You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘seasick’ tag.

56A1F9B7-8AD7-4FB0-A758-5D3D3BEE675E-1 2It is not an incurable disease. Nor is it a terminal illness. It is not even a malady deserving of immediate emergency room attention.

There is a special aisle in the pharmacy to deal with this problem. It is marked “motion sickness” on the aisle signs of your local drug store. Nausea is the technical description.

All of us who have experienced it just simply refer to it as “nasty”. When it hits, you feels most awful and the average person would consider dying. There is no rationale for this conclusion, just a desperate desire to make it end, something needs to end.

The boat is moving, tossing, turning, rocking and shifting up and down, never-ending. Then, there is the addition of diesel exhaust that adds to the stench of what is coming, what is coming up. Past meals erupt and spew over the deck.

It is one of those times that has a collective effect on other boaters, there is a definitive common reaction. People turn away. This is one of life’s experiences when sight, smell, and sound come all at once and turns every smile upside down.

For years I would find a place by the rail just to keep the deck around my feet clear of the slip and slide. Regurgitated eggs are very slippery. Re-scrambled is not a nice option.

Why? What would cause a normal human being to slip into this awful experience, on purpose even? It is for the love of fishing.

My search for a solution after countless times of the nausea blues has given Pharmaceutical companies their Christmas bonuses. But, they have also rewarded me with Scopolamine  patches. Finally, I can fish on the open seas in peace.

For 72 hours I can enjoy the scenery, pull in my catch, marvel at the bountiful and beautiful life in the salt waters, and taste the delicious harvest at home. Memories of turning green are now history. The curled up disgusted faces of fellow fisher people are a fading memory.

On the equally rocky boat ride back to port, my limit of rock fish stare blankly at me from my bucket. I smile with satisfaction while chomping on my PB&J sandwich. It is a good day to be touched by my patch rather than the blues of seasickness, all for the love of fishing.

Advertisements

Categories

Advertisements