The real fishing story

I often wonder what my wife is doing for hours late at night on the computer (I've checked the "history" to see if she was looking at inappropriate websites), but now I see she has been blogging. Apparently, everyone does it now. While I don't anticipate spending hours writing to cyber-friends about what we're doing, I do feel the need to clarify the truth about the Mexican fishing trip photos that Erin posted. We boarded the fishing boat and were cruising out of the harbor before the sun was up. It was beautiful! Once out of the harbor, I noticed the swells were about 6 to 8 feet high as the boat rocked up and down. The kids were excited - for the first 20 minutes or so. It was at that at that point that Sadie turned green and began whimpering about being sea sick. Not wanting some sick kid to wreck the fishing trip, I told her that lying down would make her feel better. About 10 minutes later, Lexie also turned the shade of an unripe banana. Erin was next. Cooper and I were toughing it out ... it was me, my son, and the sea. That lasted about 10 more minutes, then Cooper became as verdant as a green bean. I let the Captain and his helper (who spoke only Spanish) know that my wife and kids were seasick. They, like me, were not going to let the women and children ruin their fishing trip. After about an hour we caught a small Bonito. That was enough excitement for Lexie to rouse herself and sit in the fishing chair. Soon we had another one and Lexie reeled it in like a pro (after all - I taught her to fish). Another hour or two with nothing put everyone - except me - to sleep. The only break in the sleeping was the occasional puking overboard by Sadie. Then, I big one hit the line. It was the powerful Mahi Mahi (known as the Dorado in Mexico). I fought it and brought it boat side. The kids were excited enough to wake up to see the fish, just as the Mexican helper gaffed it, yanked it on board, and began clubbing it in the head with a stick. The fish spewed blood, but refused to die. So the Mexican helper through it down into where Erin and kids had been sleeping. Cooper shed a tear as he watched the magnificent fish gasping for oxygen. After another 2 hours without a fish, the captain yelled for me to get into one of the two fishing chairs. I watched as his helper climbed down the ladder and began reeling in other lines to avoid tangles. We had hooked a big one. After hearing the line on another pole begin peeling out, I realized we had two big fish on on the lines. The Captain had two poles in his hand and was yelling instructions that no one could understand. Suddenly, I felt something fly by my head. The Captain had accidently dropped one of the poles (along with the 5 lbs. reel attached to it). It narrowly missed my head and landed on back of the boat. A huge sailfish jumped, and the pole started flying overboard. The fearless Mexican helper literally dove into the back of the boat and grabbed the pole just before it was yanked overboard. Two other fishing poles clattered to the deck, line and hooks and bait everywhere. He handed me the pole, when I heard a painful yell and the boat lurched forward at full speed - black smoke billowing from the diesel engine. I looked back to see the captain had fallen halfway down the ladder and had accidently his the throttle forward. The Captain's leg was pinned behind his back and he was holding the fishing pole (with the second sailfish on it) in one hand and keeping himself from falling 5 feet to the hard deck below with the other. The Mexican helper (probably worried about feeding his family that day) ran over and grabbed the pole from the Captain. The boat was still billowing black smoke and going full throttle. Line was peeling out from both fishing poles. The Captain - whose leg was know bent at an awkward angle behind his back - yelled for someone to help him. Erin came to the rescue. She started to push the Captain back up the ladder so he could free his pinned leg and slow the boat before it exploded. As she began to push him, the Captain shouted, "that's it, keep pushing." Erin (who despite being a good French kisser - is not the most gifted linguist) believed he was yelling for her stop, stopped pushing him and backed away. The Captain again began yelling for her to push him up and I translated. Erin began pushing him up, and again as the Captain yelled encouragement, she let him back down for fear that she was hurting him. Although I was focused on my fish (as any good fisherman would be), I finally translated for Erin that she should keep pushing him up the ladder until he could free his pinned leg. After what seemed an eternity, the Captain was able to slow the boat. Somehow through all of this, I skillfully kept fighting the fish and kept it on the line. Finally, Erin sat in the other fishing chair and was handed the fishing pole. Erin and I sat side by side fighting our fish. The enormous sailfish jumped and danced on the water. The spray from water where the great beasts jumped glittered like emeralds in the sun. Within 5 minutes, Erin had reeled her fish in. The Captain and the helper immediately gaffed the fish and dragged it on board. Luckily Erin had moved toward the back of the boat, because as soon as it hit the deck, the sailfish began flipping and whipping its 2 foot long sword of a nose back and forth - looking for a victim. The Captain and the helper jumped out of the way. All the while I stayed in my seat fending the beast off with my feet while concentrating on reeling on the monster at the end of my line. After many blows to the head with the stick and a couple of pints of blood spattered over everyone, Erin's sailfish lay quiet. Still my fish would not come in, it had to be much bigger than the one Erin had just landed. After another 10 minutes my fish was close enough to gaff. Unfortunately, the gaff was attached to a wooden broom handle which promptly broke just as the fish was on the side of the boat. It fell back to the water and swam away. Again, my skills were called upon to land the angered monster. After another 10 minutes, and some severe blows to the fishes head with the wooden club, it was over. There lay my fish- a full foot and a half shorter and a good 30 lbs. lighter than Erin's. I felt triumphant. I looked at my green, sickly and shocked family and thought, "it doesn't get any better than this." On the two hour ride back to the harbor, Sadie only through up one more time - the others slept. I cracked open the bad lunch that I had purchased for $12 U.S. and contently munched my sandwich (which consisted of a paper thin slice of ham and a quarter inch of mayo). And that is the true story behind our authentic Mexican fishing trip!