Fishing for the premiere example in my existence out in Monterey Bay (California) wavered involving stimulating and unbecoming. Still in my teens, I'd been invited by friends in a christian church men's troop to go along on a leased field sport boat. Never having body of water fished, the rods, reels, bait, etc. were improbably foreign and the incidental to brisk, bright Pacific upwind made the education uniquely etched on your mind.
Watching my friends go for the impressive fish - saltwater fish or billfish or some jumped out of the liquid and made their reels chirrup - made me be aware of boring. On the sly, the person in charge had told me that the "best" sportfishing lay moral the bottom, and he helped me set my gear for the depths. No one caught one of the beauties that would sooner or later hang up on the wall of someone's den, but I reeled in aquatic vertebrate after aquatic vertebrate from the foot. By the example I was done, I had a official aquatic vertebrate fry of my own.