As you can see, this is not the river. It is the ocean, a favorite spot to visit in Rhode Island that I have been going to since I was young. It was Mom and Dad's place and we were always hauled off to see the waves crashing during and after a wicked storm. I found it to be thrillingly exciting.
So was walking the river banks during a hurricane where we mostly got the strong winds. I can remember fighting for my footing quite a few times during that excitement. If i lost my balance I would tumble down the river bank and end up on an overturned boat or in the drink.
I have an older brother who loved to fish. He would go off with his friends though, leaving me at home alone. I find it strange that he recently bought a bass boat and he fishes every night on the lake. If he catches a fish, he lets it go. He hates the taste of fish, any kind of fish. I find that extremely hilarious since we were brought up on fish.
When my brother was not around, Dad would nab me to accompany him in the boat for a fishing trip. I really loved it so can't act too surprised and put upon. The flat fish were abundant (they call it flounder in the market) but flat they were, with two eyes close together on the top side. They were ugly and slimy, bottom feeders. I cannot tolerate to eat them now as they always taste a tad muddy to me.
Often we would go out to the sand bar past Bluff Point at low tide, and unload our bushel baskets and rubber tire tubes. We put the baskets inside the tubes which we tied around our waist to keep them close. Then we would clam until the tide came in. Dad would feel with his feet for the clams and then go under to get them. I was very careful feeling with my bare feet, there were Horseshoe crabs along the bottom and they were big and had hard sharp shells. It wasn't nice to step on one accidentally. When I did feel clams, I would bend over very carefully, feeling with my hand for the prize. I only bent on one side because I couldn't stand water in my face. I held my breath until I found the darn things and then would start again. I'm very good at holding my breath now. Even out of the water!
On the way home, dad and I would just sit and fish. He would troll a little bit and we would throw our lines overboard. I especially liked trolling. It always made me sleepy and dreamy. I would get up on the bow of the boat and lay down, feeling the warm sun and the movement of the boat beneath me. Every once in a while we would hit a wave and the water would splash upon me. That was my favorite part of the day.
At home I would sit beside the bushel basket and shuck clams with Dad. I got to be pretty good at it too. I could almost keep up with Dad except for the scallops. They were a different deal entirely. I always marveled at the beautiful lining inside with the iridescent turquoise blue, like little eyes at the inside edge of the shell. After the shucking came the washing of the meat and cleaning of the shell completely. Then drying and at last, my joy in painting little scenes inside the shells. Scallops have a beautiful shell. Very decorative and many people use them to complete their sea scenes in their kitchens or bathrooms.
The oysters were a different story. They were hard to open and often cut my hands. I never did find a pearl inside. They had little barnacles on the shell and they could really do a number on the hands if not careful. I later learned to use special gloves, much later.
Oops, I got carried away in remembering and there is so much more to tell. That will have to wait for another time. A time to go back to my childhood and to remember again.
Have a good day people.
Hugs
No comments:
Post a Comment