Posts
This single day there was:
fog on the water
baby grizzly bear
beautiful blue skies
seals and sea lions
spin casting for salmon
rock fish contest
The smell of camping and Forrest
still waters
Then in the last 10 minutes of this last day
a 16 year old boy catches a 112 pound halibut
Dad whooping and hollering
Boy grunting reeling in such a large fish
All the "it's huge" comments
then the many dead fish pictures
cleaning the fish, cleaning the boat
Bowl of AnneBeth's great clam chowder
and fresh bread
packing fish
exhausted and grateful
all in one day
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
In Alaska I have had some incredible glory unto glory wonderful days.
And what makes them so special is the wonderful friends I have experienced them with.
There is Ken and Joe, George and Jack, Annebeth, Wanda, Sandra. Incredible adventures in pristine enchantingly wild hidden worlds of South East Alaska.
I so wish, I could recall the memories better.
But what does remain is the love and respect for those guys I lived it with.
And the knowledge that these guys will be with me when together we do the big adventures upstairs.
Stay Tuned , Eye has not seen or ear heard all GOD has in store for us upstairs.
Yes, that was quite a day. That boy--my son--had wanted to catch a Halibut since before we left for Alaska. He and I had gone a year or so before to a nice restaurant to listen to his drum teacher’s jazz band. Father and son on a date. He ordered fish and chips, a pretty typical boy dinner. I said, “How about the stuffed halibut?”
ReplyDelete“What’s that like?” he asked quizzically, slightly turning his face up.
“Just give it a try. I think you’ll like it. It’s time you opened yourself up to some more mature kinds of foods.” The waiter smiled in agreement.
I watched him take the first bite. As the music played, he smiled, looked at me, and I knew he was hooked. Not surprisingly, halibut quickly became his favorite fish.
So on the final day of our Alaska trip, when he still had not landed his elusive catch, at the last stop at 8:45 in the evening, my son said, “I think I have something.” Yes, he had something. Something big enough to dive three times with the tension on the reel tight against the 200 pound test. Dad was excited. Boy was adrenalized. Ted remained the calm master of the deck. Thirty minutes of hard work passed, and he had his halibut. A gift from God, the catch of the trip—a memory of a lifetime in the category of first sunset, first homerun, and first kiss.
My son now knows that I had prayed he might land a halibut, but had kept it to myself. The fish of my prayers was of a much more modest size. I believe that as he reflects upon our father-son Alaska fishing trip of his sixteenth year, he will see it for what it was: one of the many opportunities God created to mature him into the man he will become and to understand that we have a Heavenly Father who enjoys blessing His children beyond their expectations.
God used that trip and He used Ted and Annebeth to bless my son and me. I will always be grateful. For me, that trip is now paced in the category of teaching them to ride a two-wheeler, seeing them graduate, and giving away my firstborn in marriage. Thank you, Ted. You’re a gracious man.