“Fish on…”

 Shared by Breanne Smedley

For as long as I’ve known Brett, he’s been obsessed with fishing.

When we lived on Whidbey Island, it happened almost daily. It’s hard not to when you can drive in any direction for 5 minutes and hit water.

Saltwater, with the prospect of Salmon swimming just beneath the surface.

He would try to get me to join in with him, and I would from time to time.

From the bank, or from our 10-foot canoe where the fish would practically drag us across the straight as we tried to reel them in.

I never quite got the same fever for fishing that Brett has, though.

A lot of waiting. 
Guessing which bait the fish would like today. 
Wondering if there were actually any fish…because it’s been an hour without a bite.

Sometimes, Brett goes out with fishing guides.

Mostly in the ocean, where he’s had a ton of luck.

There is one guide that goes out of La Push that he talks about a lot, named Randy.

Brett’s told me a lot about how great of a guide Randy is. 
Knows where the fish are. 
Straightforward. 
Limits every time.

He would tell me that I should go out on a charter with him, but that he’s “a little rough around the edges.”

“I’m not sure if you’d like him. He’s from Forks. A little crude. But, we’ll get fish!”

This past summer, we decided to make a family trip out of it and go on a guided fishing trip with Randy.

Brett, Kristina, Sennad, Brett’s dad Rick, and I rose at 3am the morning of our trip to make the 2-hour drive from La Push to Neah Bay.

“Randy says that’s where the fish are today.” Brett told us.

We found the dock where Randy was, and got cozy inside the cabin of his boat.

Randy drove us out to the spot we were going to fish that day and entertained us with stories as the sun started to peak above the water.

Mostly stories about his botched attempts with match.com.

He had us all rolling in awkward laughter as he divulged his extensive and detailed dating history.

We finally reached the part of the ocean where we were going to start dropping our lines.

I couldn’t tell you where we were. All the water looked exactly the same to me.

At this point, Sennad and I were experiencing some seasickness…

But, I was coherent enough to witness a master in action.

Randy got into a flow and it was like watching a fish-smelling, grungy form of ballet.

Tying leaders. 
Baiting hooks. 
Setting lines. 
Steering the boat at a precise speed and direction so the lines don’t become tangled.

Not minutes later I hear, “FISH ON!”

Followed by a frenzy of reeling and coaching.

“Let him play!”
“Reel, Reel!”
“Tip up!”
“Bring him closer to the boat!”
“NO, NOT LIKE THAT!”
“Net!”
“Got him!”

It continued, for hours.

Randy, making it look easy. Slaying fish. 
At one point, another guide called him and asked where the fish were. They had been out all day, with no luck. Meanwhile, our boat had a limit.

On the way back, we got to chat with Randy a little more.

He said he grew up in these waters. Nearly 50 years he’s spent fishing them, 20 as a guide.

He told us that one year, when he was going through a divorce, he guided every single day.

365 days in a row, practicing.

Studying the water. 
Maneuvering the waves. 
Weathering each sunny, rainy, cold, or snowy day. 
Learning the patterns of the fish.

Things you can’t just learn in a classroom.

That’s how you get good.

There are no quick fixes. Silver bullets.

If you want to be a master at anything, nothing can replace the long road.

Study. Learn. Practice.

Every day.

===

#InspirationallyImpactful

Check out what we're up to now!