Sturgeon Fishing with the Girls

It's Supposed to Look Like This
courtesy Photobucket.com

More than almost anything else, my friend Jean loved to fish. 

At vacation time, she would organize for her family a fishing trip either to a lake or river fishing resort.

Carquinez Straits
courtesy free maps

During the year, Jean would invite groups from our church to join with her and her husband to go sturgeon fishing in the Carquinez Straits leaving from Martinez.  These trips were on Saturday when the men were off work.  I remember my husband’s cousin spending most of his time lying on a bunk due to being sea sick.  

Jean was an excellent fisherwoman, and she always caught her fish.  One time she invited the young married church group over for a sturgeon barbecue and I remember it being so good. 

Anytime someone mentioned fishing Jean was ready and raring to go.

Out of desperation to fish during the week, she decided to invite some of the ladies to join her for a girl’s day out fishing for sturgeon.  My neighbor cousin, Joann and I thought that would be fun, so we decided to go for it.  We packed a lunch, dressed warmly and were ready when Jean picked us up early that morning.

Joann and I were acting silly, laughing and having a good time.  We would sing to the fish and tell them to take our bait.  The boat captain was a professional fisherman and he did not take lightly to our jolly, rather loud time of fun.

As the day went on, all of a sudden I had a big bite on my line.  Jean came over to encourage me what to do next and it took some time fighting with my catch.  “Let the line out, now pull it in,” all good advice and after many minutes, I lifted my giant fish over the side. 

The captain came over with his tape measure and pronounced, “Not long enough,” as he promptly unhooked my fish and tossed it over the side.

I can still remember that hollow feeling when I realized he had rejected my catch.

In my heart I thought he was upset with us girls and that perhaps this was a chastisement for our loud banter back and forth.  Or maybe my fish truly was an inch short of the minimum.

Although cast down, I continued to fish but not whole heartedly.  I was ready to go home.

 
Oh how this reminds me of that day when God passes out the rewards.  He might say to some, sorry but you don't measure up enough – go over to this side with those who have wood, hay and stubble.

My desire is for him to say, "Just the right measure for you are a keeper – Enter into the joy of the Lord."

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