Harry remember - Fishing by the sea

I fondly remember my days as a kid when my father bought me my very first “rod-and-reel” combo. Dirt cheap fishing gear you could buy from the selves of any supermarket in a box with some line, sinkers and even hooks with some lures that was made for fresh water fishing. I remember how I opened my birthday present wrapped in brown paper and how my heart started to beat like a drum when I saw the picture of a man catching a huge fish on the box. Those days petrol was cheap and cars were big and you could drive after fish over the weekends. Our favourite spot was the S. Von Bach Dam near Okahandja, Namibia. I fondly remember the leisurely Saturdays next to the fishing water with my daddy and I waiting patiently for the fish to take the bait. I remember my first fish, a carp, and I remember my fierce fight with it while my father shouted instructions.

You'd better throw them away
You wanna turn your back
On your soulless days
Once you were tethered
And now you are free
Once you were tethered
Well now you are free
That was the river
This is the sea!

Live is like a fishing stream. It keeps flowing past and you never know what it will bring. Some days there will be abundance, but other days it will have nothing to offer you. But if you’re a real fisherman you will know that the stream will always offer you peace of mind and the quietness for which you came. This is how I remember my freshwater fishing days. This is how I remember my early youth. I grew up and the troubled mind of the teenager started to change my life bit by bit. My father was a man who understood life as he had lived it the hard way. He was a man of great patience. He was stuck with my behavior, but he knew one thing. If it all got too much, there were the fishing waters that would wash the worries away and cool the mind.

Now if you're feelin' weary
If you've been alone too long
Maybe you've been suffering from
A few too many
Plans that have gone wrong
And you're trying to remember
How fine your life used to be
Running around banging your drum
Like it's 1973
Well that was the river
This is the sea!
Wooo!

Once every year we visited our grandparents who lived in the country near to the harbour of Lamberts Bay on the west coast of South Africa. Every year we stayed on in and around the town and once or twice we did a day visit to Lamberts Bay. But never had we done any fishing. Then one day, my uncle and his girlfriend invited me to the beach with them for the day. He had some fishing tackle with him as clearly he wanted my occupied while they two lovey-doveys made out on the beach. Near to the beach I saw some rock outcrops and I nimbly climbed up to the top and dropped my first line of the day down the rock. Immediately after it dropped into the surface the lined turned alive in my hands and that was the first thrill I got from saltwater angling. Like any well experienced angler can tell you. If you want peace, you go to the stream and if you want trills you go to the sea.

Now you say you've got trouble
You say you've got pain
You say've got nothing left to believe in
Nothing to hold on to
Nothing to trust
Nothing but chains
You're scouring your conscience
Raking through your memories
Scouring your conscience
Raking through your memories
But that was the river
This is the sea yeah!

The next year back In Namibia I got my first sea fishing rod from my father. It was a hand-me-down and it was a rod my father used in his youth. The rod was made from bamboo and was heavy and cumbersome, but it was my very first sea rod and I was bursting with pride. My father also gave me a Penn reel that he found broken on the beach and repaired with a piece of tin. The reel made a horrible screeching noise when I wound in a big fish and the rod usually tired me out after the third fish. Those were the days that the cold Benguela stream was cold and the fish was aplenty. Life was good and the sea was abundant. I was a young man and the world was at my feet.

Now I can see you wavering
As you try to decide
You've got a war in your head
And it's tearing you up inside
You're trying to make sense
Of something that you just can't see
Trying to make sense now
And you know you once held the key
But that was the river
And this is the sea!

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!

It was a long time since I fished on the beach. Old age has come early for me. The old body are full of fractures and the pain is an ever present throbbing in my veins. The air of the sea is not good for my joints. But still the urge to get down to the beach sometimes caught me on the most unexpected times. And then I will feel the line comes alive in my hands again like that first day I caught my first sea fish from the rocks. And in my heart I will feel the yearning to be there again. I feel the urge to be young again and to feel the thrills of my youth. And for me to make it happen again is to write about it. I want to tell it to you. And to urge you to go out there and do it before your old age will catch up with you and you will only have your memories. I only have my memories, but I have good memories. I have fond moments that I will never forget.

Now I hear there's a train
It's coming on down the line
It's yours if you hurry
You've got still enough time
And you don't need no ticket
And you don't pay no fee
No you don't need no ticket
You don't pay no fee
Because that was the river
And this is the sea!

Behold the sea!

Lyrics: Water Boys: “This is the sea”

story by Harry Louw (copy Right Protected)

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