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Column: Old Man and the Seasick: Excursion for Elusive Fish - Southern Pines Pilot

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There’s little virtue in virtual. Yet that’s how we’ve been living much of family life the past six months. When grocery shopping is about as “real” as it gets, you begin feeling like you’re little more than an icon in a game of SimCity.

So with that in mind, it was time for a dose of real, as in real vacation. A couple of weeks ago, we packed up the car, tied the fishing rods to the roof rack, and headed to a rented house in Ocean Isle, where we could feel the real — and the reel.

The house was on a canal and had its own dock, so we figured this would be a great opportunity for all of us to cast ourselves and our lines into the wind and water.

And since one apparently can’t just go and sit and relax for an entire vacation, we scheduled a half-day open-ocean fishing trip out of Calabash. These tourist-soaked excursions hook us all on thinking we can haul in that marlin or king mackerel, but you’re more likely to strike some sea bass. Either way, we figured we’d be good for a fun boat ride, some great sun and maybe Neptune would send some fins our way.

We pulled into Ocean Isle just as the remnants of Hurricane Laura were pulling out. The sweet little canal in the Airbnb pictures was throwing whitecaps. It wouldn’t be until our last day — as we pulled out of town — that the flags would fall limp.

We considered our timing fortuitous to arrive as Laura was leaving. Alas, we’d taken our eye off the big picture. We did not consider Hurricane Teddy.

OK, for starters, who names a hurricane “Teddy”? Teddies are cuddly, cute and consoling. They are not wind-driven menaces.

We arrived at the Calabash dock on the morning of our trip and found the crew dressed like they were ready to get drenched. Missed warning sign No. 1. Then, the captain’s advisory warned of “rough seas” and waves running 6-10 feet. The sea was angry that day, my friends. Missed warning sign No. 2. Turn back now? Nah. Fish to catch.

Off we sailed, about 25 of us, socially distanced and masked. Until the seasickness kicked in.

Look, even a flat cruise is bound to hit someone wrong. But when you continuously smack into waves that leave you hanging in the air for a second before landing? Let’s just say they needed more than just two trash cans in this cabin.

Luckily, the three of us had loaded up on Dramamine before even leaving the house. Between the three of us, two pairs of legs were seaworthy. Mine were not.

So, as Teddy roiled the ocean from his Canadian Atlantic perch, we heaved and ho-ed about the deck, repeatedly casting lines into an ocean so turbulent, not even a turbot would be caught dead in these waters. Most of us used the same piece of bait all day.

When the kids were little, I loved reading them Dr. Seuss’ “One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.” For four hours, all I could think of, other than holding to the railing — and my stomach — for dear life, was the book’s character Ish. He had a dish he could use, with a swish, to wish for fish.

“If you wish to make a wish,” Dr. Seuss wrote, “you may swish for fish with my Ish wish dish.”

This trip had neither Ish, wish, fish nor dish. But there decidedly was a swish swish — it was the ginger ale in my mouth after the pounding waves outlasted my Dramamine.

In the end, two little black sea bass came out of the water that day and went back in, probably searching desperately for schools that had long left them behind. As our returning ocean-battered vessel motored past the jetties and into the Intracoastal Waterway, we were just glad not to have gone off the side with them.

Like any good fish story, this excursion is bound to grow in time to be a cross between “The Perfect Storm” and “Gilligan’s Island.” Like our times, a virtual nightmare.

For the rest of vacation, we fished from our canal dock. The little pieces of Publix shrimp ($5.97 a pound!) on our lines netted almost a dozen little pinfish. Nothing made its way to the frying pan, but in some simple, quiet, patient fishing, we found some virtue after all.

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Column: Old Man and the Seasick: Excursion for Elusive Fish - Southern Pines Pilot
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