Fishing

Chris was off at some church conference or another today that did not have a venue for children the age of eight. So Dennis and I stayed home together. All week Dennis has been talking about going fishing! He had it planned out, we will buy a couple of fishing poles and go to the harbour and catch some fish - "dad more fun that you can imagine!" Just so everyone knows last time I went fishing I was ten and I have not had a desire to do so since.

When today rolled around and Dennis wanted to watch "A Christmas Story" I was hopeful! However before the movie stared he reminded me that we were going to go fishing afterwards; and yes right after the movie he ran us out the door to get a pole and go fishing.

There is a local place for fishing gear just off of Cuba Street (Some other time I will have to write to you about that place.) So Dennis and I drove over to the aptly named store "Steve's fishing supplies."

Steve greeted me with a warm hello and a broad smile. Dennis grabbed a $159 fishing pole, Steve directed Dennis to a $39 fishing pole and with a bit of coaxing by the both of us Dennis was convinced. (Thank God!) A few questions later I was an expert, as Steve told me where to go fishing, where to buy bait, etc. And we got out of there only spending $48.90 (sinkers hooks etc.)

We choose a great pier. Close to public parking, sunny, not too crowded, what more could one ask for? Just about the time I got the pole put together, the hooks, sinker, baited, etc. a four cops came walking up and inform me that there are sharks swimming around the pier. Taken by surprise I ask them if they are serious, no just kidding on the sharks; however this pier is off limits for fishing and to emphasise their point a cop pointed to a no fishing sign I had missed. Turns out the pier we choose was the Wellington Metropolitan Police pier; this group of Wellington's finest came off a police boat which docked while I was focused on getting Dennis ready to fish. The cop took one look at Dennis and informed me that the law does not apply to a father and son fishing, and then suggested that I move away from the cars. We did and the fun began!

I showed Dennis how to cast, gave him the pole, and on his first cash he caught two fish! (Oh should have told you the kiwi's fish with multiple hooks.) He was quite excited, it was great to see the smile on his face! I of course was wondering what we do now. I had not really expected to catch anything. So I cut the fish off the hooks, Dennis tossed back the small one and we put the large one in a plastic bag. Three hours later Dennis had caught six fish, another half dozen got away (bait eaten off the hooks) and he had a great time!

We brought home four fish which Dennis personally wanted to clean. This meant I had to show him how to clean the fish. And come to think of it this is what I did not like about fishing when I ten and why I have not gone back to what is otherwise a relaxing activity. So back to the house with some dead squid (bait) and four dead fish. As it was a ten minute drive back there was no smell in the car, and it gave me just long enough to figure out how to go about cleaning these things.

We put the squid in the freezer and grabbed a few knives, cutting board and a couple of bowls. The house we are renting had a hose so we went to the side of the house in the sun and started to clean those fish. Dennis was quite intrigued with the eyes, gills, heart, stomach, and intestines. What he liked the best was when the largest fish's mouth started to open and close after we beheaded it. I on the other hand was just trying to keep my lunch down after cleaning a few fish. Dennis turned this into a dissection examining everything he removed.

So we now have four clean fish of unknown pedigree in the fridge and fish heads wrapped in a plastic bag in our garbage can. Dennis is very particular about us having them for dinner tonight so Chris will have to scale them and find a way to make them palatable to the three of us.

Oh the joy of an eight year old!