Narrative on My First Fishing Experience
English 111 March 16, 2009 As my boyfriend and I walked along the crowded pier: we inhaled the smell of freshly cooked crabs, shrimp, and lobster that came from the little blue restaurant that sits right on the pier. I could tell that the pier was an old bridge by the cracked cement and the old yellow road markings. The silver rail that surrounded pier was also aged and rusted. After walking about a mile we meticulously lined our poles on the rusted railing. My pole was blue and silver with bells to let me know when a fish was on my line. We unfolded our chairs and sat down to prepare our poles. My boyfriend showed me how to bait my pole. He took the shrimp that had a sickening odor to it and a knife and cut the shrimp into chunks. He carefully slid the chunk of shrimp onto my shiny hook. “It’s especially important that your hook isn’t showing,” He told me as I looked on with great attention. When I asked why, he said in a deep voice” somehow the fish know not to bite.” Once my pole was ready I had the task of learning how to throw it out. My boyfriend stood behind me and told me to hold the lower end of the rubber grip. He flipped what was called the face, which is a silver piece of steel located at the base of the pole shaped like a c .This piece keeps you in control of the line. He explained to me that in order for the line to go out the way that it suppose to: I had to let go of the line at the same time that I threw my pole. After fishing 101 I practiced trying not to give anyone a concussion. It took five or six times to catch the hang of it. Finally I was fishing, I laid my pole on that rusted rail and waited for my moment. I was so busy learning how to cast my pole that I didn’t realize how beautiful of a day it was. The sky was pink with yellow streaks running through it; the sun was hitting the waves with precision. As I admired the scenery the bells on my pole started to ring. The feeling of excitement took over me. I looked at the tip of my pole