My bride says that I save too much stuff as she laments to our family, “He won’t throw it out unless it stinks!” Some have said that my boxes of interesting souvenirs and other accoutrements of a long life are arranged in a museum-like preservation of personal artifacts. It is in that spirit that I held onto a fishing trip gift certificate for 27 years!
Our youngest brother Chris, who we tragically lost at a young age, owned the 19th Hole Tavern in Hyannis with his upbeat business partner named David Cronan, in whose capable hands it remains today. The renowned Irish pub is where we enjoyed St. Patrick’s Day parties into the wee hours as well as the annual 19th Hole Golf Tournament. We told stories, laughed and even made a good golf shot once in a while! The post tournament reception at the “Hole” featured cold beer and delicious food as cheerful patrons collected prizes for their accomplishments on the golf course as well as items from several raffles.
Recently, I found a gift certificate for a fishing trip in a box full of objects that had survived decades of house cleanings! It was for a 17-hour cod fishing trip aboard the Helen H from the 19th Hole Golf Tournament, back in 1998! I’m sure I won it in a raffle not for any display of golf brilliance as my drive off the tee quite often resulted in my ball finding a home in the forest!
I drove to the Helen H office at the dock in Hyannis with my 9-year-old grandson Joe Wirth for a 4-hour groundfish voyage. Affable Yzette Hindle checked us in as she eyeballed my nearly 30-year-old coupon, smiling as she said, “We don’t even have 17-hour excursions anymore!” The exuberant lady went to the office and came back with the news that not only was our trip free, but she credited me for the unused portion and gave me a voucher for another day!
Joe had fished off the town docks in Mattapoisett before, but never from a large boat. He always had fun wetting a line with his sister and cousins. And, of course, after a day of scup and sea robins, the kids all looked forward to satiating their sweet-tooth-cravings with treats from the Seaport Ice Cream Slip.
Captain Tyler, of Helen H fame, steered the sturdy vessel from its berth while Joe and I settled in for the ride to the fishing grounds as knowledgeable mate Jack McDonald prepared the gear. Joe, who I’ve nicknamed Bam Bam after the kid in the Flintstone’s cartoon, was beaming on his first day on a big boat with dozens of enthusiastic anglers on board. I prepped him for what was to come as we bonded on a crisp bluebird morning while the ship cut through the small swells.
Giggles and howls filled the large cabin as excited clients told stories of past adventures including some heartfelt tales of rousing escapades with friends and family. Some speculated on what species might be caught as a five-year-old girl declared that she was going to catch the biggest fish on the boat, but her six-year-old brother let it be known that he was going to land a monster swordfish for dinner! Joe smiled with the satisfaction that he was right in the middle of so many joyous people content to be out on the open water.
Joe and I set up along the rail in an open area toward the stern where the mate gave us a bucket of cut bait. We were breathing fresh, clean air with a magnificent view of the vast Atlantic before us. We were both as happy as clams, at least the ones not in our bucket!
After stopping over a rock pile called Seneca, I baited our rigs, then dropped our lines down into the briny deep until our sinkers hit bottom. The captain had chosen the right location as the crowd was hooting and hollering with success all around! Joe hooked up within seconds, reeling in a keeper scup with a big grin on his face. He had a ball during the entire adventure bringing in a couple-dozen sea bass, scup and even a small shark which prompted us to start singing the Baby Shark tune!
Joe scored a double hook up twice, once with a couple fat scup and another time with two nice sea bass, prompting him to look up at me and declare, “Papa, I love fishing!” That really made my day with those sweet words validating a young man’s joy for this grandpa. Not only did Joe’s sentiments make me feel good, but it also confirmed that he had inherited my fishing genes, with family DNA and saltwater running through his veins!
As we returned to Hyannis, Joe and I walked back to the stern to observe the fast-moving hands of experienced men filleting our fish. As we disembarked from the ship after an exciting day on the ocean my thoughts turned to my late brother Chris. My good-natured sibling had just provided a memorable experience for the both of us – all the way from heaven!
Doherty is a retired Massachusetts District Court Clerk-Magistrate and the author of SEVEN MILES AFTER SUNDOWN and LAUGHS, LIES & AMERICAN JUSTICE. He can be reached at eastendeddie789@yahoo.com
