrimp, he headed home — but not until he’d bought a three-year S.C. saltwater license.
That told me two things. He will be coming back to fish with me. Most importantly, I have my brother back. Giving credit where it is due, I owe it all to the ocean, a place that just keeps on giving in the most amazing ways.