I remember going on a boat for the first time. The sun was barely over the horizon when we got all packed up to leave for the adventure, my eyes still crusted shut from the lack of sleep I had received the night before. My dad handed me an ice-cold chocolate milk which woke up my vocal cords, allowing me to speak and ask a million questions—bad choice on his part. My 4-year-old brain was scattered as I was concerned about how fast the boat would go or how deep the water would be. My brother, who is not much older than me, was not worried. He asked me to be quiet many times, and I happily told him no. I waited for my dad to answer all the questions that kept pouring out of my mouth rapidly. It was just us three in the car since my mom was at work like usual. We met up with my godparents who had the boat and they surprised my brother and me with our fishing poles. Mine was pink with princesses on it and my brother’s was red with Lightning Mcqueen. I was secretly jealous of him because I was not a fan of princesses, instead, I loved Cars and Toy Story just like he did.
We eventually made it to the boat launch where we had to carefully back the boat into the water. My dad and godfather loaded the boat with ice chests and supplies while my godmother put lifejackets on my brother and me to ensure our safety. I was terrified at first, but I soon got used to the rocking of the boat. That was until my godfather started driving. I remember screaming because we went “too fast” for me. I was taught how to cast a line and the basics of fishing. I never caught anything but the feeling of throwing the line over my head was so exhilarating. By the time lunch rolled around, my small stomach began to roar with hunger. I remember eating ham and cheese sandwiches while sitting toward the back of the small boat with my dad. We relaxed while my older brother was pretending to be the captain. While I had not caught anything that fishing trip, my godfather did catch some trout that we took home and he fried for dinner. When we eventually did get back home that night and the adults were cooking, my older brother and I took our fishing poles to the small dinghy in the yard. We practiced casting our lines and fishing until dinner time.
I love how you wrote this memory. I felt like I was watching it happen in real time.
I haven’t gone fishing since last year. This made me want to go again.
I love how you wrote this. It sounds like a character is reminiscing! All the details and visuals are so vivid, and I can tell by the picture that it meant a lot to you.