The Middle-Aged Man and the Sea

When it's nearly 75 degrees with deep blue skies on a mid-January day, the decision is not whether to visit the beach, but which beach to visit. I decided to take a short drive to Manhattan Beach and explore. I wasn't particularly impressed, but I had an interesting experience on the pier. First of all, I confess that it's been a revelation to me that people actually fish on the piers. Lots of people, on nearly every pier. ("That's what piers were built for!", you're probably thinking. Yea, I realize that now... ;)

On this day, I encountered a loquacious fisherman who proudly showed me photos of sharks and a huge black sea bass that he'd recently caught. Just then, his fishing line tightened up and everyone on the pier ran excitedly toward it. Whatever he'd hooked was obviously big. The fish dragged him all the way around to the right side of the pier, then all the way back to the center, then all the way around the right side again. With amazing dexterity, he angled his fishing rod around the backside of a tall pillar with his left hand, while he ran in front of the pillar and regained control of the fishing rod with his right hand. As the fish carried him quickly around the circular pier, he repeatedly swung his fishing rod around pillar after pillar, with such deftness that it reminded me of the graceful choreography of an orangutan effortlessly swinging through the jungle. After a long battle, the fish finally became visible underwater, and a collective groan emanated from the spectators on the pier. It was a large bat ray, which is not a desirable catch. A minute later, the point became moot as the powerful bat ray snapped the fishing line and swam off to live another day. All that effort came to naught in an instant. But the good-natured fisherman simply shrugged his shoulders and cheerfully announced that it was time to recast the line and try again.