by Mike Urvalek  (A poem and a story)

Yellow slicker, rubber boots, high hopes.
A trip with Dad,, memories to create.
Kisses to Mom, nervous stomachs;
Both hers and mine.

A first sign of manhood, at least to me.
A trip to catch fish, or my father's respect.
To follow in his footsteps, to recreate history,
To make him proud as he did my Gramps.

Pulling up to the dock with my gear in tow.
There's so much on the line here.
The ""captain", my uncle, waves from the bow.
Wishes for his own son his own memories.

I'm only a child, but I feel as though I have
The world on my small shoulders.
So much more than fishing trip,
A tradition, a legacy, so much more!

High hopes!  High seas!
Legacies are a hard thing to fulfill.
Dad's watchful eye looks toward my peeked face
However will I make him proud, make him care?

The waves win the furious battle between boy and sea.
My ragged body retreats to the calmness of a bunk.
My heart is a fisherman,, a true descendent of men so strong,
But my stomach, my head, cry for a mother's soft touch.

Sleep is my friend, an escape from the pain.
I dream of the catches i make.
My dad is aglow with pride,
However did he get such a prize of a son?

My dreams comes true, and I feel the soft touch
Of my mothers hand upon my brow.
But her hand feels different,,
Although loving, it is stronger now.

As I wake from my sleep-induced stupor,,
I notice that my comforter is actually my dad.
The big strong fisherman,, the leader, the man!
My love for him has never been stronger!

A fishing trip obviously survived,,
Only to be followed by many more.
Fish have been caught; rails have been hung over;
Shared laughs., shared grub, shared respect.

A father's love; what a goal for a boy,
To know him, to adore him, to be him.
To earn his respect for the man you've become,
To never forget the touch of his hand.

True joy!  True life!  True heaven!

It was way back in sixth grade when I went on my first fishing trip.  It was one of the best experiences of my life.  My dad had told me that he would take me on a trip, but he always said I was too young.  When I turned thirteen, the day came; he told me that I was old enough, and that I could go out on a big trip.  My Uncle Billy is the captain of a 165 foot-charter boat, off of Montauk Point, Long Island.  My dad and his friends always went on trips, and I always wanted go, and now it was finally my turn.  Now it was my turn to go on a trip, and I knew no matter what happened that, on the trip I would have a good time.
A week before we were scheduled to leave for the fishing trip, I was incredibly wild and hyper.  I could not wait to leave.  I must have gotten in trouble about twenty times that week with my mother, because I couldn't calm down.  Three days before the trip I went into my rooia locked the door, and began to pack.  I grabbed anything and everything I could think of to bring.  I threw all of my things into a giant duffel bag, starting with my clothes, then my game boy, magazines, and my whole music collection.  The amount of things that I packed was ridiculous; there was no need for 75 percent of the things I brought.  My bag weighed about 100 pounds, and I could hardly carry it.  The three days before the trip were agonizing.  I couldn't sleep, and I had nothing to do because all of my stuff was buried in my bag.  The day had finally came; we were going to leave at five o'clock in order to get on the boat to ship off at eight.  My dad came home from work early and started to pack all of our gear into the car.  He seemed to have brought more on the trip than I did.  He had buckets, coolers, tons of food, fishing polls, wet suits, and a lot of warm coats.  Once we were done loading up, we jumped in the car and took off for Montauk.
We arrived at the marina at about seven o'clock, and we met up with my uncle.
He was very excited to see my dad and even more happy to see that I was going on the trip.  He told us the fishing was great, and that we were in for a great trip.  I began to unload the car, and I started putting my things on the boat.  The boat was absolutely enormous.  It had three levels, the bottom level was full of beds for sleeping, the main deck was an eating area, and the top deck was where my uncle's captain room was.  After exploring the ship, I went down to meet up with my dad, and we went out to eat.  After throwing a few hamburgers down my throat, it was time to leave for the trip.  It was just starting to get dark, and there was a little chill in the air.  My father and I both went up with my uncle when we were leaving the marina.  When we got to the captain's room my uncle let me drive the boat the steering wheel was immense, and I could hardly hold it. But I got the boat out and on course and we were finally off on our twelve-hour ride to George's banks off of Massachusetts.  That night, I went down to the bunk beds and tried to get some sleep I knew I had a big day ahead of me.  Before I went to bed, I ate a whole bag of Jolly Rancher candies.  The bad part about the candies was that they didn't taste to well coming back up.  The next morning, I was incredibly sea sick I could not control myself, and I puked one time after another.  All the fun I expected to have on this trip did not look like it was going to happen.  Everyone on the boat was looking after me since I was the youngest passenger.  The other fisherman all had different ideas and remedies to try and make me feel better, but none of them seemed to work.  It wasn't till the next
night when I started felling better.  My uncle gave me some medicine, and it made me feel much better.  It was finally time for me to have some fun.
I woke up extra early in the morning and started to fish as soon as I could.  It seemed like every time I dropped my line in the water I would catch a fish.  The only problem was they were very hard to reel up.  It took my about twenty minutes to reel up each fish.  Since the water was 500 feet deep and the fish weighed 50 pounds, it was almost impossible for me to reel it in.  Throughout the day, I caught about ten fish, and I was exhausted.  I put my rod away and went to get some food in my system; I hadn't eaten anything in about two days, and I was famished.  So the trip was over, I got one full day of fishing in instead of three, which upset me, but I was just happy to be able to keep my food down.  I went to bed, and before I knew it, we were done with the long trip home.  We got back to the marina where we started the long journey.
I got off the boat, and I almost fell flat on my face when I touched solid ground.  Even on flat ground it still felt like I was rocking back and forth, like I was on the boat.  During the whole car ride home, I felt like I was on a rocking horse it was a very strange feeling.  At about four o'clock in the morning, we finally arrived back at my house, and I was very excited to be home again.  I ran into my house reeking of fish and salt water and jumped right in the shower.  I cleaned myself for about an hour and got all the smells off of me.  After finally being, clean I put some clean clothes on and went to bed.  I woke up at twelve o'clock the next day, and I told my mom and sisters all the excellent stories from the trip.  I also gave them all the great details of my seasickness, which they didn't appreciate while they were eating their breakfast.  So I finally got to go on my big fishing trip, and I am very glad I went through with it.  I'll trade the two days of sickness for one day of good fishing any day.