Fluke

A gorgeous red sunrise reveals brilliant shades of deep green and transforms the muted grays hiding the flat New Jersey coastal pinelands. As the sun grows to a molten orange orb, it gives a foreshadowing hint of the intense heat soon to accompany it. Today, I hope, will be what my kids grew up anticipating as a treasured “family fun day.” Limited resources and a demanding hands-on family business never lent themselves to an extended “real vacation” that many others enjoy. Instead, we explored everything that could be reached and savored within a day’s drive whenever the opportunity appeared. Sometimes we pushed the envelope and commandeered part of the preceding night to make it fit.







I so, so much miss my kids and those memorable times. This morning I’ve been granted a partial reenactment. My now-married daughter’s visit from the Indiana parts of the Chicago ‘burbs has set the stage. It’s the ideal opportunity for a father-daughter excursion since her husband is off on temporary duty in Texas and my bride is with her siblings in upstate New York.






Our mission of choice is to try our hand at salt water Fluke fishing. We are destined to depart soon on a 98-foot party boat called the “Gambler” based in Point Pleasant, NJ. My daughter is what, in deer hunting circles, would be known as a “meat hunter.” She fishes primarily for food over sport. She inherited her taste for fish from her mother. The captain and the mate of the Gambler don’t realize how deftly I’ve slipped the responsibility for satisfying her seafood cravings to them. After a hearty pier-side breakfast, we’re breaking the protective boundaries of the breakwater and are venturing into the choppy Atlantic Ocean.






Soon the ship’s horn signals that it’s time to thread some strips of squid onto the hook and start fishing for Fluke. A big ten-ounce lead sinker takes the bait swirling down about thirty to forty feet to the ocean’s floor below us. The gentle sway of the drifting boat coupled with escalating temperatures makes sleep deprived me yearn for a nap. So much for that wishful thinking.






Soon a cry of “fish on” resounds followed by similar cries from other areas of the boat. The instigators are hungry but pesky inedible Sea Robins—a nuisance fish that are the “horse flies” of the depths plaguing serious fishermen. Occasionally, a Fluke (a supposedly larger cousin of Flounder) or a Sea Bass is pulled up over the rail. However, the intended purpose of our trip—legal Fluke over fifteen inches—are elusive. Finally my daughter breaks through the barrier with a “beautiful” twenty-five inch Fluke. Even if it may be ugly to others, it’s beautiful to her because she views it as four beautiful filets.


As I stare at her prize now imprisoned in a five gallon plastic bucket, I find the Fluke’s architecture (I guess anatomy is the right word) intriguing to say the least. Occasionally it reveals its white underside but mostly it displays a drab camouflage brown upper color. That camouflage now is useless and actually highlights the flat fish in this pristine white bucket. For those not familiar with Fluke and Flounder, the underside of those fish are actually what we humans would call our right side and both little eyes stare from the left or upper side.






My daughter shares a tidbit (later confirmed by the mate) that Fluke are actually born “normal”—swimming vertically with eyes on either side of their heads. Over time their right eye transitions over their head to join the other eye on their left side. Once their small beady eyes (and their focus) have completely transitioned, they never swim upright again and they are relegated to swimming on what was their right side. They hide on the bottom as opportunistic “bottom feeders.” I ponder and wonder if they even fathom the transition that took place.






Now as I write, this Fluke has long since become a tasty meal for my daughter and wife, but it continues to be a contributing life’s lesson for me. Thank you, Mr. Fluke, for your sacrifice that permitted me to relive a cherished father-daughter activity while providing a savory meal for my ladies. I am especially grateful too for the multiple life applications you’ve provided. They’ve strengthened my resolve to not slide (even though I sometimes slip) in my desire “to walk upright.” I don’t want to inadvertently permit a subtle transition to a one-sided focus and adopt a life lying on the “bottom.” I am sure Mr. Fluke has more lessons to share but that’s it for now.










Note to those of you who have inquired: Yes I am still “writing” but I have had an extended period of what I think professional writers call “writer’s block”. Maybe it’s a good sign that I may be improving!