Species: Black Rockfish (Sebastes melanops)
Location: Brookings Coastline, OR
Date: May 25, 2005
Elementary school was terrible, junior high was better, and high school was all right. As a freshman, I was awkward in the way most freshman are, but I was also extra awkward in my own, special way.
I’m not sure I really knew what I wanted, or what I was interested in outside of hunting, fishing, and trapping. But even those were more intellectual interests than anything else. Sports were okay, and I competed in soccer, cross country, basketball, and track as a freshman, but I hadn’t found my niche.
Then came the Biology Trip.
It was a chance for freshman in Mr. Dean’s biology class to head to the coast for a few days of tide pool examinations, hiking, fishing, and maybe, when left to our own devices, the roasting of a banana slug over the fire and subsequent dares to eat it.
We unpacked the vans, put up the tents, and threw around a football while waiting for instructions. That was fun. I could catch pretty well. Unfortunately, I couldn’t (and still can’t, really) throw very well. So much for impressing anyone and solidifying my position as a cool jock.
I was saved from my miserable throws by an announcement. We were told anyone interested in fishing should hop in the van.
It sounded like a nice break, so I hopped in.
***
The 14- or 15-foot Bayliner was not big. In fact, it was hardly a seagoing vessel in the conventional sense. Even still, I climbed in. The harbor was calm and sheltered, and my dad had told me how “Brookings has the safest bar in Oregon,” so I didn’t think much of it.
The ocean was relatively calm, but being on it for the first time — in a small boat, no less — quickly made me queasy. I wasn’t the only one, either.
Everyone on our boat was some level of seasick, but I wasn’t the worst-off, so I was able to fish. My four-inch Wild Eye Swim Shad, the swimbait I know use more than almost any other lure, quickly snagged the bottom, and it wouldn’t be the only time that afternoon. Fortunately, I eventually got it to work long enough to catch a black fish that looked remarkably similar to a Largemouth Bass — except an evil-looking version of it: black and sinister with large spines.
Three more eventually followed suit before another angler on the boat landed the fish of a lifetime, and I later put my head entirely inside of its mouth (read about that here).
Something in me changed that day, I got a stronger sense of identity: I was a fisherman now.
#SpeciesQuest // #CaughtOvgard
Read the next entry in #SpeciesQuest here: Species #10 — Blue Rockfish.
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Even the gods, if they exist, must laugh from time to time. Perhaps what we call tragedy is merely comedy from a higher perspective, a joke we are too caught up in to understand. Maybe the wisest among us are not the ones who take life the most seriously, but those who can laugh at its absurdity and find joy even in the darkest moments.
If everything in this universe has a cause, then surely the cause of my hunger must be the divine order of things aligning to guide me toward the ultimate pleasure of a well-timed meal. Could it be that desire itself is a cosmic signal, a way for nature to communicate with us, pushing us toward the fulfillment of our potential? Perhaps the true philosopher is not the one who ignores his desires, but the one who understands their deeper meaning.
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