McKinleyville is the new town I live in. I am here so I can attend Humboldt State University. Thus far it has been a great experience (give me another few weeks to change my tune).
This little story is an assignment I had for my Oceanography class. We were supposed to go to the beach and talk about how we felt at the beach. This is what I came up with....
I always forget how loud it is at the beach. The big sound of the waves always comes as a surprise. In my adult life, I have not frequented the beach much. As a child, I went more frequently.
My father loved, and still loves fishing. He used to take my brother and I to Bodega Bay, camping. Sometimes we would go to Tomales Bay and go out deep-sea fishing. I remember the bugged out eyes of the fish, their fragile bodies unable to adjust to the rapid change in pressure.
My fishing days came to an end one winter after a fishing trip to Cabo San Lucas eighteen years ago. Again, it was a trip with my dad and brother. The mission was marlin. We caught tunas of various sorts, even an eel. Yet for almost two weeks, we did not land a Marlin. Finally, on the 10th or 11th day, just when my dad was about to give up, we hooked onto a marlin. I would find out later that it weighed 127 pounds. Bringing it in required that the animal remain outside the boat because my dad didn’t have anything to kill it with and he didn’t want the fish killing us with its big spear. So instead, we dragged it alongside the boat, backwards, and it suffocated to death. I cried and said to my dad that it was a very undignified way for such an amazing animal to die.
Even as I write this 18 years later, I cry again.
Today I am at the beach with my dog Lupine. It is a sunny afternoon.