Friends are my most treasured catch
If asked what I value more than anything else, except of course my family, the answer would be friends.
I stay in regular touch with many of my high school pals and even some buds that go back further than that. I may have trouble remembering what I did yesterday, or even an hour ago, but my experiences with these old acquaintances are so vivid I can recite certain days we shared like they happened moments ago.
Not all these experiences revolve around fishing, but — after thinking about it — many do. My memories tend to involve fishing or a lazy day on the water. I know some of you think I’m a charter fisherman or a lucky duck who gets to fish every day, but I’m actually a graphic designer. I’ve had an ad agency for decades, and it wasn’t until my two kids made it out of college that I began rethinking my priorities.
I decided to start a part-time business guiding folks in their boats so they could learn our waters and how to fish them — without pitfalls like waiting five hours for the tide to rise so you can get off a sandbar that magically got in your way.
Having visited new areas with fishing in mind, I understood how difficult it could be. What bait works best? Is there an area that I should watch out for? You worry so much about what might happen, it takes the fun out of fishing. I would find myself looking over my shoulder the entire time, and by the time I made it back to the dock, I’d be exhausted. I thought: If only I could find a knowledgeable local that could ride along with me just once, then I might feel more comfortable next time.
When that thought zipped through my head, it was a eureka moment. I love meeting new people and I like helping people, so this was just the ticket.
I never expected nor wanted this to be a full-time thing, because I feared it would make fishing a chore instead of a passion. But since I have been helping new boat owners learn the ropes of fishing and understanding our waters, I have made friends that are sure to last a lifetime.
Hopping on and off boats that range from 18 to 55 feet, I get as much out of these excursions as they do. I have had to learn every kind of GPS there is, and before I get on the boat, I ask a series of questions that can make the difference between success and failure — small things like live wells, rod holders, an anchor and a fishing license.
Many of my regulars are part-time residents here, so I never know when they are going to pop into town. One longtime friend, Dan Cornell, lives in Atlanta, and we have fished together for years now. I was originally contacted by his wife after his first boat purchase, and our relationship has gone from guide-and-fisherman to great friends.
I am the official scapegoat to his wife for convincing him to upgrade his smaller boat to a bigger boat, and then another even larger boat. But you know what? I’m used to having wives of my fishing pals blame me for their husband’s passion for fishing and, in the process, spending less time with them.
This week, I got a call from a George Norton over at Haig Point on Daufuskie Island. With a distinctive Kentucky drawl, he told me he had never been offshore in his boat — would I guide him and help him land a cobia? I told him I would do it, but only if he kept one small male and released any others we might catch. Having taken only one cobia in the past 2 1/2 years, I headed out with him.
The ocean was flat clam, and the water so clear it was like an aquarium. We hadn’t fished for 30 seconds before we hooked two cobia. He kept a small male, but in all we probably released another six or seven in an hour’s time.
It was constant action, but he understood it’s not how many fish you catch but the total experience. He got to see the best the ocean had to offer, and I have a feeling I can add him to my list of lifelong friends.
Even if I never catch another fish, friends are the most treasured catch of my life.
This story was originally published May 28, 2016 at 3:05 PM with the headline "Friends are my most treasured catch."