Retirement should mean life without complications. Things should flow smoothly along day by day. I relax on my fishing boat in Anguilla and enjoy what comes my way—hopefully a big fish for dinner. I thought long and hard before I quit working as I was worried about filling the hours. It turned out to be an unnecessary worry. If I am not sitting on board smoking a cigar looking at the water, I am talking with other boat owners about our latest adventures. We seem to have plenty of them. I meet new people; I frequent the local eateries and bars; I catnap when I feel the need. Life is good.

I live in a condo which takes a lot of the burden off me to take care of upkeep and maintenance. For example, one day my ceiling fan just stopped working for some reason and I put in a quick call to the landlord after he sent me a link to choose a new one from https://www.ceilingfanchoice.com/. I didn’t have to lift a retired finger to try to figure out what went wrong and fix it. Let Jim take care of it as always. He comes over with his handy toolbox and impresses me with how fast he can repair or replace almost anything. One time it is the garbage disposal and another the stove isn’t calibrated. Maybe it is the washer or dryer or occasionally the light by the front door. Score another one for retirement. It is the good life when you can do what you want and avoid all the hassles.

Retirement means sailing on quiet seas under a blue sky with occasional white clouds. It is stocking up on your favorite beer and loading your boat fridge. It is wining and dining any lady on the island and enjoying the fine local fare. It is taking walks at night in balmy weather and not a care in the world. If you are worried about being bored, forget it right now. You make your own fun. There are always people around to help you. You can take a trip anywhere in the world if you have saved up properly for your golden years, and don’t wait too long. You don’t want to be too old to roam the globe. I am content to roam Anguilla most of the time. I have had my share of world travels. Now is the time to savor the pleasures of island life. Sitting on a white sandy beach watching the waves roll in is my idea of heaven. Plus, there are tons of tourists to watch trying to master the new sport of surfing. They usually aren’t very successful, and their mishaps give me hours of amusement.

I have a final message in today’s blog. Plan your retirement so you can mark the days and look forward to a new kind of excitement. Life has challenges in any period of time and living on an island fills the bill for me.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. I hate going to the doctor, but the least fearful is the podiatrist. I go to get my toenails cut as I have ingrown nails on the big toes. People with diabetes also frequent this popular physician, but I am not there yet. I love that he recommends regular foot massages to keep the circulation going in my lower appendages, as he so formally calls them. A toe is a toe is a toe as Gertrude Stein might have said (she’s the nutty American poet who invented “a rose is a rose is a rose…”). So much for a literary reference. Let’s get back to my foot massage. This blog today is devoted to this wondrous treatment. I sing the praises to all who will listen. If you have never tried it, please read on.

I was hesitant at first for some unknown reason. It was almost a phobia. I associated a foot message with a prissy pedicure. I also thought it would hurt. I know that men get them, but not me. Even when a girlfriend suggested a couple’s pedicure, I balked. I prefer more masculine pursuits. So I didn’t listen to either her or my podiatrist. One day I was walking by a day spa/salon and saw a man sitting in a chair within view. He was getting a foot massage and he seemed to be quite happy about it. He had a big smile on his face, so I went in.

“How does it feel,” I asked. He replied that it helped his aching bunion. He walked a lot during the day for exercise and even in sandals, standard on the island, his feet were sore. “Have a seat,” he beckoned. This is how I found out about the magic of human hands. No self-application with a store-bought appliance for me. I was considering this route since I could do it at home with no one watching and therefore please my doctor. But no. After this impromptu foot massage, I was hooked. It is the salon forever.

I thanked the customer who lured me into paradise and left. I couldn’t wait to come back. I didn’t need an excuse because it was doctor’s orders. I wondered if I could deduct the foot massage as a medical expense on my income taxes. Why not? Ha! Just try and audit me, devil IRS, and you will be vanquished. I am quite sure that this is a new one for the rule book. I love being a deviant. A touch of perversity is in my nature. Meanwhile, I go about my business and enjoy my fabulous boat. When friends and family are gathered, I extol the praises of my foot massage. I hand out cards for the salon to promote their business as a favor. In return, I get an occasional freebie. I don’t turn it down.

When I was shopping in St. Martin last month, I bought a bag, akin to a backpack, in a fishing store to house all my stuff. I wanted one place to put everything as I board my boat. The more separate items I have to carry, the greater the chance of leaving something behind. The bag was clearly for fishing as the compartments were just the right size for small things, and it had all of the features listed here. It wasn’t the same as a modern business bag although there are some similarities. You do want a place for your sunscreen, sunglasses, cell phone, protein bar, and bottles of water. The rest is a bit different.

Fishing season is all ear round in Anguilla lucky for me. I don’t have to wait for a special time or vacation. Thus, my fishing bag is a well-stocked tackle box. While each fisherman likes special items, I have my priorities. You must consider the type of fish in your area, whether you are deep sea fishing or in a lake or stream. No doubt you will include extra line in case yours breaks or gets tangled. A heavy, durable line is required for rough conditions. Obviously in a smooth-as-glass lake, it can be thin and clear. (It is all about stealth more than control).

Next comes a good sampling of hooks in different sizes. As above, river or lake trout will not require he same one as a huge marlin. Some fishing aficionados like bobbers or floaters so you know when to reel in a caught fish. Using these gadgets means you need a slip bobber so it can move up and down your line. Some of you might use sinkers to add weight to a hook and worm for example. They are made of lead for the most part, although there is some environmental concern about this. Alternative materials are brass, steel, tungsten, and bismuth.

I said everything goes into my bag, but I must say that this excludes live bait. I do carry some plastic worms in various colors and sizes. They are said to promote more bites from the fish. Then there are the requisite lures. There are hundreds to choose from depending upon where you are fishing and the size of the prey. They are called “spinners” because an attached blade creates movement to attract the fish. I advise a needle nose pliers to take the hooks out of the fish after they are caught. Last, I add a line cutter in the form of nail clippers or a knife. If you have no choice when you get a snag, this will come in mighty handy.

Sometimes there are mishaps and minor injuries. So, my “tackle box” backpack contains a first aid kit. You might get nabbed by a hook or you could fall and scrape a knee. You need bandages, Neosporin, medical tape, and the like.

You can have the best time in Anguilla even if you don’t go boating or fishing. It is an island of complete recreation. You can snorkel, take a hike and enjoy the view, or just sit on your hotel balcony with a mai tai. While fishing is my favorite way to pass idle time, lolling on the beach is a close second. The sand is soft as silk and warms the toes immediately and reaches your inner soul. The expanse of shore can be seen for miles. Most people are rooted to one spot to enjoy sunbathing and dipping their feet in the inviting cool water. They stare at the small waves and watch the distance swimmers. Big umbrellas populate the area accompanied by huge towels on which to recline. Sliding back chairs are as popular as the inflated balls and ice coolers.

Joggers with dogs run along the wet sand, accumulating the gritty stuff on the legs as they progress. They stop to brush it off. Older folks are strolling slowly, protecting their faces with sunhats. Everyone is slathering on the SPF cream, especially the kids. It is a glorious day to be outdoors and at play, which is almost always the case in Anguilla. It is my own personal paradise.

When you see how many people come and go over a period of months, you understand why someone would try his or her luck with a metal detector. The hunters come late in the afternoon after the crowd has gone home. I have been known to wield this device now and then to uncover lost coins or jewelry. I have a little suede bag that holds the booty and I have established a sort of lost and found for tourists. Most don’t know they have left anything behind. If you are inclined to try this out, I recommend taking all of the things on this list from Finding a Fortune plus a sand sifter to help you separate out what is hiding the good stuff. If you have a sensitive metal detector, you can weed out the bottle caps and pennies. The higher the setting, the more junk is found.

I don’t spend that much time at it as I would rather by on my boat. I usually take home a few stray quarters at best. One day, however, I had a big haul and it came as quite a surprise. My trusty detector finally found gold. It was a lovely pendant in the shape of a dolphin attached to a weighty gold chain. It could have been worn by a man or a woman. Given the subject matter, it might have been from a local jewelry shop. It found an immediate spot in my lost and found, and it sat there for quite a while. Some time had passed when I heard a visitor board my boat. “Hey there,” he shouted. “Come on in,” I replied. It turned out that he had lost the dolphin while on vacation and he had just returned for another few days in the sun. Someone told him about my lost and found and he thought he would take his chances. It is a good thing he did. Eureka! Now he fold gold.

Tourists on Anguilla are a godsend and they pump up the local economy. We welcome the landing of each plane. They spend money on food and lodging and love to shop. They keep the seasonal fishing industry alive. They are fun to have around and you see them everywhere strolling along wearing big sun hats and glasses. Cameras are in tow for the diehards who refuse to use a plebeian cell phone. The locals try to be friendly and accommodate their needs for a wonderful vacation experience.

I benefit from this human influx since I rent out my condo when I am gone or living on my boat. In fact, I prefer my floating home most of the time. It is a true retiree’s lifestyle. The condo is nice, however, with a grand view of the water through a big picture window. It is spacious and full of light. It has all the modern conveniences, especially in the kitchen. Guests love it. At least most of the time. I hate the ones who gripe about this or that. The last time I had paying residents, they bitched about the lack of hot water. It caught my attention.

I hadn’t heard this one before so I looked at my current heating system. Maybe the pilot light was out, but that couldn’t be right: the unit is tankless and runs on electricity, and when I got it from https://www.waterheaterwatch.com/, it was the best model they had. I had to resort to an expensive plumber. “You’ve got a beauty here,” he crooned. “It is a new model and certain state of the art. I’ll have in working in a jiffy.” And he did. One hundred dollars later, it was producing hot water on demand. I hoped that this would be the end of the matter.

He promised me that the hot water would not run out and would be consistent in temperature to please each and every guest. I had to believe him. I was about to go fishing for the day. Suddenly, I had a craving for a fresh grilled fish dinner. I am not choosy about the catch as I know what to expect on the island. The next day I queried the renters and they seemed quite content with the hot water heater and thanked me for my quick attention to the matter. “You are a good landlord,” they said. I beamed with pride inside. They couldn’t see me as we were talking on the phone.

I made a nice profit with my crop of guests. If I had to replace the hot water heater, it would not have been a problem. But, alas, it was in great working condition. I can apply the income somewhere else. I can paint the living room, redo the kitchen countertops, put in insulated windows, or maybe a new low-water toilet. There is much to do with any property, especially one built decades ago. Condo owners on Anguilla are attentive to the tourists and aim to please with comfortable rentals. I oblige.

I couldn’t wait to retire so I could pursue my love for fishing. I did a bit when I worked, upon occasion, given my limited time, and I remember learning the tricks of the trade with my dad when I was young. I took to it mighty fast and I am in seventh heaven now that I can go fishing whenever I want. It is the most popular sport where I live. There are many reasons to gravitate to this sport, whether it is the deep-sea type or fly fishing in a stream. I enjoy both. I suppose down inside every man is an urge to be outdoors in glorious weather with a rod in hand. Reeling the big one in has got to be the epitome of excitement. In the mountains, the fish are smaller. In Anguilla, I have a lot of variety. No wonder I saved every penny while I worked to live here in paradise. There is something magic about a tropical island.

I have spent many hours acquiring the right equipment and storing it in my backyard shed. It is ready and waiting when I get the urge. Living on an island is an exquisite experience and it is always gorgeous outside. I have many a photo on Instagram to prove it. I also have fish stories, the real kind, not the exaggerated ones. Today, however, I have an urge to complain. I hate online shopping.

It’s okay for fishing gear, but I prefer to select it in person. This preparation is part of the fun. I don’t like shopping online for most things, however, as it is a bit of guesswork. You also can’t have the item right away. I am miffed right now because I need a new vacuum and I haven’t a clue which brand to buy. While I must promptly survey the field from Bissell and Hoover to Dyson and Kenmore, I do know that I want a canister model. The upright vacuum is fine for a certain lifestyle. I don’t want to maneuver something enormous or have to store it.

Selecting the best vacuum for a good price is intimidating on the Internet. There was just too much information to consider until I discovered https://www.thevacuumchallenge.com/canister-vs-upright-vacuum-hepa-filters/. While it doesn’t pertain to fishing per se, it does have to do with cleaning up. I can bring a messy tackle box home and wet shoes that track dirt and mud. I have spent more time than I care too reading the pros and cons, but the upright is definitely out. The powerful and versatile canister is the big winner. It costs the same, has more attachments, takes up less room, and has a good reputation. If you have any problems, it comes with a warranty.

Now that I have finished this chore and have ordered the vacuum of choice, I can get back to reading articles about fishing. Now that is how I like to use the Internet!

I had some idea that I would love my retirement on Anguilla, but I wasn’t sure why. I would probably be the fishing because I have been enjoying the sport since I was a little tyke and my dad would take me as much as he could. It stirred something deep inside and I go whenever I can. After all I live on an island. It was a big reason I selected this lifestyle, not to mention the fabulous opportunities for boating. You meet friendly people in such an environment and share experiences. I wouldn’t trade the place for any other. I don’t want an apartment in Paris, a castle in Ireland, a beach house in Thailand, or home near the best mountain resort. I want to stay where I am.

I am happy and content as one of the clams I see on the beach. I credit the great weather for my good mood. You get bright sunshine most every day. It is endless summer with a near perfect daily temperature. If we have one cloudy morning, I wake up depressed. This happened to me often where I used to live until I couldn’t tolerate it anymore. I had to relocate to a climate with an azure blue sky with maybe a few white puffy clouds. I want sand and surf in my life. Now that I have it, I realize how much the weather affects me. Some people even say that a lack of sunshine causes depression. It can be a serious condition if you need more sunlight than you get. Depression is rampant in Finland, Sweden and Norway because of what is called “seasonal affective disorder,” or SAD. No wonder they go south for winter vacation to Spain and Italy. A lot of them come here, some on a permanent basis. You can hear various languages as you stroll about town. I know why people come. We are a warm and welcoming island in the middle of nowhere with breathtaking white beaches and the most amazing turquoise seas. It is truly the good life. I know.

A big reason for choosing Anguilla is the scenery such as the famous view from Long Bay and its location in the Caribbean. I also like the British flavor of the towns. (It is a British overseas territory.) Did you know that there is a main island and a few smaller ones? It gives you numerous areas to visit while boating, hiking, or snorkeling. There are so many colorful places to explore. I always suggest to tourists that they take a tour to see it all. You can also go on your own by ferry. Don’t limit yourself to one resort. By the way July through August is pretty hot and I would recommend coming in December to February. It is the lowest key in the fall. We do get hurricanes and tropical storms so bring a rain coat so you won’t be confined to your room. You do have to be a bit daring to go out.

I am always on the boat and often forget to take a close look around to see what needs some immediate attention. This summer I am slowly updating some of the features on my boat and have decided to install some marine speakers so I can listen to music on his way back and forth to St. Martin when I goes shopping. I don’t consider it self-indulgent at all. Aren’t we supposed to live our lives to background songs? So you have a signature tune that defines your personality? These speakers don’t cost an ocean of money, but they do boost your sound quite well according to this web site. I am ready to rock when out on the water or just relaxing with a cool one on deck. They are well-made, waterproof, inconspicuous, and can withstand the salty marine environment. Why did I wait so long? The time has come.

I am going for a complete audio system for my boat so I have the best of the best. I spend enough time on the water craft. Basically, here is the rundown. I am getting three-way speakers with a dome and piezo tweeter. Only insiders know what this means. It has a poly-coated surround and a corrosion-resistant basket. The salesmen told me everything, stating that there are five things to ask when buying them. I have enumerated them for you. It has speaker grilles and stainless steel mounting hardware as well. It has good power range and frequency response. There is also something called “sensitivity” and “impedance.” But of course! I also checked on the Rock the Boat Audio site for testimonials and reviews. How apt.

Next year I will refinish the wood in the interior and maybe put in another cushioned seat and some portable Wi-Fi. I like to have guests who enjoy boating as much as I do, and provide them with all of the comforts of being on dry land, including being able to instantly share things to Facebook. On the island, it is a must or you might as well relocate to the mainland. I might need a larger refrigerator so I can stock it with beer and wine. I use a cooler now for the extras and the day’s snacks. Everything looks good and the motor still works to the optimum level. The paint hasn’t faded or shown signs of wear. I took care of that years ago. Each season demands some renovation or protection. I have to restain the deck form time to time.

My boat is my chief method of transportation. All the locals know me well. I can while away a lot of time chatting. Living on the water gives you an instant social life. You make the best of friends and take turns enjoying each other’s boat. This is why I have to keep mine in tip top shape. It can get a little competitive. I don’t have the largest vessel in the marina, but it is a beauty nonetheless. I have bragging rights. All of us boat owners think alike.

Fishing stories are the kinds of things that get better every time you tell them. They take on a life of their own, Dad used to say. And by that, he meant that they start out small and grow up quite big. They often go out on their own and meet other people. My dad actually had somebody recount one of my dad’s own fishing stories at him one time, acting as if it were his own. And while I’d like to believe that this guy just had a similar experience, I’d be hard pressed to believe that he broke down on the way home just like my dad and paid the tow truck driver in fish. Or that the tow truck driver’s rig was nicknamed, “The One Who Got Away,” just like his prize fish did when he had to hand it over in order to pay for a new alternator. I have no problem believing in coincidences, but that one is a little too word-for-word, even for me.

There is one ‘local’ neighbor that I sit around and tell stories with nearly every day. If I ever catch a few ladyfish, I hand them over to him. He makes some great fishcakes, and we’ll sit outside and eat them and talk a bunch of nonsense. Personally, I can’t be bothered with ladyfish—so many bones. I tend to use them as bait instead. But if he’s going to go through all that trouble and I get to eat some good fishcakes, that’s fine by me. I always figure I get the better end of the deal anyway.

The best fishing stories start out fairly close to being true. This gives you a base to build your credibility on. For example, I’m going to tell you a story about how I caught a decent-sized wahoo. Now, I did do that, so I’ve got the great beginning to a story. There are some memorable details. Like the fact that I saw it jump halfway out of the water to attack my lure and it yanked my arm something good. That’s OK, but that’s not a great story. So now I layer in some better details that are very possibly true as well: instead of it being a decent sized wahoo, it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen. How are you going to argue with that? Do you know what the biggest wahoo I’ve ever seen looks like? Of course not. Now that the fish is bigger, it couldn’t believably just yanked my arm. So now I have to recalibrate the story. So now maybe it doesn’t yank my arm, maybe it nearly knocks me overboard—again, since I didn’t actually go overboard, who’s going to argue with me? And now, of course, because it’s a huge wahoo, it probably didn’t jump halfway out of the water—it was too heavy to do that. So now maybe when it tried to jump only a third of it was able to break the surface. Then you add in some other fun details, like maybe it started to rain, or a storm was coming, or he nearly got away a few times. Something to make it memorable.

And that’s how a fishing story is born!

Fishing is great fun. I don’t even have to catch anything. Ideally, I would catch a fish every day but I don’t expect to. I try not to get too down about it on the days when I really have no luck. I just go out there the next day and try again. You never know what you’re going to end up with at the other end of your line. There are fish that are great for eating and other fish that are perfect for stuffing and mounting on a wall somewhere. Even though I am the only one living here, I don’t have a lot of fish on my walls like an enthusiastic hunter might have trophy deer heads. There’s a marlin on the wall over the couch, and a wahoo mounted on a plaque in my bedroom. That’s it. Not a lot when you consider I am out on the water most days.

Are you wondering what happens to my catch much of the time? Well, it turns out that I’ve eaten much more of my lifetime haul of fish than I have taxidermized.

For me, there is a really simple pleasure to being out on the water with a rod in my hand. Everything seems easier, more peaceful, and better out there. That’s why I do not typically mind if I come home empty handed every once in a while. I wish I could say the same for a bad weather day.Those just put me in a cranky mood. But we don’t get as much rain in Anguilla as you would think a Caribbean island would, and it does not get all that hot. In other words, the weather can be near-perfect most of the time, perfect for being outdoors. There are other places I could have moved that had better beachfront access for ‘non-belongers’ or a lower cost on real estate, but I did a little island-hopping when I was looking for a place and Anguilla hit every item on my checklist. Not that it was a long checklist, but it still fit the bill handsomely.

And now, every morning, I get to fish. The water is quiet and clear. It’s just me and I don’t see how life could get much better than that. I’ve got some of my old lures that I used back home but there aren’t too many available for sale around here. The locals tend to use live bait or the heads of other fish. It depends a little on what you want to catch, I guess. I know I can order all kinds of rods, reels, and tackle online and have it shipped to me. I like to think that sometimes I catch fish simply because even if they’ve been around awhile, they don’t know what lures are and therefore don’t even think to avoid them. Ha haha. That’s a good joke, right? Although it does sound at least a little bit believable, doesn’t it?

People always seem surprised when they find out that I’ve retired down here. I mean, why wouldn’t you retire to a nice tropical island if you could? Maybe other people have grandkids or something keeping them in one place, but I don’t have that. Thought I met the right girl once, but it turned out that she didn’t like fishing, which meant she didn’t really like me. I don’t know. My younger brother used to make fun of me and tell me that I was too cheap to ever get a wife, and he may have been right. Then again, he’s been divorced a few times and he don’t have any kids to show for it, either. He lives in a run-down apartment not too far from where we grew up. I think he still might be paying alimony. I sent him pictures of my condo. Although I was tempted to write “Look what being cheap got me!” I thought better of it and wrote “Hope you can visit someday.” Though I’m certainly not paying for his plane ticket. I’ve got that cheap reputation to maintain and all.

I had a real nice day yesterday. Woke up, headed down to the water and dropped in my line a few times. Caught a decent sized ladyfish and then I caught a snook. The locals here don’t usually do much withsnook, but that’s because a lot of them don’t know how to cook them properly. You have to take that skin off, or you find out why they’re nicknamed soapfish. And yes, I know this from experience. Thanks to the internet and some good recipes I found, it’s not longer a trial-and-error effort to make them into something edible. Once it started to get warm, the fish got lazy and so did I, so I went back home again.

I dropped off the ladyfish with my neighbor, who loves them. Then I cleaned the snoot and prepped it for a nice dinner later on. Next it was time for some lunch. Then I took a nap, since I’m retired now and there’s nobody to stop me. And of course, because you must get up early to fish, the days are pretty long.I woke up later in the afternoon, took a nice walk down to the water and sat on the beach for a bit. It sure is nice here. Went back and made myself that snook. It really isn’t too bad! It’s a hard fish to get back home—in some places, it is illegal to buy or sell them so it’s nearly impossible to even try unless you catch one yourself. It might just be my imagination, but I’m pretty sure that adds a layer of delicious to it every time I catch and cook one.

By the time I got everything cleared up from my meal, it was about time to call it a night. As I said earlier, the fish are up early—that means I am, too.

There were so many days over the years that I wanted to call in sick to work even though I wasn’t ill, or I considered taking an extended vacation, or just generally did not feellike going in to work. But I did. Because I knew, even as an 18 year old starting my first real job, that getting what I wanted was going to require lots of hard work and plenty of sacrifices.I kept my eye on the prize and just kept going, though bad bosses, economic downturns, and lousy days.

At first, my savings went into a jarthat I kept in my bedroom. It was pretty satisfying to watch it fill up. That really kept me motivated to keep going when things were hard—because it is no fun starting at the bottom of the ladder, and that’s certainly where I was. As I moved up that ladder rung by rung, I made a little more money each time. And as I got older, I got smarter.The money went into a bank account and started earning me interest.That motivated me even more—my money was making money! From there, I went to a financial advisor, who recommended a retirement account and some investments. There were some bumps along the way, but I prevailed in the long run. Working so hard back then enabled me to retire comfortably.It really paid off.

When I was deciding on a place to live, one thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t want to go anywhere that was going to get cold. Snow is nice to look at but I’m too old now to be wasting my time shoveling or paying some teenager who lives down the road to do it for me. That ruled out a whole bunch of places. I also didn’t want to go somewhere that got too hot. Of course, it had to have some good fishing, too. That pretty much narrowed my choices down to the Caribbean. There are so many great places to live down here that it was hard to choose. So many great beaches, so much fishing. I ended up picking Anguilla because it isn’t too crowded. I find it to be mostly populated with temporary residents like vacationers, which means there are great restaurants and nightlife. It also means that the rest of us Islanders tend to be a tight little community. I’ve got a nice condo here and I don’t need much more than that, my boat, and my rod and reel. The cost of living here is on the high side, as it is on just about any island but as long as I’m smart with my money, I’m fine.

My days consist mostly of relaxing, fishing, and the occasional trip to St. Martin to get whatever supplies I might need that I can’t get here on the island. It’s a pretty great life, I must say.

You ever have something that you just know is lucky? A lucky hat, maybe, or a lucky coin you always keep in your pocket? If so, you’re in good company. Well, I can’t speak for many other people, but at least you have me. I’ve got a lucky rod and reel.

I’ve had this particular rod and reel for a little bit, and it’s never failed me. And by failed, I don’t actually mean that I’ve caught a fish every time I’ve used them. If they were THAT good, I’d call it my miracle gear. I mean that ifI do hook something—more times than not, I’m able to bring whatever’s on the end of the line—the line doesn’t break, the fish doesn’t escape, etc. But that’s only part of what makes it so lucky. I mean, I could say that I’ve had some good lures, or some lucky fishing holes, or maybe even just some really good line. It could all just be a coincidence. But you haven’t heard the whole story on why they’re lucky just yet!

I like to get back to my homeland once a year to visit with friends. On one of these visits, a dear friend of mine and I had planned on taking a fishing trip. I ordered some new gear (the lucky rod and reel) and had it shipped to a store near where we’d be going. It was set to arrive two days before. Only it didn’t arrive. The guy at the store thought that perhaps my order went to a different store, but he didn’t know which one. I thought about buying something they had in-store, but I figured I would wait one more day. The next day, of course, I headed to the store first thing and talk to the same guy. He said that the situation was totally the same. I asked him to check in the back anyway. He went back there and sure enough, my stuff was there. Nobody had scanned it in as received or something. The salesguy said he thought maybe one of the receiving guys saw it and thought it was nice, then put it aside so that he could take it home one day when the night manager wasn’t on duty. That was a little disturbing, and I made a mental note not to have anything shipped to that store anymore, but I was happy to have my stuff.

Next day was the big fishing trip, and I caught the biggest trout I’ve ever hooked. If you don’t count Caribbean fishing, because the species there tend to be larger in general, it is the biggest fish I’d ever caught. But that’s not where the luck comes from, either. Of course I wanted to bring the gear back home with me to Anguilla, and I worked with the airline on how best to transport and pack it. Of course I did exactly as they told me, and of course they lost the bag. Once again, though, it took less than a day for it to return to me. So twice somebody tried to lose this thing on me and twice it came back! I call that rather lucky, wouldn’t you?