White knuckled, bouncing and bracing himself, the salt of wind-formed tears mix with the cold spray of the ocean.
"I will be tough. I will not fall into the ocean," is the mantra he repeats silently as the craft hits wave after wave at speeds nearing 50mph on this windswept, high seas day.
As he lands painfully, nearly knocking himself and his friend onto the white expanse of the deck, he wonders if there will be a pay-off for this harrowing ride under a cloudless sky. Another jostle and miraculously the boat begins to slow.
The sheltered inlet offers blessed stillness and peace.Tentatively the boys both rise and test their sea legs again. Shaking off their previous fear they offer shaky laughter in response to quips about the ride from their fathers and neighbor while reaching for their poles.
With poles in hand silently dismissing thoughts of sopping clothes and cold breezes they set to their task in earnest. Casting, reeling, and repeating the process, silent boy prayers are offered to the sea.A bite, a tug, set the hook and reel it in. Ogle at the size or snap fingers with frustration that a mere inch in length can cause. Laugh with their dads as their bounty grows. And know, perhaps, that this memory is a keeper.
* This story has been pieced together from yesterday's actual adventurous exploit of Boy and Hubby. Though I was not present to witness said adventure, I have shared with you, my friends, the story as I picture it based on the stories all present were eager to share upon their arrival home.