Oceans For Emotions: Being truly rich has nothing to do with money
Oct. 14, 2011 at 5:14 a.m.
By Elaine Wheat
"Treasures of wickedness profit nothing."
- Proverbs 10:2
Today, I had only a light case of fishing fever, so I went to my nearest ocean to get a light dose of "vitamin sea." I only took a light load of fishing tackle, one rod and reel, one tackle box, bait bucket, stringer and one light, rolling ice chest. I named today's fishing, "Fishing Lite."
To make things easier, I went straight to the Indianola Fishing Marina where I could sit on their chairs, use their restroom, eat the food they prepared me and buy my bait instead of catching my own.
Fishing Lite may be better called Fishing Lazy.
I know a little spot at the marina that I can usually rely on to hold at least one good flounder. I just sit in a marina chair and cast across the channel that leads boats out to bigger and better waters. I always give the right of passage to the boats, but none were unloading in the boat slip, so I quickly soaked a D.O.A. shrimp at my trusted flounder hole.
My flounder nibbled, tasted the shrimp, played with the food on his plate like all flounder do, and finally, I could feel him take the bite. He flipped out of the water, swirled back in and stuck himself on the sandy bottom like all flounder do.
I tight-lined him, loose-lined him and pretended not to care while doing my catch-a-flounder-tricks that went on and on for a long time. As luck would have it, I heard a boat turning to cross right where my line was crossing.
Now, this was not some little friendly fishing boat. No, it was huge boat with twin motors rumbling, and it had every fishing boat toy I had ever seen. They didn't have to know the bay to find fish, all they had to do is read one of their many gadgets to tell the where, when and how deep they should go.
I yelled at them in my best teacher's voice to stop, and they rumbled, grumbled to a stop and asked me if I wanted them to cut my line since I was hung up. I explained to them that I didn't have a rock, I had a big flounder and had been battling him for half an hour. We were at a fisherman's stand off, and I could tell that I was out-powered.
To my surprise, they slowly backed up, dropped anchor and became my cheering squad as I battled my flounder finally to the sea top and across the cut to my waiting, wearing arms. I was even more surprised when they remained anchored there in their power boat and kept on fishing there where the old lady with the fish hat was leaving.
Dear Lord, thank you for rich people. I could tell they were truly rich because they were truly nice.