Fishing in Datca

Tuesday morning was spent replanting papaya trees, and planting avocado seeds. As the MEN, with their big muscles and fully formed relationship with the spade, dug holes for the papaya, I had the arduous task of watering them and pointing out worms for the afternoon fishing trip. The weather all week is predicted at 22 degrees everyday, and thus far has lived up to its predictions with a tan finding it’s way onto both Dan and I. In the most flattering of ways, such as between the shorts and socks! But either way, after the ever lasting winter we’ve had I’m happy to be getting some vitamin E.
After a filling lunch of Turkish rice, and pan fried mince, eggplant and tomato, with chai tea, we head out with the whole family to meet Oscars friend before our fishing trip. Oscars friend lives in the old Datca town, the streets narrow, cobble stoned, reminding me of Rhodes old town.
His friend, Servet, and his family join us on our fishing expedition.

The location for the fishing trip is Oscar and Servets ‘secret’ fishing spot they frequent most days in summer.
When we pull up to the beach Dan and I are most confused.
With our hand lines we wonder how an earth this will work. We follow the men out from the beach on a narrow rocky island, only about 100 metres from the shore and begin to ‘bait up’… Fishing lingo…
I’ve been under the illusion since the age of 10 when my Grandfather, Peter-Opa took me fishing on his boat, that I was a skilled fisher. As I’d caught the most fish, I believed this must be true.
I’d been hyping up my skills to Dan… “Just you wait, we’ll have so much fish we won’t know what to do with the all!”
On my first cast the hook got caught on my jacket…. On my second the line got stuck on a rock, on my third I got the entire line wrapped round my neck!
I came to the conclusion that my fishing skill must’ve been down to the boat, or the line… Or luck. This was depressing.
It took me about an hour to get the hang of casting out without wrapping the line round myself or throwing the hook at someone standing close by. Once I got it, I had about 5 more casts out, with no luck, before the hook got stuck and I lost the hook, sinker and float. My fishing was done.
Servets luck was better, he caught a rather large fish using a line wrapped round a beer bottle. To make myself feel better I tell Dan it must’ve been luck. I’m sure he believed me…

The location was stunning, as the sun began setting I sat on the beach with the two little ones and waved at the boys, desperately trying to catch some dinner. No luck for us.

Maybe next time my skills will return, in all their glory, and I’ll be the fishing queen!!

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