My first real day in Florida I (unknowingly) grabbed a large hunk of fire sponge and emerged from the depths with my prize proudly squeezed between my fingers. Oops.
I still don’t know how I feel about this whole fishing thing. I mean, yeah, it is exciting to catch something, reel it in, and then eat it for dinner. I know it’s just a fish. I’m not even a vegetarian. I participated in the activity, catching and filleting my first fish, a lane snapper. But I still can’t get over how bad it makes me feel.
A group of guys returned from an afternoon fishing trip with a three-foot female bonnethead shark. Out of curiosity, I stuck around to watch the fish get filleted. Eight dead and tiny shark babies were laid on the sunbleached wooden table. The stripped meat twitched in the bucket long after the shark was dead.
A manatee visited our dock the same day as the shark was caught. He stuck around for 45 minutes while we served him fresh water through the hose and fed him clumps of lettuce. He rolled over onto his back and showed us his fingernails. We named him Mannie.
I spotted Mannie’s nose poking out of the water the next afternoon from the balcony of the bio station. I got everybody all riled up and we ran down to the dock together, lettuce in hand. I hadn’t been wearing my glasses. It was not a nose. It was a floating coconut.
I found a type of green algae at the research site that no one in the 47-year history of the Goshen College Marine Laboratory has found. It is called Boodleopsis pusilla.
Carly went to Sixmilebridge, Ireland, and I crossed the Seven Mile Bridge to get to Key West. Instead of shopping for souveniers or getting trashed on overpriced, sugary margaritas, Sam took Lynzy and me “Geocaching” with him. It was awesome. We found the southernmost point in the continental U.S., spent 20 min in a bar trying to contact someone near a computer to take a screengrab of us on a specific webcam, ate a half-pound chocolate chip and pecan cookie, and chased wild chickens. It was an amazing way to experience the city.
Over the course of this trip, we have spent more than three hours inside “Worldwide Sportsman,” a giant saltwater version of a Bass Pro shop. If I were at all interested in either fishing or spending lots of money on fishing supplies, this would be a fantastic place to spend time. It does have a redeeming factor: “‘Pilar,’ the famous sister ship to Hemingway’s boat” resides inside the store and, consequently, there happens to be a lot of Hemingway literature for sale. By now I think I’ve read almost all of his short stories sitting in front of Worldwide Sportsman’s crinkling cellophane fireplace.
I’m too scared to be a real adult.
Maggie
