Lurchy

We were in town today and had a walk on a breezy Cape Wanbrow. It was an unusual northeast wind, which was blowing against the southeast sea swell making the sea very lurchy for anybody unlucky enough to be on it. It’s visible in this view from the Cape.

Memories of my 46th birthday flooded back, when I went on a sea fishing trip from Noosa on the Sunshine Coast in Australia. 

I learned to love sea fishing when I lived in Cooktown in the late 90s with my Pirate. We had a beautiful yacht on which we spent half our time, and during daylight hours we usually had at least one line over the side to catch our dinner, or to catch fish to take back to shore for friends.

It had been a few years since I’d done any sea fishing, so a birthday seemed the perfect day to indulge myself. It was a greatly anticipated treat.

What I hadn’t banked on was being in a tiny boat (albeit with a huge outboard motor) on a sea just like today’s. Exactly the same in fact: a northeasterly wind blowing hard across a southeasterly swell. 

As soon as we anchored on a likely fishing spot a few km offshore, the boat twisted and bucketed in an uncomfortable motion which left my stomach behind every time the stern lifted above the horizon. I was completely glued to my seat with sweat and nausea rising ever higher, until the inevitable happened. 

Repeatedly.

I never even baited my hook.

After an hour of hell the skipper declared the trip was being cut short due to worsening conditions. I was too sick to feel in the slightest bit relieved. 

When we reached the wharf 40 minutes later I could barely walk and I needed an hour of recuperation with plenty of water and some lollies before I could face the drive home. I spent the next day in bed.

It is probably no surprise to hear I’ve not ventured out sea fishing since then, despite my FFL (friend for life) encouraging me several times to join him in his boat. Nope. I’ll just enjoy the fish he catches and feel no desire whatsoever to catch any myself.

I went on a helicopter ride for my 47th. That was fantastic, and lived up to all my expectations.

All that from one glimpse of today’s ocean.

Bean accompanied me on the walk, but had no memories to recount.