I try to keep personal snaps out of this but this had to make its way in...
>>
It's a family tradition I would lovingly say
Just a tradition of one, the rest would remark in unison
To go squid jigging on nights at almost every location which had a jetty
For every trip we've been to in Australia
Five years I've been trying
In different states, at different times
Different jetties with different jigs
Full moons, new moons
Information gleaned from online fishing fora
And the oft-repeated mantra
It's different this time
Soon changes to
This time next year
When we depart
The jigs usually left behind
At our last accommodation with a note to wish
Their next owners good luck
Another year, another try
This time I was sheepish, almost embarrassed to pull my equipment out
Just a ratty ol' Kiehl's paper bag
Stuffed with plastic rolls, handlines and fluorescent jigs
As I watched the two men reeling in one after another
Their rods quivering in the moonlight
The jetty, oddly, with its lights off
My family, dragged out for that nocturnal cephalopod adventure
Wrapped up in layers to fight the chill
Looked askance at me when I mulled over the option of simply driving back home
So I did, my hands repeating the motions
Hope, I think she disappeared during the last trip, at the last cold jetty
The drag of seaweed not even eliciting any reaction
Until at last the pull, it registered as real, the tentacles wrapped around the other end
I imagined the fight a lot longer, muscle and sinew tense and taut
Though my wife she says it was less than a minute
When it squirmed its way over the railings and onto the boards
I gave it away to the two men when I left
Didn't bring a pail nor a bowl, I was unprepared to leave with any catch at all
Instead I left with a smile, and bellowed a hearty laugh into the still night
There is a wisdom that is woe
But there is a woe that is madness
I've soared above it all, and returned to catch more
Over and over again at every jetty at every location we stayed at for the next seven days