Last week, Oliver went fishing this his dad, Shaun. Ever since school let out, our 8-year-old son has been begging to go fishing. And last week, he finally got his wish!
For days before they left, Oliver was talking about how they would have to get up in the middle of the night (5am) to leave for fishing. He told his 5-year-old brother, Lyndon about all the hard work he would have to do and how “you’re still too young, buddy. One day, you can come fishing when you’re old enough. You know, you have to stay up ALL NIGHT when you’re a fisherman.” Lyndon looked up momentarily from his lego and said “that’s ok. I’ll stay here with mom.” Clearly our second son doesn’t have quite the same interest in fishing yet as his brother!
Oliver and Shaun headed out early on Wednesday morning and returned late on Friday. During those days, I heard very little. I had one brief phone call to say all was well. Oliver didn’t talk long, but he put on his best grown-up fisherman’s voice saying “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get back to work, mom.” He takes his job as deck hand very seriously.
Upon their return, Oliver walked in the door with a small chinook salmon he had caught. He had cleaned it himself, he announced, and I congratulated him enthusiastically, ignoring the chunks of loose salmon flesh that hung obscenely from the belly of the fish. Clearly he would need a little more practice cleaning fish before we would hire him to clean our CSF members’ fish!
As we ate his prized fish for dinner, Oliver told fishing stories about seals and whales and eagles. He talked about making coffee for dad and how he tried to stay up all night like a real fisherman. After the kids had gone to bed, Shaun explained that Oliver did stay up quite late, fell asleep around 10pm but then, at around 4am as Shaun was picking the net, he heard the cabin door swing open and Oliver was stepping into his pants as he stepped out onto the deck to help.
But the story from this trip that really stuck out for me was about talking to fish. Oliver had told me you have to talk to the fish, but I didn’t fully understand what he meant until Shaun explained. You see, Shaun has always practiced the Coast Salish tradition of thanking the first fish that comes aboard the boat. He speaks out loud to the fish, thanking it for giving its life for our nourishment and for our CSF members. It’s quiet and subtle, but it is as much a part of who he is as a fisherman as his rubber fishing gear. Evidently, Oliver has picked up on this tradition and, without ever being told this is what we do, Oliver has developed his own conversations with his fish. And Shaun recited Oliver’s words to me in the cool evening air: “Thank you for giving your life for us, fish. This probably isn’t how you thought your life would end. But we’ll treat you well and you won’t suffer. There are a lot of nets out here and you could have swum into any of them, but you chose us and we’re grateful.”
