Hooked
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And then there are some mementos from Cowabunga, pure and simple, now working their way into veritable heirloom status along with the kitchen tongs. As Sean became an adept fisherman, he would most often trail a fishing line during a passage, and more often than not, a good many of the fishing lures would disappear usually munched off by a shark or the “big one that got away.” Sean was around 10 years old during one particular passage when we found ourselves bereft of lures after the last one disappeared. Figuring they weren’t called “spoon lures” for nothing, Sean confiscated one of my spoons, and asked Michel to drill two holes in the spoon: one at each end. With that, he was able to attach a fishing line at the stem end, and then a hook at the bottom of the cup of the spoon. He threw it into the water and promptly caught a hefty, beautiful bonito! And the lure survived. In fact, it survived quite well and became THE fishing lure, bringing Sean a lot of success. One of his prized catches was a big Dorado, (almost as big as him), that he caught off the Pacific Coast of Panama and that we ate heartily. Since his system worked so well, he commandeered two other spoons for a total inventory of three. Two of them have been framed for posterity, and one remains in my kitchen utensil drawer today.
