Hey y'all, sorry this has been so long coming, real life has a habit of interrupting my flow.
Gone Fishin'
I woke up first, wonder of wonders. Dressed only in a long tee-shirt, I shuffled out into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Some habits from my life as a middle-aged man clung to me like a bad smell. Shuffling as I walked first thing in the morning was one of them. I caught myself and made a conscious decision to break that particular habit. It didn't fit the aesthetic.
Pauli came into the kitchen, following his nose to the coffee pot.
"Ah Hooker" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes, "you are an absolute angel!"
"Coffee's not quite ready yet, Brother" I replied, "and I doubt angels deepthroat."
He chuckled "If there is a Heaven in my future, the angels
there
will."
When both of us had a cup o' coffee, he started throwing together breakfast: spam and eggs for the win. I felt like maybe he'd been out on the Islands for too long, he was using spam in a lot of his cooking. But when the food was ready, I could not argue with the results. It was more than just edible, he'd done something with a jar of spices and a bottle of hot-sauce that really worked with the protein heavy meal.
"It always amazes me that you can make spam
good
" I said, toasting him with my coffee mug.
"Spam
is
good" he replied, "most people just don't know how to cook it.
"Fair enough" I replied, and finished my breakfast.
Again, I took care of the breakfast dishes while he got himself ready for work. We seemed to be falling into a pattern, at least as far as working mornings went. The kitchen was cleaned up and Pauli was dressed for work. He had some time before he had to leave, so we sat out at the picnic table in the yard and enjoyed another cup o' coffee each.
"So, what are you doing today, Hooker?" he asked.
"I don't really know" I responded, "I suppose I'll use the herbs I harvested yesterday and mix up some healing potions to replace the ones I've used."
"You wanna go fishing?" he asked, "Maybe do a beach side cook-out after?"
"Sounds like fun" I said, "will you have time for all that after work?"
"I'mma take off early today" he said, "I'll meet you at the dock around noon."
"See you there" I said.
With that, he finished his coffee, hopped in his car and departed for work. I took the mugs back into the house and, with nothing better to do, started mixing heal pots.
Time flies when you're focused on doing a good job. The bright red potions were bottled up, and the stoppers sealed with wax when I noticed the time. I left the pots to cool on the counter and hurried out of the house. Door locked behind me, I whistled for my Hippogrif. Part horse, part eagle, the creature appeared from the sky and landed nimbly in the yard. I mounted up and took to the heavens, covering the distance between the Pauli's place and the dock in seconds.
I spotted Pauli's car and landed behind it.
"Bout time you showed up" he chided, "another five minutes and I was gonna go looking for you."
"Sorry I'm late, I lost track of time" I responded, "So, fishing today?" I asked, to change the subject.
"Yep, "he replied, "Got the Captain all ready to take us out whenever yer ready to go."
"Sweet, another boat ride!" I said happily.
We walked down the pier to the Island Girl's slip where the Captain was waiting for us.
"Lubbers" scoffed the Captain, "you be lucky to catch anything going out this late!"
He had been paid in advance though, and so was happy to take us out to where he thought there might be some decent fishing. About an hour out from the dock he furled the sail and broke out a couple of deep-sea rigs.
"I gotta admit," I said, "the only ocean fishing I've ever done was off the pier at Ocean Beach" and off the piers at Darkshore, Teldrassil, Darkmoon Island, Stormwind Docks...but I didn't say that.
"That's fine, Tits" said the Captain, "you can bait the hooks, I hear yer a master baiter."
"Goddess Pauli," I exclaimed, "is there
no
privacy on this island??"
"Not when you're as loud as you are" he replied, smirking.
The Captain was kidding, of course. He had a few deep-sea rigs set up and ready for us, and was kind enough to show me how to use the big, open reel. It was a nice rig, and I'm sure both the Captain and Pauli thought I was insane when I whipped out my Nat Pagle Extreme Angler FC-5000, popped a Shiny Bauble on it and threw a line over the side. Within 20 seconds I had a bite; that's how the magic works I guess. I pulled up a nice sized Ahi, which we popped into the boat's live well. I knew I could pull 'em in all day like that, but I decided to use the Captains rig and actually enjoy the act of fishing.
As the sun rose higher in the ultra-blue tropical sky, the day grew warmer. I used some sun-block on my exposed skin to keep from getting burnt and turning purple. The breeze across the water was enough to keep it comfortable while we fished and drank and told sea-stories.
"...and that was how I finally got away from her" said the Captain, "but I never forgot her, and named my boat in honor of the crazy bitch!"
Pauli and I laughed, the dirty old sailor could have a hundred stories about as many "island girls" and any of them would fit the name of his boat.
"What about you, Tits" he said, "surely you've got some tales to tell."
I nodded, "What kind do you want to hear" I asked, "In-Game or Out?"
"Out" he said, "I want history, not fantasy!"
"Very well" I said, and thought for a moment.
"Have you ever sailed on the Indian Ocean?" I asked.
"No" he replied, "this is as far West as I've dared to venture."
"Well then" I started, "You should know that the IO is not like other oceans..." I launched into a sea-story from my days in the Navy:
During my first WestPac deployment (1993/94) our ARG was diverted from a Liberty call in Australia to an international incident in Mogadishu, Somalia. Ever seen the movie
Blackhawk Down
, yeah we responded to the events in that movie with a full Amphibious Ready Group and all of our embarked Marines and their equipment.
One of the major features on the coast of Mogadishu, is a camel abattoir; and, it being a developing nation, they didn't really have any EPA to get in the way of them dumping all the waste from the slaughterhouse directly into the coastal waters. The sharks off the coast of Somalia are well fed and huge. Once, while I was off watch, I was spending a little time up on the foc'sle taking in some sunshine. One of the gunners up there hollered and pointed into the water. There, easily visible on both sides of the bow of the ship was the most enormous hammerhead shark I'd ever seen. It was easily 20 ft. long.
We spent 4 months either anchored or floating back and forth along that coastline. It came to be known as Groundhog Station because we got up and did the same thing every day. When we were finally relieved of our watch there, we began the long trip back to the states. I want you to consider traveling halfway around the world...at a top speed of 20 knots (about 23 mph).
One night, as we were crossing the IO, the entire ocean was lit up by bio-luminescence (we thought). The night sky was dark except for the brilliant star-light and there was no moon. The ocean shone brighter than the sky. I was on watch with my section in CIC when the aft lookout called up a light contact on the horizon. We had nothing on the scope at first, but as the light grew dimmer we began to pick up a very distinct contact. Whatever it was it was moving faster than we were (no surprise) and coming right at us. Eventually, the lookout lost sight of the contact altogether, but we had a strong trace on the scope, and the bridge was starting to get nervous about a possible collision. We lost the contact in the sea return around the ship as we all braced for an impact that never came. Eventually we picked up a strong track on the opposite bearing, headed away from us. We tracked it out to the edge of our scopes and then the forward lookouts spotted a light on the horizon.
"And that" I concluded, "was the time I tracked the Flying Dutchman."
"Bullshit!" said the Captain.
"We all agreed it was a ghost track, but the lights that the lookouts saw were not a failure in the electronics" I said, "and of course the Bridge crew would have none of the superstitions, they explained it as a low flying aircraft (with no lights and making no noise) or a submarine, but the only subs in the area would have been Indian Kilo's, and those old diesel/electric boats don't have the kind of speed we saw that night."
The Captain thought about it for a moment and then started in on a tale of the northern waters of the inland passageway.
The afternoon passed pleasantly, and when the live-well was full and the cooler was empty we headed for home.
Almost as soon as we tied up, there were a couple of big islanders waiting to help up unload our catch. The Captain spoke with them, and consulted with Pauli. The big Hawaiians quickly emptied the live well and preceded us up on to the pier, as we said our good-byes to the Captain. Once on the pier, one of the big guys handed Pauli a heavy bundle of butcher paper and said "Mahalo!" before joining his partner at what appeared to be a fish-cleaning station.
Pauli nodded and smiled as we headed up the pier to the parking lot.
"I'm guessing that's dinner" I said.
"Yep, filleted and packaged for us." He replied.
"That was quick!" I said.
"Those guys don't fuck around!" he said, "They get to keep most of the catch, which they will sell to others, or take home for the family."
When we got to the car, dinner was loaded and we drove down to the beach.
Pauli set up for grilling the fish and made a couple of phone calls.
"There's no way we're eating all of this," he said, "so I've invited some friends to bring sides and beer."
"Sounds good" I said, halfheartedly. I didn't know these people and I wasn't looking forward to explaining myself to new strangers.
The first couple to show up were Caucasian, but had obviously been on the islands for most of their lives. Deeply tanned, old surfer types with an enormous cooler full of beer.
Pauli introduced me as Eniari and left it at that. They were cool, taking in my appearance without missing a beat and handing me a beer. We talked about fishing and surfing and beer until the next few people showed up. The cute little firecracker from my first morning here and her kids. She brought a couple of tubs of sliced fruit and something called Poi.
She greeted me warmly and then hollered at her kids not to go too far away.
When the fish hit the grill it was covered in aluminum foil with seasonings inside; I was assured that this was how it was done. I happily drank my beer and socialized there on the beach with a group of friends I never knew I had.
When the fish was ready, we ate. Paper plates, plastic flatware, aluminum cans...grilled Ahi never had such good company. The fish itself was amazing; Pauli and his friends certainly knew how to eat. The smell of the food attracted others, and since there was more here than could be finished by our group, we welcomed them to join us: A touristy looking couple of teens, an older looking gentleman that was probably homeless, and a familiar little gnome.
"Pica!" I shouted, when I saw her.
"Eni!" she shouted back, grinning.
I knelt down to put myself at eye level for her and we chatted about the food, beer, Blizzard, and monsters.
