Bella Goes Fishing

Yesterday we went fishing!

The evening before, Shelley loaned out the golf cart to Anna who was planning a baby shower and had lots of running around to do in preparation. So when our friend Obby (rhymes with "Hobie") called to take Tom fishing, we had to track down the golf cart, which wasn't that hard to do, before Tom could pick up Obby at his house. Tom got lost, of course, and, when he stopped for directions, was given the opportunity to buy some marijuana. He graciously declined.


Obby is a wonderful young married man with three children. 29-years-old, he works a full time job as a waiter at Carramba's from 9:30 am to 2pm, off from 2 to 5:30, then back from 5:30 to 10 pm. He and his wife Ruby also own a restaurant that they run out of their house which Obby is also remodeling. Plus he owns property on the mainland at Orange Walk. And, most important, he has the best personality of about anyone you will ever meet. Hard worker--good attitude. Hard to beat that!

Obby loaded up the fishing gear and lunch that Ruby had prepared for us. (Pork chops, plantains, rice and rice.) Unfortunately, he forgot the fishing bait, but we got that at the same store where we purchased the rum and coke--talk about convenience stores--and off we went.

How's this for a fishing hole?

We headed south of town about ten or twelve miles, pretty much to the end of the island and certainly the end of any road or path, an area called Siete Canales (The Seven Canals). There behind the palm trees and brush was an abandoned dock built originally for a dredging operation. We had to wade into the water before we could get a toe hold up to the dock, and there we set up our gear and lunch.

Bella hangs on for dear life!

We should begin by pointing out that Tom has always, and unashamedly, been a city boy. The fish he remembers from his childhood was frozen, oblong, and already breaded. Obby was typically gracious and showed him how to cut the bait and hook it on his line. Then, "Cast that line out, let the sinker do its work for a little while, point the rod into the wind horizontally, and wait for the little fishies to start nibbling. When they take the hook, bam, pull that rod straight up and start reeling!"

The fish isn't little. Tom is just large.

Honestly, I thought Tom was only out to feed the fish. Bless his heart, he'd throw out the line and wait and wait, then reel it in with the bait nibbled off. But he finally got the hang of it. Only three, and, shall I say, beautiful red snapper, but it was a great start. I'm proud of the boy. Obby caught seven before the fish stopped biting. 

Raw material for drinking cups.

I have neglected to tell you that, unlike the States where beer is a national staple of fishermen, in Belize the fisherman's choice is rum and coke. We had the rum, coke, and ice, but those guys forgot to bring cups! What to do? What to do? Not a problem for Obby. He found a coconut tree, cut two down, and carved a hole in the top of each. Tom and Obby then drank the coconut milk which, according to a local newspaper article, has 88 benefits for humans. Then the holes were enlarged to acomodate ice cubes, and, voila, cups! Tom reported that they worked quite well.


Afterwards, we stopped by an ancient Mayan archeological site where, for ten bucks apiece, we were allowed to walk on a temporary wooden pathway into the mangrove swamps and the land of very large mosquitoes. We always carry Off! with us, it is another staple of island life, so that wasn't a problem, but the site hasn't been excavated very much and there wasn't a whole lot to look at. It was still pretty fascinating, and if you're interested, you can go to this link:
 www.marcogonzalezmayasite.com/history.php

Well, the fish are going to be served today to Tom, Shelley, and five lucky friends. Personally, I still prefer beef, but I will occasionally eat fish, particularly red snapper.

Y'all come visit. We'll have a fish fry. You're gonna love Belize!