When I was a kid, my dad decided to take me to fishing trips as part of training to make me a better person. No, it wasn’t about killing the fish or something, but learning to be patience and stuff like that. Furthermore, we used the father-and-son moment for bonding our relationship.
We used to wake up early in the morning to go to some remote village area to fish, and sometimes the fishing session could last hours and hours and by the time we got home, it was around late evening and my mom would prepare to cook the catch we got. Unfortunately, sometimes when the moon and the earth are not aligned, we couldn’t catch a thing but we would still go home happy and my mom would put those ingredients she prepared earlier to cook the fish away. (Err.. no, that was a time when there was no mobile phone, so we couldn’t call back to tell her if we got anything)
Then things changed.
I was very busy during my high school life because of the stupid school schedule (Monday to Friday from 740am until 4pm, and Saturday from 740am until 1pm), and then there are lots of activities, like tuition, sports, and etc. So I didn’t have the time, and then I started to go into the rebellious phase of my teenage life, and I didn’t want to join my father the fishing trip. After few more years, I went to U.S. to further my studies, and I practically forgot that I used to fish.
Not long ago, before Chinese New Year, my family members were cleaning the house and they dug out the fishing rods and the reels from the storage area. They asked me if I still wanted them because if not, they would throw them away.
I looked at the rods and reels, and those fond memories of father-and-son team sitting like an idiot at some lake-side waiting for the fishes to bite the bait came back to me. I told them that I wanted the fishing rods and reels, so they put them in my room for me to clean them up.
The rods showed signs of aging because those rods had been with me for more than 20 years. I wiped them clean, put them together, and looked at them for quite a long time, to remember the time when I used to fish with my dad. And then I took the reels, took out the fishing lines (which was in a really bad shape), dismantled them, wiped off the dust, spider web, hairs and other stuff, and applied some grease to the ball bearing and joints. Without putting the line back to the reels, I tried the reel and they are still in working condition, and while I was doing that, I remember the many battles with those big catches I got, and I smiled to myself.
I took the reels off the rods and kept them safe because I wanted to keep them in a pristine state and continue to keep them for many years to come.
Lately I have been fishing with my friends. I bought a new set of reel because I didn’t want to break those antique reels of mine, but I didn’t want to change the rod. Not now, at least. When my friends saw my gears, they were exclaiming that it was really old and ancient. I didn’t bother to explain to them. I want to continue using the fishing rods until I think it is time to change them. It has been years and I am all rusty in casting the bait, tying the hook and all that. But it is all coming back to me very fast because I used to do all that, especially tying the hook since my dad got bad eye-sights so he taught me how and then asked me to do all that for him.
Nowadays it is different. I do night-fishing, and I no longer require to bake under a hot sun waiting for the fishes to bite the bait, like how my father and I used to do. But when my hands were on the rod and casting the bait out, it was almost like I went back to the old times and I could feel my father watching over me, accompanying me while I was sitting there waiting. That’s why sometimes when I didn’t get anything for one whole night, I didn’t really care. But it would be good to fight a battle with a big fish like how we used to do.
But the biggest difference is that nowadays whenever I fish, I don’t take the fish back. I would unhook the fishes and put them back into the pond so that they could survive. I don’t enjoy killing the fishes, but I do enjoy the process of getting them, including the waiting, the fighting, the reeling, and the excitement.
Sometimes sitting there, waiting, I would use the opportunity to calm myself down, to think, to strategize, or just to dream. That’s the good thing about night fishing because it was cool, very quiet and dark, so I won’t be distracted by the scenery or anything. I will just look at the pond, sometimes mind drift to thousands of miles away,not doing anything and only react when the fishes started to take the bait and pulled.
And I think that when I have a son or daughter, I will teach them how to fish, just like how my father used to teach me, and to spend time together with them for bonding and communicating.
But goddamnit. It has been years and I still miss you, dad.
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