When I was a kid, we lived just up the street from Aldrich Lake, a lake created by one of the Aldrichs, a prominent family in Granby, MA, who dammed Bachelor Brook. The dam and waterwheel were on the other side of the lake - on Aldrich Street, of course! In the summer, occasionally as often as every day but more typically once a week or so, my brother Danny and I would dig some worms from the compost heap, put them in some dirt in a paper cup, and go upstream from the bridge over Amherst Street to fish for whatever we could catch (usually blue-gills). Once, I remember my brother Paul catching a small-mouth bass; he was very proud. Blue-gills are small but we would each catch half a dozen or more in an hour or so, the length of time it took for us to get bored. Sometimes we’d toss them back, but usually we’d bring them home, clean and scale them, then cook the tiny filets over the fire in the backyard. The littlest fish would only provide a bite or two but we immensely enjoyed the entire process.
Danny once caught me with a fishhook while practice-casting on the lawn; my father had to cut the hook out of my arm. It hurt a lot and I had to get a tetanus shot, which only added insult to my injury. My being injured by Danny was not unusual and I sometimes wondered if it was deliberate; he had previously split my thumb-nail with his little hatchet when I was following him up the stone wall into the back yard. He was trying to scare me by chopping as close as possible but he hit the end of my thumb, instead of just striking next to it. Danny and I had a love-hate relationship; he was my only playmate until I started school as all of our neighbors had only adult children, if they had any children. Danny had wanted a younger sibling (me) but was also jealous of the attention I received. Still, he would take me fishing and he never actually pushed me into the water, although he sometimes threatened to do so.
When Jack was five, we traveled around southern Mexico by bus. My mother and stepfather were going to be in Cozumel one day (they were taking a cruise, something that they have always enjoyed), so we planned to meet them at the dock. Cozumel is an island; we arrived in Playa del Carmen, the beach opposite Cozumel on the mainland, the day before, and scoped out the beach and stores on the way to the ferry dock. There was a bakery; I agreed to buy donuts, which Jack craved, for breakfast the next morning. We got up early to catch the ferry across. We bought a bagful of donuts and two sodas for breakfast, eating them on the ferry. I was afraid Jack would fall overboard as he wanted to explore the entire boat; it was quite windy and a big gust could have taken him away. I kept a tight grip on him but I did lose the scarf that was tied around my hat. The ferry dock was miles away from the cruise-ship dock; we took a taxi and arrived as the cruise-ship was unloading. Mom and Frank came down the gangway and met us.
Mom had arranged to rent a taxi for the day. We all piled in and drove to a small set of ruins in the middle of the island, which we explored, then we went to the market. Mom was impressed with my ability to bargain; in fact, I wasn’t interested in buying anything and grossly low-balled a couple of pieces of jewelry but the vendors eventually accepted my prices! Now, I’m pleased; I got a nifty articulated silver skeleton that I still wear. We went to a small beach that was set off from the ocean by a reef; the result was a small, almost circular pool, quiet and calm, that contained many fish. We wore our bathing suits under our clothes and I had brought my mask, snorkel, and fins. Jack wanted a set, too, but I couldn’t find any small enough for him. In any case, he didn’t know how to swim and he usually sank like a rock whenever he tried to swim.
He splashed in the shallows while I swam around, looking at a giant parrot-fish. It was bright blue and over a foot long. It was pretty tame but it wouldn’t let me touch it. Other divers brought bread to feed the fish and the fish would crowd around those divers. I went back to shore where Jack was practically dancing up and down, wanting to see the fish, up close. I got the bright idea that Jack could ride on my back and I could stay at the surface; in that way, he could get closer to the fish that he so desperately wanted to see.
I brought the baggie of donut crumbs into the water with me and Jack climbed onto my back. I swam out to feed the fish. I hadn’t anticipated how excited Jack would get when he saw the huge parrotfish; he clamped his legs around my chest, squeezing so tightly he forced all of the air out of my lungs, crying gleefully, “Grab him! Grab him, Mommy! You can catch him and we’ll eat him for dinner!”
I sank as I no longer had my filled lungs to keep us afloat. Jack got a mouthful of water and released slightly, then clamped again as we both went under. I was able to get a bit of air in through the snorkel though, when he loosened up and now I tightened my chest muscles to keep from losing it again. We sank a bit further and I heard the snorkel go “glug, glug,” as it filled with water. Now we could have been in real trouble, but I was able to surface and expel the water from the snorkel. Jack coughed and I flailed towards shore. Once I could stand up, I told him that he had to be careful to not drown us both! We went out again, but I was careful to make sure I was on the surface when I needed to exhale. Jack still got excited and clamped down as I swam around but we were all right. I handed the baggie to Jack and he got the fish to swarm around us. He loved it but was disappointed when I failed to grab a colorful dinner. I convinced him that we had no way to cook the fish so we returned to shore when the crumbs ran out and the fish departed.
We went off together for a real dinner, then Mom and Frank had to return to their ship. Jack and I caught the ferry back to Playa del Carmen and we continued on our Mexican adventure.
I just realized that I’ve only watched Jack fishing. I never went fishing with him, probably because I don’t think I ever got a fishing license as an adult (kids don’t need them). I’m disappointed with myself. Jack should have seen me doing this activity that I, too, enjoyed as a child.
