Saturday, July 5, 2008

Happy Fourth of July!

For the 4th, friends of ours came to visit us at our little seaside getaway. The town is by the sea, our little getaway is a 10 minute walk away. Anyway, the weather looked a little less than promising so we decided to attack a new hobby -- fishing. Earlier in the week, we'd been by the little harbor here and saw a man in (I'm guessing) his 60's who said he was Greek, pulling fish out of the water literally every 3-5 minutes. It was unbelievable. The boys sat on the rocks mesmerized. Last summer we meant to get out and try fishing, but for some reason it never happened. Yesterday seemed like the perfect opportunity. I'd already gone out and purchased cheapo poles that came along with a mini tackle box all for $29.99. Our friends, the Trigos, were much more experienced in the fishing department than us -- which actually isn't saying a whole heck of a lot since we've basically never fished -- but their oldest son, Alex is a very experienced fisherman indeed. They bought the bait, and Alex and his dad, Carl helped us to get everything "assembled". We drove down to the little harbor where there is a breakwater and a lot of fishermen. (Fisherpeople??! Come on.) It truly is unfortunate that no one present had a camera or video camera because it surely was a sight to see Victor and I trying to cast. I officially lost four hooks I think and two weights. We practically emptied the harbor of seaweed -- attached to our hooks. Even non-fishers would have been hysterical laughing at the sight of us. But, don't you know at some point -- miraculously -- I caught a fish. A flounder!! I managed to get it half way up the breakwater (a large rocky barrier) and then proceeded to panic like a 1940's young lady screeching at the sight of a mouse. I didn't know what to do with it! We'd forgotten to bring a net of any kind so here was this flapping flounder halfway up the rocks and me -- squealing. Victor came to my rescue (as if he was qualified). By some stroke of luck, the two of us, sorry fishermen that we were, managed to get this poor fish up. I know this is a fish story and all, but you'll have to trust me when I tell you that it was about a foot long. We put that poor thing in a bucket with salt water and took it home. Carl deserves a metal for somehow managing to "prepare" the flounder with the sad knives he had at his disposal. I made a marinade out of olive oil, salt, pepper, and lots of sliced onions. Victor fried it up on the grill (on tin foil) and wow did that fella taste good. My first salt water catch. My second catch ever. (I'll have to tell you how my father let the spoonbill catfish I'd caught go some other time.)

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