I got out on Lake Sonoma for the first time this year over the 4th of July weekend and couldn’t believe how full and beautiful it was. It did not disappoint. While the long, wet winter was nothing short of frustrating to me, it was a treat to see all that water had filled the lake to max capacity. I am definitely reaping the benefits now of the rain I bitched about a few short months ago.
I couldn’t wait to jump in and float for the afternoon. I had purchased a new floaty for the occasion and everything. Complete with cup holders for the ultimate floating experience. I couldn’t have been happier with the day in front of me. What could possibly go wrong? At this point in my life I should know better than to ask that question. This particular day turned out to be more eventful than I had anticipated, all because of a pesky little fish that had it out for me.
The day was perfect! Hot outside, no wind, refreshing water that was warm enough to soak in all day without getting cold. I couldn’t have asked for more. Except maybe one thing. One little thing. A damn fish was harassing me. It would not leave me alone. I don’t like things touching me in the water. Ever. Under any circumstances. It has taken me years to warm up to the idea of floating in water where I cannot see what is underneath me. So when I felt that first bite to my back in the water I screamed loud enough for people at the marina to hear me.
“Something got me!”
Of course, my husband is a doubter. He didn’t believe me. Said it was in my head. He was no help at all. Literally or emotionally. Until it bit him, and then he was still no help. He just knew at that point it wasn’t my imagination.
A few years back my sons had complained of a little bluegill swimming up and biting their nipples while they were in the water. I found that hysterical, still do actually, and couldn’t stop laughing. This, not so much.
Now that the tables were turned and I was on the biting end of the joke it didn’t seem as funny. I was being terrorized by a six inch monster. It felt like I had been cast for a part in Jaws, only with smaller teeth.
Some time passed and then it hit again, and again, and again. At this point I was ready to call it a day and toss my new floaty. When I realized that the fish was actually trying to get the string to my bathing suit top. Seemed like a simple fix. So I wrapped the string around itself, left nothing dangling to attract the fish, problem solved.
I happily went back to my floating bliss when it happened again. Not to my bathing suit string this time, that situation had been taken care of. But to a freckle on my back. A back freckle. Honest to god AND what the actual hell?!
I had no idea that fish had that kind of vision or that they would even be attracted to freckles. Seriously?! I’ve had fishing trips with my husband that produced less action. How is that possible?
The next day I found my back freckle red and scabby, which is always a good look. I’m still left feeling dazed and confused about the events of that day and how this little fish tormented me. I can’t wait to go back for more fun in sun. Only this time I will be using another new floaty that came equipped with netting on the back. It’s a battle of wills at this point, and I intend to win.
