Of Fish and Friendship
There’s something to be said for a relaxing, storyless weekend. Our bodies need that sometimes. But I think our minds and hearts need adventures too.
Some thirty years ago, I went on a fishing trip with my buddy, Jim.
We both thought it would be best if Jim drove the little fishing boat that was powered by an outboard motor, although neither of us had a lot of experience. Okay, I had no experience since I was a young boy sitting on my grandpa’s lap on a lake in Minnesota, so that probably doesn’t count. And I think I was afraid to ask Jim about his level of expertise.
The boat puttered painfully slow – no more than five miles per hour as we cut through the choppy waves near the Gavins Point Dam in South Dakota. [From what I’m seeing online now, we were on Lewis & Clark Lake with more than 90 miles of shoreline]. Jim was in total control though. A cigarette hung from his mouth as he steered with one hand while straddling the back seat so he could see where we were going.
We traveled several miles up the shoreline, found what appeared to be an ideal place to fish and dropped our lines in.
Neither of us are great fishermen, but that didn’t matter. We were there for a weekend of fun and fishing. No tents for us, either. We stayed in a hotel. And we certainly were not dependent on what we caught for dinner. Thankfully.
As is typically the case for me when I go fishing with friends, we had our share of bites as the morning wore on but no success in landing the big one. At one point, though, I looked up and saw what appeared to be a huge storm front moving in. Fishing is supposed to be better in the rain – at least that’s what real fishermen say, right? What’s a little water among friends? We decided to keep fishing.
A few minutes later, the waves began to rock the boat more violently. Our choices didn’t thrill me. We could do nothing and try to wait out the storm. We could pull to the shore out in the middle of the boonies, but there was nowhere to take cover. Or we could try to putter our way back to the dock, driving straight through the storm.
Keep in mind that The Perfect Storm had not yet been released. If it had been, we may have chosen one of the other two options.
No matter which option we chose, we were going to get soaked. So, we pulled in our lines and headed back. I wasn’t even sure if the motor could navigate the waves.
Rain began to fall shortly after we headed back to the dock – which we couldn’t even see yet. Then the heavens opened up and I was expecting to see Noah’s Ark come floating by. Thunder rumbled overhead and rain stung our faces as the boat fought against the waves. A third of the way into our trek, a much larger boat with official lettering on it sped by us in the opposite direction, and one of the men on board pointed us back toward the dock.
Yeah, we figured that one out already, buddy. You want to give us a hand?
They must have had more confidence than we did in our boat because they kept going in the opposite direction.
As the dock came into view, Jim and I laughed – partially out of relief and partially out of the silliness of the situation. Our clothes were stuck to our bodies, and all of our possessions were drenched.
We made it back safely, pretending like it was no big deal but happier than ever to see wet land. We drove back into town and had a nice meal, talking about the storm the entire time and knowing this would be a story for the ages. And that has turned out to be the case.
I’m going to see Jim tonight for dinner, so this story will be part of the conversation. The fish we almost caught will grow bigger, the storm will grow more violent and our battle to return to shore will grow more epic. But that’s all part of the fun of going on adventures.
That’s the thing about being intentional. If we hadn’t planned a fishing trip that weekend, we wouldn’t have this story. And that particular weekend would fade into oblivion because it would have been like most other weekends.
There’s something to be said for a relaxing, storyless weekend. Our bodies need that sometimes – maybe most of the time, especially at my age. But I think our minds and hearts need adventures too, so I’m glad I’ve been on a few.
Here are some tidbits you might find interesting this week:
Last week, I share this article with you by Elizabeth Reynolds Turnage: Prepare Your Congregation to Die. I always want to let you know about her book: Preparing for Glory: Biblical Answers to 40 Questions on Living and Dying in Hope of Heaven.
A friend sent me this quote from Martin Luther: “Our Lord has written the promise of the resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.”
I met a friend for lunch the other day while rocking my Stryper shirt. He asked if they were still around. Oh, yeah, they are. And still recording new music.
Get the tissues ready if you are a sucker for animal rescue stories. Country singer Bri Bagwell released this song about her rescue dog.
“How to connect with others: Share with someone who wants to listen or listen to someone who wants to share.” -James Clear
When Lee isn’t writing essays, devotional books, or Christian fiction, he is a freelance editor, as well as a freelance journalist who has written hundreds of articles for various newspapers and magazines. He’s also a fan of NASCAR, baseball, tennis, books, movies and coffee shops.
Well told, Lee. I felt as if I was there in the boat with you and Jim!
Such a well-told fish story! It’s fun how when you share your story, I remember my own storm in a boat (sailboat, thankfully with an expert sailor as captain, but terrifying nonetheless!) story.