Fishing with Dad

By Thalia Ramirez

WHOOSH. I heard my dad, four feet away from me, cast his fishing line into the ocean. My dad looked at me, waiting for me to cast my fishing rod as well. I was scared. What if the hook magically managed to get stuck in my skin? I looked at my dad with fear in my eyes, and he started to laugh. 

“Thalia, everything will be fine. You’re not going to get the hook stuck in you.” 

I nodded, and I managed to muster up the courage to put the fishing rod over my shoulders. I put my left foot out and my right foot in, getting into position myself. I looked back at the fishing rod and saw the fake herring on the hook. I watched the herring dangle back and forth and put in enough power that I could swing the fishing rod like it was a bat. I hoped that the casting line would go far, but instead, it was me who went far. I managed to almost fall to the ground, causing my father to drop his fishing rod in a hurry, trying to catch me. 

As soon as I caught my balance, my dad and I both looked at my fishing rod and saw the herring still rocking back and forth. I slowly looked at my father with a smile of embarrassment. My dad smiled with amusement and put his hand on his face. 

“Thalia…” My dad said slowly, turning his head my way. 

“Yeah?”  I responded, smiling. 

“Y-you never released the reel.” My dad tried to hold in his laughter. 

“Oh!”

My dad and I both laughed at my failed attempt. 

“But I thought I did.” 

My father shook his head, still laughing. 

“No, because if you did, the herring wouldn’t be looking at us.” 

I shrugged my shoulders with amusement. 

The next time, my dad took the fishing rod from me and tried to teach me “the ways of fishing.” I nodded, trying to pay attention, but I was failing miserably due to only having two hours of sleep and a Mountain Dew in my system. I, of course, blamed the Mountain Dew and not the horrible decisions I made a few hours ago. It was currently four o’clock in the morning, which I presume would tell you how dark it was outside.

My dad and I were next to the Washington Bridge and frequently heard cars drive above us. Ahead of us, we saw the bridge lights reflect on the water. The ocean glimmered, and if we were lucky enough to look at the ocean close enough, we sometimes saw the cars pass above us. The moon was slightly gone because of the sunrise that would start soon. My dad and I both heard the seagulls and the pigeons that hid underneath the bridge, waiting for the sky to change. 

As my dad continued to demonstrate to me how to correctly cast the line, I couldn’t help but look at my phone. It was now five o’clock in the morning, and instead of fishing with my dad, he was still teaching me the proper way to cast the line. I felt somewhat bad. My dad was really excited to fish today and catch stripers, but here he was, teaching me how to fish instead. For a split second, I felt like a burden to him. 

“You understand?” 

I looked up at my dad. “Uh, oh yeah, I totally understand.” I nodded, and my dad handed over the fishing rod. 

I put my left foot out and my right foot in. I released the reel and made sure that my thumb pushed against the fishing line. Make sure to release your thumb when you’re ready. You understand? I nodded to myself and made sure the herring was still on the hook. Once I liked my position, I swung the rod slightly, causing the herring to rock back and forth. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. My heart was beating uncontrollably. Butterflies in my stomach were now existent. 

WHOOSH. My dad cast his fishing line into the ocean again. He looked my way and I waved, trying to not make my nervousness obvious. Unfortunately, he saw right through me.  

“How are you doing?”  My dad looked at me while reeling in his fishing line. 

“Horrible. I’m nervous.” I laugh shakily. 

“Mirar.” My dad walked to me after reeling in his fishing line. “Did you get hurt with the hook last time?” 

I shook my head. 

“Then everything will be fine. Believe it, okay?”  

I nodded.

I stood in the same position as before, and my dad backed away from me so I could have space to swing the rod. I breathed in and out, while still holding on to the rod. My dad gave me support from afar and watched my every move. I swung the rod with all my might. PLOOP. I watched my fishing line land in the ocean. 

You know, I imagined it to be more grand than that. My line was no more than six feet away from me.  

“Dad, I did it!” I jumped up and down.   

“Not bad! You just need more force when you swing.” 

I nodded. I was determined to do better. It took no more than ten seconds to reel my line in. I released the line just enough so the herring could dangle. I put my left foot out and my right foot in. As I stood in my position, I closed my eyes and breathed in and out. 

WHOOSH. My dad had cast his fishing line again. Everything will be alright. I opened my eyes and started to swing the fishing rod back and forth. By the third swing, I released my thumb from the fishing line and cast it into the ocean. I watched the line go into the ocean, and then I started to reel in my line. Excitement washed over me. I was no longer scared of the hook. 

But of course, I had another obstacle to overcome. I needed to cast my fishing line further than six feet. WHOOSH. I looked at my dad as he cast his line into the ocean once again. I wonder how he did that? 

“Dad?” I looked in my dad’s direction. 

“Yeah?” My dad turned his head to face me. 

“How are you doing that?” 

He looked at me with confusion. “Doing what?” 

I laugh and explain further. “How do you cast your fishing line that far?” 

My dad faced the ocean again and continued to reel in his line. 

“You need to put more strength when you cast your line.” Once my dad was done reeling in his line and putting his fishing rod on the rock next to him, he walked over to me again.  

My dad took my fishing rod and started to demonstrate. I nodded and watched carefully. Once he had demonstrated, I took the fishing rod from him and tried my best to put more strength into my throw. My dad went back to his area and cast his line again, hoping just maybe that he’d be able to catch a striper that was at least thirty inches.

I get into the same position as before and try to cast my fishing line further than before. PLOOP. Six feet again. Second attempt. PLOOP. Six feet again. Third attempt. PLOOP. Six feet, yet again. From the right side of me, I heard an audible laugh. I hoped that it was a seagull laughing at my failed attempts, but it was not. It was my father. 

“Dad!” I said dramatically

“I’m sorry!” My dad continued to laugh at me. 

“You know, you’re supposed to be encouraging me.” 

My dad was still laughing. “Ok, ok, you’ll get better.” 

I nodded and slightly smiled. 

I tried again. I failed miserably, again. I felt myself getting frustrated. I didn’t understand how hard fishing truly was until I had tried it out for myself. At this point I had only one goal: just cast the line more than six feet. I had put my left foot out and my right foot in, yet again. I made sure the fishing rod was above my right shoulder, and made sure my thumb was on the line. I released the reel and I swung the fishing rod back and forth. Once I felt confident enough, I cast the line into the ocean. I saw the fishing line six feet away from me, again. I was slowly losing my patience. 

WHOOSH. My dad cast his line again for the millionth time today. A part of me wanted to ask how my dad was so patient, but then I remembered the conversation we had earlier in the car. 

“Hey, dad?” 

“Yeah.”

“Why do you enjoy fishing?” 

“Because of the thrill and the peace that comes with it. You never know what you’re going to get.” 

I couldn’t help but smile to myself. I think I now understood what my dad meant. My dad had come in with the expectation that he may not catch anything today, and that was okay.  

I breathed in and out, trying not to let my anger get the best of me, and I tried to put myself in my dad’s shoes. I continued to fish like normal. PLOOP. My line only went six feet again. I sighed. Maybe, just maybe, I will get better one day. 

“Make any improvements?” 

I smiled and shook my head at my dad.

“Don’t worry you’ll get better.” 

I nodded. “I hope so.” 

My dad went back to casting his line. 

I put my left foot out and my right foot in. I made sure the fishing rod was over my shoulders and the reel was released. My thumb held tight onto the fishing line. I closed my eyes. 

“Don’t think about it, just cast the line.” 

I opened my eyes and looked at my father. “Okay I’ll try.” I nodded my head and turned away from my dad. 

It was just the ocean and me. I breathed in and out, and started to swing my rod back and forth yet again. In my peripheral vision, I had spotted my dad watching my every movement with his arms crossed. I tried to block out his presence and prepared myself. I first made sure that I was in position and my herring had enough hang time. I breathed in and out yet again, and cast my line into the ocean. 

I did it. My line made it pass the dock. I jump up and down from excitement! 

“Dad! I did it.” 

My dad laughed and clapped his hands. “See, you just have to stop overthinking.” 

I sighed dramatically.“But, I can’t help it.” 

My dad nodded his head still laughing. 

“You just never know what you’re going to get.” 

Everything seemed much brighter. For the first time, I started to notice other things around me. It was so much brighter outside. I checked my phone, and the time was 6:30 a.m. I looked over to my right and did not see the seagulls underneath the bridge. There were a few pigeons that still sat on the top of the hedge underneath, but most of them were gone. I saw a car stop underneath the bridge, and in the car was a lady who looked to be in her thirties, holding her very own fishing rod. 

Even though my dad and I were no longer alone, there was still a sense of peace that surrounded us. From a distance, we heard the seagulls and the ocean waves. Now, we heard cars beeping on the Washington Bridge, trying to make it to work on time. 

Expect the unexpected. 

I now understood that, although my dad and I were not able to catch stripers today, we were both able to bond with each other, and I was able to grow more patience than I once had. 

“Thalia.” 

I looked at my dad. 

“Yeah?” 

My dad was undoing his fishing rod. “Are you ready to go?” My dad started to unzip his fishing backpack.

“Yeah, I am.” I walk over to my dad and helped him pack up.

Thalia Ramirez is a creative writing major minoring in film studies from Providence, Rhode Island. Writing is a passion of Thalia's, and she hopes to further herself as a writer. Thalia focuses on fiction but decided to step out of her comfort zone and create a non-fiction piece called "Fishing with Dad" and hopes that everyone will see the passion she has in her writing while reading her short piece.