It’s a lazy Sunday anchored off the entrance of Spanish Wells. I decided to take the dinghy over the Meeks Patch and do some fishing. The only fish I caught was a Barracuda…he’s eating something, where are the other fish? Clearly I don’t know how to fish in the Bahamas.
Anyways, the reel was acting weird, seizing up while bringing in the lure or getting stuck when letting the lure out. After the barracuda, I set off back to the boat.
I proceeded to take the reel apart, applying grease to various gears and the like…and then past memories of the Grandfather came to mind. My Grandfather LOVED fishing. I have a ton of memories of him taking me at various stocked lakes around Cincinnati/Hamilton County. He passed when I was 13 or 14. Prior to his death, he has placed an order for a new fishing boat. I never saw that boat, I think it was ultimately given to or purchased by his friend nextdoor. But, I can remember stories of him pulling his boat down to Florida…which I ultimately learned to be Sarasota when I was older, to fish. He’d take me in his backyard and teach me how to cast. He’d teach me how tie a fishing not. He even showed me how he made his own sinkers…he had a couple of lead casts that he’d melt down lead, insert pieces of coat hanger, and make sinkers (the coat hangers were ultimately removed leaving a hole to pass the line).
He retired from the Cincinnati power company, I believe, but I think if he had greater means, he’d be living on the water. There were so many stories of fishing and to this day, looking at old pictures, I see a ton of pictures of their catches. Anyways, I started to wonder where my love of water came from. Was I born with it?
My father used to take me canoeing. He’d always tell my sister and I not to stand up in the boat. One trip on a lake, he stood up to take a picture of something…and over he went with all of his expensive photography equipment. My dad loved water.
I used to take that canoe down the Little Miami River in Cincinnati with my Cousin after my Grandfather passed. My Grandmother would drive us upstream of the river and let us go…oh, the fun two young adolescents can have on a river!
My Stepfather had a runabout. I can remember the many trips boating on the Ohio river after picking up a bucket of chicken. What a blast.
When I was old enough to drive, my Grandmother used to let my cousin and I take the runabout down on the Ohio River…ALONE. What!? We skied and cruised down near downtown.‘
Anyways, when I was a kid, I used to dream of how I’d fix up my Grandfather’s runabout to live on. I figured I could fit a bed up underneath the bow…clearly, these were kid dreams but I’ve long had an attraction for being near, playing on or living on the water.
Sherine got me sailing lessons when we lived in the suburbs of Chicago. Learned to sail on a J-24. Oh what fun. I can remember once I passed my Sailing 101, I somehow came home with a Hunter Sailboat brochure….I’m going to buy one of these one day.
This life I’m living right now has been a work in progress for nearly all of my life. All of my prior boating experiences and boats have one by one built the foundation enabling me to do what we’re doing. I am so very fortunate to be able to realize this dream.