I’ve mentioned before that I’ve always been a little afraid of the ocean. Now I’m deathly afraid of it. And I’m never going on a boat again.
Dad wanted to go deep-sea fishing. We were able to find a really good deal (note: cheap doesn’t mean better in this kind of thing but nobody told us that) Anyway, we even decided to take along Brooklyn so that we could all go. It was going to be a fun day out on a nice fishing boat (we didn’t realize that “good deal” does not mean “nice fishing boat”) We were sure we could handle Brooklyn between the four of us and thought it would be fun for her to see us catch fish. And we packed some toys to keep her entertained.
Mom and I worried the instant we saw the boat. No bathroom. This was an 8-hour trip and there was no bathroom? Not only was it not a “nice fishing boat” it was not a very big boat. There were already three “guides” plus three other tourists that joined our little trip and the five of us. But they had brought the “big” boat. As we loaded into the boat (not easy for us land-lubbers) I realized that the only way to get around to the front of the boat was by climbing outside the cabin along a narrow ledge. No thank you. So mom and I settled in on the only bench in the boat facing the rear of the boat right behind the “captain” in the cabin.
As we moved away from shore I could see it would be hard to hold Brooklyn but I figured once we stopped to put in our lines that we could figure something else out. As we moved further out to sea the waves got a little bigger. Pretty soon the boat was slowing down so that Sean and Dad could climb back to the cabin. Mom and I were shocked to see that they were absolutely drenched! They had been sitting in the perfect spot to get splashed by every wave that the boat slapped over. They were cold and wet but we were all still excited to go catch us some fish.
I was holding Brooklyn and trying to balance myself on a tall bench when suddenly my feet were not under me anymore and I was landing hard on the floor of the boat. (Not that my falling is such a rare occurrence but it adds to the adventure of this story!) Brooklyn didn’t like that so Sean took over my seat holding her. I must admit I was glad, because I was starting to feel a little nauseous.
At some point, as I was barely holding on, somebody mentioned we were about an hour out from where we would stop to fish. In the back of my mind I was wondering how I would survive just the next hour (remember: 8 hour trip). Then Brooklyn started throwing up. She’s always been pretty sensitive to motion. Poor thing hadn’t even had breakfast yet but I had a bag ready for her and she let me know whenever she was going to need the bag, which was often.
Then one of the men that came along with us lost his hat. Why in the world they thought it was worth fishing back out of the sea, I don’t know but they did and so they stopped the engines and were going in reverse and bobbing around in the sea trying to get the hat back. At this point I could see mom wasn’t doing so well and neither was I. Actually, Sean and Dad looked a little green themselves. The men that were in the front of the boat also moved back to the cabin where they could warm up. (I’m not talking about a big cabin here.) We got the hat but next thing I knew Mom was leaning over the side of the boat. Yes, she was sick. And then (no joke) the man next to me breathed on me. And his breath was bad. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was a good thing I had Brooklyn’s sick sack in my hands at that moment.
By then it was pretty obvious to everybody that this wasn’t going to work. We did end up turning back around, PRAISE THE LORD! The other men decided to go back out and get their money’s worth (they weren’t ready to “count their losses” yet). They ended up finding even rougher seas and not much else. Not a good day to fish. Dad, why did you think that was going to be fun, anyway?
I’m never getting into a boat again.
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