Parting thoughts from #obx13

People get incredibly friendly the moment you hook a big fish.

Too friendly, in fact.

I know you mean well, dear stranger, and are merely being curious. But when a person has a clearly very large fish on the end of his or her line, it isn’t helpful to stand within mere inches of said person and offer advice along the lines of, “Maybe you should pull and then reel your line in a bit…” Duly noted. Thanks.

All of that being said, I hooked a monster on Jeanette Pier last Thursday. It was probably the fish of my life.

I say ‘probably’ because I didn’t land it. The mistake I made was in bringing relatively light saltwater tackle—I was casting 10-pound test on a medium-size rod and rig—thinking that I wouldn’t be catching large species. And I wanted any fish, no matter the size, to be a fun fight. Hence the smaller setup. The drawback, of course, is that I hooked a mammoth; if I had to guess it was probably a stingray, given the way it behaved under the water once I’d set the hook.

Alas, I’ll never know. I cut the line after a 45-minute fight during which I moved him barely five feet toward the surface. It was either that or watch my rod snap.

Why, and how, did “gourmet” fudge become the delicacy of choice for vacation destinations—specifically beach towns?

I mean, I guess fudge is good and all. But why are there “fudgeries” in every beach town from Maine to Key West? Ice cream I understand. Salt water taffy? Absolutely. But what is it about sand and surf that makes people say, “You know what I’d like right now? Orange creamsicle fudge.”

Pirates are an odd thing to celebrate.

Again, it’s a similar theme in most beach towns, but the Outer Banks is particularly pirate crazy. The stuff is everywhere. Restaurants. Toys. Bumper stickers. Theme parks. Pirates, pirates, pirates.

But what were (or, in the case of the Somali coast, are) pirates, essentially? Vicious criminals who attacked others for profit and ideology. Essentially they were the Al Qaeda of the 17th and 18th centuries. Can you imagine, then, what it would be like for a sailor who piloted around Nassau in 1680 to see how we celebrate pirates today?

Or, better yet, how would we react if we were put in a time machine, whisked away 300 years from now, and there were Al Shabaat-themed putt putt golf courses in Myrtle Beach or a Zawahiri’s Surf N Turf Bistro along beach road in Nags Head?

One last thing about fishing.

I appreciate the friendliness. The desire to engage in small talk. But, please, resist the urge to ask someone who is fishing, “Having any luck?” That cooler full of fresh fish has nothing to do with luck.