What we loved more than anything at camp was to go fishing, and the
fishing was good, really good. Any time we didn't have anything
scheduled and especially after we got kicked off the kayaks we were
down on the shore fishing for some big and tasty trout. One morning
when we got up extra early to fish before we had to get all tarted up
to go to flag ceremony we were down fishing when the morning warning
horn went off which meant we had 15 minutes to get up the hill to our
camp, get changed into our uniforms and be down to the ceremony
grounds to put up the flag and sing a song or something. I wanted to
fish some more so I baited and cast my pole and then put a rock on it
before I ran to catch up with the more obedient of the troop. We got
done with flag ceremony and breakfast and clean up and then I could
go and check my pole. I ran down to the waters edge and there was
still a rock but exactly no pole. I ran up and down a little hoping
that maybe I had just placed it somewhere else and that it was still
here but not precisely where I had left the rock I put on top of it
to keep it safe. It was really gone and the other boys mocked me for
leaving it instead of offering to let me use theirs. I was so sad and
forlorn I went up the hill to a private blue plastic port-a-potty and
cried. I stayed away from the fishing bank for most of the day
because I couldn't stand the pain of it. When I went back that night
to see how the more wise boys had made out the greeted me by telling
me that Jay had caught my pole and reeled it in and it had a big fish
on it. I was so excited because technically that was my fish.
Unfortunately it was more Lord of The Flies then that. Jay figured
because he caught the pole that both the pole and the fish were his
and he had been using my fishing pole all day. He was so much bigger
and violent that when he said he was just going to keep my fishing
pole I made the barest of protests. He didn't let me use it again
that trip, he kept the pole for the rest of camp and took it home and
as far as I know still has it. A great poet once said it was better
to have fished and lost then to have never fished at all – or
something like that anyway.
