Today Stuck?! Sketches launches our second challenge of July! Grab the sketch and play along for prizes from Accent Scrapbooking and Wycinanka.
Mom, Dad, Phil, and I took a family vacation to Virginia Beach in the summer after we graduated from college. We all wanted to try deep-sea fishing on this trip, so we made reservations on the Bobbie Lee. On the day of the excursion we arose early, went out for a big pancake breakfast, and arrived at the dock before boarding time.
The crew loaded the group onto the boat (Obviously I don’t know the technical terms used in the nautical life, so I have to stick to generic words like “dock” and “boat.”) and started the lengthy ride out to the well-known deep areas that were good for fishing. They explained the trick about watching the horizon to avoid sea sickness and entreated us to enjoy the view.
Then they set about to chopping the chum.
No amount of staring at the horizon could undo the damage inflicted by the stench of that fish bait. By the time we reached the fishing area, several people were already below deck heaving up their breakfasts, including Dad.
When one of the crew members, with whom we had talked on the journey, made his rounds to check on everyone, he noticed that one of our family was missing. He said in sing-song, “Three little Indians” and kept going.
The three of us muscled through figuring out the poles and the lines (the woman to Phil’s right in the photo tangled her line with his so badly that they had to be cut loose from each other) and tried to enjoy fishing while nauseated. Finally, Mom caved and went inside to join Dad for ginger ale and crackers. Soon after, our taunting crewman came by and sang, “Two little Indians.” I was starting to get miffed.
Once Phil also gave in to the sickness and left me to fish alone, the smug crew member came around the bend, smiled broadly when he saw that only I was left, and sang “One little Indian.” He winked and was gone. I decided on the spot that I could not give in to how bad I felt. I had to represent for the Daquila family.
I stood strong and finished out the excursion on deck and without giving in to the sea sickness. And I remain quite proud of that fact. But oh, I paid for it for the rest of the day. We went back to the hotel room, cleaned up, and napped. And when it was time for dinner, Mom, Dad, and Phil felt great. Fit as fiddles. Ready to eat. I, on the other hand, was still miserable.
Normally, I am a firm believer in standing strong. But in hindsight, there are times in life when you should probably just “cut bait.”
Everything on my page came from the Quoted collection by We R Memory Keepers. I designed and cut the title on my Silhouette.