My dad knew a guy with a boat, a friend of his through work who’d won fishing trophies. He offered to take us out.
We woke up in the dark and headed to Great Kills. I was no older than third grade. The only boat I’d ever been on was the Ferry. I haven’t been fishing since.
I don’t remember much, but I caught a fluke and a sand shark. We ate the fluke, but the sand shark stayed in the freezer for months, awaiting an appointment with a taxidermist that was never made.
My dad caught a fluke as well, but the champ came up empty. All he managed were some scrawny sea critters chopped up and tossed back into the water for bait.
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