Tasmanian Fishing Expedition

The rocky coast of northern Tasmania is known for the natural beauty, serenity and diverse wildlife. Serene, calm nature – a perfect destination for a day trip. I thought I would take my family there for some early Spring weather and a day of sun and fun. And, more importantly, so that we could all embark upon our new hobby of fishing.
I am not traditionally considered a fisherman. Sure, I read The Old Man and The Sea. I’ve watched A River Runs Through It and Salmon fishing in the Yemen. But a Tasmanian fisherman? I would have to prove myself worthy of the title.
The allure of fishing in Tasmania is strong. And we are Tasmanians. So there would be shore fishing and fresh water and casting and fly fishing; procurement of bait and tackle, rods and gear. Waders, hats and jackets with pockets. Day trips with my son. Kayaks and fishing holes and reels and fishing line. Surely we would save money on all the fresh fish we would catch. And it’s a healthy diet. And the stories, dear God. Think of the stories we will tell.
But every fisherman’s career begins with a first cast. And here we were on our day trip. We walked out on a dock of some glorious cove. We walked past several stout men who sat there, drinking beer and smoking, and looking upon us with some wise curiosity. SaiDan began to get excited by the birds and wildlife, and enthusiastically threw some chips towards a flock of seagulls. This made the fishermen angry. “No, don’t let the boy do that!”
Gulls began to swoop, attacking his tray of chips, which scared the sense out of SaiDan so that he threw all of the chips on the ground, attracting even more seagulls.
The chips seemed to have the opposite effect on the Tasmanian fishermen, who began to pack their things to move along. I didn’t really blame them. With the flocks of screaming seagulls now on their way and a screaming baby, they could be excused from enjoying our company. But I was not going to let this minor set back deter our fishing expedition.
The local bait shop recommended live squid as a starting point for the fishing in the area. So, placing the squid upon my hook and line, I shooed away the seagulls, who also seemed to be taking interest in our packets of squid. Yet I was determined to get my line into the Bass Strait.
I am naturally athletic. A fisherman? That was to be determined. But when it comes to learning a new skill I can certainly claim some sense of comfort. So, confidently, I assumed casting a fishing line would simply occur without much effort. My first cast was, perhaps, a bit too enthusiastic. As if launching a Hail Mary, I leaned back and heaved the line up and out.
My word! What an arc, I thought. And, at its apex, as if lost in the morning sun, a seagull snatched it out of the air.
I don’t know if you have ever caught a wild bird while fishing. Sure, some say they put up a stronger fight than many fish. But, honestly, I was a little embarrassed. This amused the fisherman from a distance, who seemed to be laughing at me; meanwhile, SaiDan is again crying, and my wife, God Bless her naivety, is earnestly encouraging me, “Wow, Matt! Great Job.” I don’t think she understood the goal at all.
So I am fighting this seagull on the end of my line. To its credit, it was a mighty bird. But inevitably I eventually reel it in. It was a bit tragic, because now I have this innocent creature by the throat and I we are both genuinely freaked out. Neither of us expected this was going to be the way our day would turn out.
While I mildly knew what to do if, on some off chance, I caught a fish…I simply was unprepared for the possibility of catching any species of bird. And here I am in this peaceful surrounding screaming, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” out loud while nearly choking the seagull. Finally, I unhook the bird and let my first catch of the day just fly away.
So, I think to myself, lesson learned. Next time, I’ll learn what to do if I catch a bird. And the fisherman, who have gone down to the beach, seem to have witnessed the whole incident and are no help whatsoever. They are laughing and smoking and having a good old time at our expense. The only positive effect of my first cast seemed to be that it cleared the air of other seagulls, who seemed to comprehend it was time to move elsewhere.
I was not deterred by my first cast. From one perspective, hey, first cast and I caught something. That’s pretty lucky! And I assumed the worst of this is surely behind me, and only wonderful fishing stories were now to be obtained. So I set back to casting. And cast away I did. For the next hour, nothing happened. It was so boring. And I thought to myself, surely, this is what true fishing is all about.
Suddenly, to my surprise, I felt a small nibble at the end of my line. I was now really excited and wanted to share the moment with my son. I had this feeling, that if he was going to be raised as a fishing buddy, he should have a good experience seeing the thrill involved in fighting a fish and reeling him in. After the horrors of the seagulls, he needed a good experience.
“SaiDan…hey buddy, look at this!”
As I pulled at the line, I vaguely recalled that squid are feed for many, various ocean going creatures. Sure, there are fish who eat squid. And we recently learned that seagulls also eat squid. But out of the back of my mind, I recalled that other birds, too, eat squid. And at that moment I hauled out of the deep, wine-dark sea, a tiny angry penguin.
To its credit, the penguin put up one hell of a fight. I really thought it was a marlin or maybe some sort of a tuna. But no, to my dismay, it was a penguin.
So now I am swearing. And SaiDan is crying. Karpa, my wife, is clapping her hands again, congratulating me. And I have this frightened, vicious penguin flapping about on the dock. And the fisherman from a distance are now laughing, rolling on the beach. I think to myself, surely, they are drunk, no doubt.
So I say out loud, “What. Are. The. Odds?”
I was totally perplexed. But not too perplexed. Because of the earlier incident with a seagull, I now have prior experience. I sort of feel like, yeah, this is yet another tragic incident. But I know it will be ok, and this bird, too, is now likely to survive my wrath. It will be scared and probably scatter all of its raft of penguin friends. But this little guy is going to be ok. I’ve kind of seen this all before. It’s my own little area of expertise.
So I have my foot on this penguin’s head. I’m trying to hold it safely in place while I get the hook out of its beak. And I’m thinking to myself, “Wow, I’m really getting good at this.”
I remove the hook. And I feel terrible. But I also feel kind of thrilled. Because I now have a tiny little penguin in my hands and think to myself, “I wonder how many people get to say that they have held a penguin?”
I did not want to harm this little creature of God. No way. But I again find myself in this predicament of being totally unprepared as to how to release a penguin. And I want SaiDan to have the opportunity to see that we release these creatures. We are not penguin eaters. They are cute little creatures and deserve a chance to thrive considering what we have done to their environment. So, I call SaiDan over and say, “Hey buddy, let’s set him free.”

I let the penguin swim away from the dock. He stayed upon the surface for a moment and then paddled his flipper-feet. And it sort of brought a smile to my face when I reflected on how cute this scene was. And that’s when I noticed six or seven sea lions in the ocean, all darting in the direction of our little friend and I recalled how cruel mother nature is.
So, upon reflection, I suppose I could frame this first fishing voyage as less than a success. Did I catch any fish? Well, not exactly. Did SaiDan have a good experience? Definitely not. Was it fun? No. And one might be attempted to call me an unlucky fisherman. But, from another perspective, what are the chances that someone could catch two birds on their first expedition? From a certain perspective, one might also be tempted to call me extraordinarily lucky.