Patience and caring

I would love to say that I did nothing but fish over the past couple of weeks, but the truth is I didn’t get to wet a line once. Why? As if you haven’t noticed, it hasn’t just rained every single day, it has dumped crazy amounts of water paired with bone jarring thunder storms. In my book, not the best for fishing. Luckily my son Logan flew in from Los Angeles where he now lives and works for the John Tracy Center, a highly touted non-profit organization for deaf and hearing-impaired children.

So why am I writing about my son when this is supposed to be an outdoor column? I can answer that question by saying that his love for the outdoors had a lot to do with his choice of careers. If you are wondering how this love for the outdoors has anything to do with working within the non-profit sector, then let me explain. In a nutshell, it all has to do with patience and caring, two components that seem to be a constant with nearly every avid outdoorsman that I have ever known.

Since my son was barely old enough to talk, I would take him with me whenever I would go fishing or just messing around in the outdoors. In those early days I can still remember that he seemed more interested with playing with the bait than he was with fishing. At the time I didn’t know what to think of it. I didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t have an interest in but the more I thought about it, I would much rather he be out there with me than sitting in front of the TV or computer, so I let him play with the bait all he wanted. Like so many parents, I wanted him to avoid mistakes I had made in my younger years (which I made many) and the best way to do that was by steering him in directions that hopefully would keep him from away from some of the early pitfalls that had caused me anxiety and stress.

As each year passed, I noticed that he was developing patience. For example, when he was around seven years old, he was able to focus on fishing for about fifteen minutes before he would put down his fishing rod and do something else. By the time he was ten that span had grown to an hour and now that he is in his mid-thirties, he will fish from dawn til dusk or longer providing that I could match his pace. You may think this is the way it goes with all kids but to me it was the outdoors that taught him the wonderful attribute of patience.

We all know that L.A. isn’t known for its fishing, but Logan and his bride Kali did find that it is a great place for hiking. Living on the outskirts of L.A. proper, he and a few friends hike nearly every weekend. They head up to the mountains one week and to the coast around Catalina Island the next and after every trip, I am rewarded with long-winded descriptions of the things they saw and did. This is where the caring part of his personality comes in. It is hard to tell people that have no interest in the outdoors just how “caring” is one of nature’s rewards but I’m going to give it a shot.

I’ve thought about some reasonable answer, and I think it all boils down to seeing things that others never see. For instance, have you ever seen two bald eagles locked up tumbling head over tail and free falling over 1,000 feet before breaking apart? Or experiencing a manta ray, easily 24 feet across, gliding just under the surface of the water an arms length away from the boat? Or maybe while fishing offshore you have the opportunity to witness a 500-pound marlin —brightly lit with pulsating colors—as it zigzags right behind a trolled bait before opening its massive mouth and devouring the bait in the blink of an eye? It’s so humbling that you have no choice but to care that this natural world be protected so that future generations may have the same opportunity to witness the same amazing sights much like we been so fortunate to witness.

Before heading back to L.A., Logan and I talked a lot about his future and where it might take him. He seemed pretty definite that he wanted to stay in the non-profit sector not because he would find wealth in the normal sense of the word but rather wealth in a more spiritual sense. To say I am proud is an understatement and though I would love to take credit for his patience and caring, I know that nature and his love of the outdoors was no doubt his real teacher.

Collins Doughtie is a 60-year resident of the Lowcountry, is a sportsman, graphic artist, and lover of nature. collinsdoughtie@icloud.com