Angela McFarlane is a precise woman. She is also quite charming. I learned these two critical facts about Angela today - the first day we met. Angela is the Chair of the Education Department at the University of Bristol and, like me, is staying at "Camp November" in preparation for Alan's Building Learning Communities Conference.
In the midst of last-minute details and tasks, Alan November invited Angela and me to go fishing. Well, kayaking, really, while trolling for striped bass. I live in Seattle so I know how to kayak, as do most Northwesterners. Fishing from a kayak is, as I've discovered, entirely different.
You start with worms.
These are not your ordinary, night-crawler variety, but rather frilly sea worms that look like something not of this planet. They seem docile enough; but then there's the hook, which you have to "thread" with the sea worm. Not pleasant. Neither for the worm nor the threader.
There is, of course, a fishing pole. In a single kayak, such as I was using, one has to juggle the fishing pole by oneself along with the paddle and the hook - a nasty looking curve of metal that you don't want any where near you...unless, of course, you are engaged in the unfortunate task of threading it with a sea worm.
Completely and utterly absorbed, I set out following Angela and Alan, who were in a much more stable double kayak, into the Atlantic on our mid-morning fishing/kayak trip.
Angela fished with charm and precision while Alan paddled into clear blue-green waters. The tide was nearly at its height as rolling swells came in from the vast Atlantic. Black back gulls and sooty cormorants roosted on nearby Rams Island, and the sun sparkled like emeralds on the water's surface. The scene could not have been more beautiful.
Or so they told me.
I was too busy ensconced in unraveling fishing line, keeping up with Alan and Angela, and threading worms.
We had a few nibbles, but it was great fun.
Or so I heard.
Later in the day, Alan suggested that we catch the Salem Ferry into Boston. We thought it sounded splendid, and so we drove to the town of the famous Witch Trials. Apparently, witchcraft is still practiced in Salem, and most things there have a bit of the peculiar.
We boarded the "SS Nathaniel Bowditch" precisely at four o'clock bound for downtown Boston. It was a lovely trip followed by quick walk around Boston. Angela inquired as to the time of the return run to Salem and was told the ferry would depart at 5:10. Alan and I had just purchased lucky Boston Red Socks hats when we saw the ferry pulling out into Boston Harbor. We looked at our watches - it was only five past five. As Alan and I started to panic, Angela quickly made her way to the ferry ticket counter.
I've lived in Seattle for nearly twenty years and when you miss a ferry, you miss a ferry. No matter what. They never turn around for anyone: governors, legislators, rock stars, retired Microsoft execs - no one. It just never happens. So it was no small surprise when we saw the Nathaniel Bowditch reverse its engines and make its way back to the dock. We simply couldn't believe our eyes: Angela, with her inimitable charm and sense of precision, managed to reel the ferry back to the dock. She explained, in her charming British accent, that the ferry left the dock too soon and simply had to return to pick us up.
We boarded while the passengers looked at us with mouths agape. We must have seemed awfully important. As we extolled Angela's newfound superpowers, she merely shrugged her shoulders and said, "I expected the ferry to return to the dock and so it did. You just have to believe. "
We decided to test our newfound belief and try our hand at fishing once again - only this time with "witchy" sea worms we bought in Salem.
Now at sunset, Alan and Angela set out in their double kayak while I paddled like mad to keep up in the single kayak. In no time at all Angela adeptly reeled in a beautiful large-headed striped bass as Alan kept the kayak steady. While the fish was impressive, it was just under the regulation twenty eight inches and so was thrown back.
Meanwhile, as I struggled to keep up while threading one of the spirited witchy worms from Salem, the little bugger bit me in the finger. I nearly swamped the kayak as I jumped back in my seat. I didn't know that sea worms had teeth! Sharp little incisors, too.
Somehow managing to get the thing on the hook and into the water, I heard the reel sing out and found myself wrestling what seemed like a mammoth striped bass. The fish actually began to tow my kayak towards shore as I held on for dear life yelling repeatedly, "Fish on!" Alan, having never heard the term before, calmly turned to Angela and asked, "What did he say?"
Angela expertly maneuvered their kayak into position so that Alan could net the fish, a whopper at nearly thirty-six inches. It was, without question, the biggest fish I had ever caught. We kept kayaking and trolling and Angela caught her second striped bass, though it was smaller than her first and was also thrown back. As the sun set on the pink-hued cliffs, we hauled in our lines and headed towards shore.
As I paddled back to Marblehead, I reflected upon the events of the day. When things fall into place one gets an almost organic sense of flow. Individually anticipating events and then believing that they will come to fruition is great, but doing so in collaboration makes it even better.
Yes, I did catch a three-foot striped bass in a single kayak. But only thanks to Alan for inviting me to be a part of his learning community, and to Angela...because Angela, with her inimitable charm and precision, caught a seventy-foot ferry.
blc 2007
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