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Monday, September 23, 2024
HomeAll About FishingRising Previous Gracefully with a Fishing Rod in Hand

Rising Previous Gracefully with a Fishing Rod in Hand


As we go away the dock in Cherokee Sound (Abaco – birthplace of my mom) for one more day of fishing, I can’t assist however mirror on the sight and sound of the ocean. The ocean that evokes a oneness with the universe with a rhythm unchanged for the reason that earth was younger. We had been heading out from a coast unblemished by man with voices solely of waves, sea birds, and bushes wind pushed by salt spray.  

Cherokee Sound, Abaco (Picture by Simon Rodehn)

My mentor for the day is my Uncle Kenneth (former Auditor Normal of the Bahamas and 4-time Olympian as a sailor within the Finn Dinghy). As we go away the harbor, I’m on the outboard and my uncle takes his regular place as “captain” on the bow. I’m awaiting minor course changes by way of hand signs from him.



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