Catch of the Day

Claire Borges

Mr. Waddington

English 8

9/20/13          Catch of the Day

         

It was getting late in the day.  The brilliant sun was searing my pale skin.  I was starting to regret my decision to leave the bottle of sunscreen in my dad's truck.  The boat was gently bobbling in the waves.  I had a migraine from squinting so hard. 

         My dad and I were catching nothing, and I felt like quitting.  When I say nothing, I mean completely worthless junk.  We were trying to catch trophy trout to win first in the stringer division at a fishing rodeo.  That, obviously, was not happening.  My dad owns New Orleans Fish House, a wholesale seafood company.  He deals with fishermen, so he knows where everyone is catching fish.  No one was catching fish anywhere, but we went fishing anyway.  We drove our boat to different spots around the sound. 

         "We aren't going to catch anything good at this spot, Dad."

         "Just a few more casts.  Something feels right about this spot."

         At that point, I was lying down on the boat, watching my dad's cork bob.  Up. Down. Up. Down. No. Fish.

         Right as we were packing up to leave, the cork plunged down into the blue-green water.

         "Fish on line! Fish on line!"

         I grabbed the pole right from my dad's sunburned hands, and I started fighting the monster of a fish.  I was on fire.  I was reeling so fast, but I started losing steam about two minutes later.  The bottom end of the fishing pole was jabbing me in the stomach, and I was in excruciating pain.  My whole body was shaking.  I kept thinking that it was dry rot line.

         Every few seconds, the line would make a shrill "zzzzz" sound because the fish was running.  Those intervals got shorter and shorter.  The next thing I know, the biggest redfish I have ever seen is in my net. It is a beautiful copper color.  I count its eye spots: there are 19.  The fish has scars all over its body.  This fish was old and smart.  It had probably gotten off of people's lines several times, only they didn't catch this elusive fish. 

         I caught the fish.

         I was shaking and in tears. Happy tears. 

         We drove home and went to the fishing rodeo.  My fish was too big to enter. Not many people can say that.  At thirty inches long and weighing twenty-five pounds, my fish was a monster. 

         My dad told everyone that his daughter caught a giant bull red.  He was overjoyed.  I love to fish, but I also like to see my dad with a giant grin on his face. 

         I had done well.