T. GAMBLE: I’ll take a cane pole, shade tree, beer … heavy on beer

I just came back from going deep-sea fishing with the 13-year-old Hurricane Boy and 14-year-old Princess Girl. I normally would just say 14-year-old princess, without the girl added, but in today’s world, calling someone Princess does not guarantee the sex of the named person.

In fact, in today’s world, apparently there is not a guaranteed sex period. You can be a boy, girl, binary, no-nary or nary a damn thing I’ve ever heard of in my entire life. But I don’t have time to discuss biology and all its repercussions even though I am highly qualified to do so, having taken four biology courses in college. Well, actually I took two courses, but I had to take each one twice so that sort of makes me an expert in the field of biology.

My boy has become consumed with the ambition of doing nothing but fishing. As far as I can tell, this means he should fit in in south Georgia for the rest of his life. He insisted we go deep-sea fishing and that we catch some big fish. I’m fine with catching fish and going out to sea, but big fish take a lot of effort to reel in.

I do not go fishing to exercise. Baiting a hook almost gets me out of breathe. I won’t use a top-water plug, as it requires me to jig the pole. Nope, I like a cane pole, a shade tree and some beer. You can leave out the cane pole and tree, and I’ll still be pretty happy.

They also do not give away these deep-sea fishing excursions. I think our fish cost about $12 a pound pro-rated out for the price of the ride. Of course, the Hurricane is not concerned about costs, only big fish. Well, he caught a Goliath grouper that weighed about 200 pounds. I’ve seen uglier creatures, but not since they cancelled the Rosie O’Donnel show.

In fact, on my last scuba diving excursion, and I do mean my last scuba diving excursion, I swam over a plateau and came face-to-face with a Goliath grouper. I don’t know what it weighed, but it was bigger than my first car, a ’68 Galaxy 500, and uglier, too, if that is possible.

Goliath grouper are prehistoric looking, and they will bark at you like a dog if you get too close to them. Just for the record, I do not like to be barked at by 500-pound fish while I am underwater with them. I also know Goliath grouper eat stuff like plankton and algae, and not meat, but who’s to say that one might not decide to at least sample a little meat just to see what it tastes like? A 500-pound fish could taste quite a bit of, let’s say, my right leg, so I really don’t want to swim anymore with them.

The boy struggled mightily and hauled in the big fish. The girl followed with a nice amber jack and a big red snapper. I finally got my turn. The rod bent down profusely, straight to the bottom of the ocean. My God, I might have a sailfish the way this thing pulled. I struggled and struggled. Pull the reel up, dip the rod, reel in fast, pull back up. Over and over and it went.

They needed to go ahead and contact the Medi-Vac helicopter, as I was not going to survive this battle. But then it happened. I pulled the fish to the side of the boat. Poor thing, exhausted, worn out, no fight left in him … That’s me I’m talking about. The fish looked fine, a red snapper that might weigh 6 pounds on a good day. The Hurricane roared with delight. The Princess posted a picture of me and the bait fish on Instagram. They went back to fishing. I went looking for my pride.

And we let the Goliath grouper go. There’s no way I’m cleaning a 200-pound fish after all that.

Email T. Gamble at [email protected].