I went salt water fishing this week with my son, grandson, and a guide named Ed. He looked the part of a fishing guide. He was a deep bronze with bleach blond hair (by the sun, not the bottle). He had a spiel befitting a seaman that included banter about fishing, local lore, island names, and fishing haunts. He kept up his talking almost non stop.
When we arrived at the fishing spot he picked for us. (It was special and a secret from all the other fishermen. (Aren’t they all?)) He stood on a platform on the bow of his boat and scanned the water in front of it.
I looked at the water too, trying to see what he was looking for. After a while, he said, there are some drum fish over there. I looked and could see nothing. He continued to see fish and to call out their location. He tried to explain what he was looking at, by saying, “It’s hard to express exactly what I am seeing. It is a slight change in the color of the water. Sometimes it’s just a pale white, others it is an even slighter reddish change in color. See, just there… There they are.”
Try as we could, none of us (landlubbers) could see the fish or the changes he was pointing out. At one point, my son looked at me and made a face suggesting he disbelieved the captain, just as I was beginning to doubt him as well. Just as I was about to return the gesture, I saw a slight change of color to pale white in the water, then an actual fish rolled in the water.
“I see them,” I shouted, as I pointed to the exact spot he was pointing.
My son and grandson looked at where we were pointing. They continued to scan the water without success for some thirty minutes. Then my grandson began to see the fish. A few minutes later my son began seeing them. Then we all could clearly see what was not there minutes before.
Think about it.