If I had to describe our friend, Jim, in one word it would be debonnaire. CEO and owner of his own event planning company, he hobnobs with the top brass of the Fortune 500 companies. He dresses in the finest clothes, his shoes are Italian leather. So when I heard his daughter, Jenna, wanted him to take her fishing, I knew I had to find out what happened.
Jim and his wife, LuAnn, lived at that time in Newport Beach, an upscale coastal community in Southern California. He'd seen plenty of people fishing off the jetty and decided that would be the place for their outing.
Not wanting to seem less than knowledgeable in front of his daughter, he made a clandestine visit to the jetty, intent on learning all he could about fishing from a couple of seasoned fishermen. As he watched them, he took in the way the men dressed, how they cast their lines and reeled in their catch. He was sure he could do it. Before he left, he asked them what they used for bait.
"Sardines're the best, if you want to catch anything worth frying up for dinner."
These guys fry what they catch for dinner?
Jim wasn't sure about the frying part, but he assumed Jenna would indeed want to keep her first fish. He knew game hunters had their first kills mounted. Could you do that with a fish?
His next stop was the recommended tackle store to purchase rods and reels. He saw some bait in the shop, little jars of round, pink eggs but no sardines. He left without bait.
The next morning dawned bright and sunny for their adventure. They packed up the tackle, and LuAnn handed them a lunch of ham sandwiches in a brown bag. No fancy picnic hamper on a fishing trip to the jetty.
Jim even dressed the part, finding the oldest pants he owned, a pair of designer jeans. He slipped on the fishing vest he purchased with the tackle. As they drove off, he pondered the best place to get bait.
Not seeing any signs for sardines along the highway, he pulled into the first market he spotted. He and Jenna wandered the aisles until they spotted canned sardines that came with their own convenient little key opener.
Jim picked up three cans. That ought to be enough. If those two old coots could catch their dinner with these, he could show Jenna a fun afternoon.
At the cash register, the bill was $17.37. Good grief, those two old guys could have bought a fish dinner for that amount. But they said sardines, so sardines it would be.
When they arrived at the jetty, Jim carried the tackle and bait out to the middle where the water looked deep enough. He baited a hook as Jenna watched, then drew his rod to the side and cast his line, just as he saw the other fishermen do.
The line arched high through the air toward the water.
So did the bait.
Separated from the hook, that sardine flew on its own trajectory. A seagull circling overhead dove and caught it before it splashed down.
Father and daughter looked at each other.
"I don't think that's right, Dad. Are you sure you got the right bait?"
"They're sardines. That's what I was told to get."
He tried again. As he slid another sardine onto the hook, hungry gulls circled overhead in anticipation of a free meal. Jim decided his casting was wrong. Of course! He'd forgotten the back cast.
Bait firmly ensconced on the hook, he flipped the rod backwards and with a snap of his wrist, cast it forward. On the snap, that sardine flipped off the hook and one lively gull caught it midair.
By that time, a small crowd had gathered, drawn by the flock of screeching gulls circling over the sand.
Jim grabbed another sardine, double hooked it this time and cast again.
And again.
He tried tying it on, but the line cut right through the sardine which landed on his shoe.
Each time bait and hook refused to remain together. Each time the crowd roared with laughter.
Frustration mounted.
How had those other guys done it? He was certain of its possibility...somehow. He'd seen the old guys' cooler filled with fish.
He baited and cast and baited again—through all seventeen dollars and thirty-seven cents worth of sardines. When the third can was finally empty, a few rogue bits clinging to Jim's designer jeans, the laughing crowd dispersed, wiping their eyes.
Jenna did finally get her fish, when Jim took a ham sandwich and fixed it onto the hook.
They caught a sardine.
