"Just an Old Plywood Boat"

"Just an old plywood boat"

    "It was painted red, the stripe was white, it was 18 feet from the bow to stern light, second hand from a dealer in Atlanta," so harmonizes Alan Jackson as he describes his first boat, a boat that he shared with his father.  In his story/song "Drive", Alan Jackson touches a chord about childhood-- not just his childhood, but arguably the early years of us all --when he recounts the thrill of his first real toy. 

    The boat was "just an old plywood boat, with a 75 Johnson and [an] electric choke," but it represented something much bigger and lasting.  It was a material object around which a family, a father and son, could grow and bond.  The song was dedicated to his father, who passed in 2000, but in a sense, didn't pass from his heart because of Jackson's fond memories. 

      So what does a country song have to do with fishing in Costa Rica?  Quite a bit, although it doesn't have to involve Costa Rica or fishing necessarily.  The ingredients may change here and there, but the end result, what is most important, remains the same:  share a different or thrilling experience with your child and they are likely to remember it long after your passing.  Upon reflection, Alan Jackson spoke of his first boating experience as "a piece of [his] childhood [that] will never be forgotten."

    Last February, I had the opportunity to fish with my 10 year-old son and 14 year-old nephew out of Los Suenos Marina aboard a 33' Pro-line custom express (hardly the modest wooden boat in Jackson's story, but times have changed).  They both fought and landed their first Pacific sailfish, along with multiple yellowfins and mahi-mahi.  As a father and an uncle, I am hoping that this becomes a piece of their childhood that is not easily forgotten.

    But the boat, whether it be an old wooden one or a tricked-out, custom sport-fisher, is really just the catalyst around or by which the real and lasting magic is formed.  And that magic is the act of doing it together, as family, as partners.  That is the glue that holds the story together-- that ensures that it lives on with time, even after circumstances drastically change.  The boat was "built out of love" and the kid that nurtured the process with his father was guided by the same.

   

Posted by Bob Smith on February 24, 2008 at 09:41 PM in Fishing | Permalink