Dad loved his Dad jokes.
‘Why did the Mexican throw his wife off a bridge? Tequila’
He had a million of them and the rest of the family suffered for two decades and beyond.
But he was a dab hand at fishing off a jetty or a marina. Once, we were holidaying down at Second Valley in a house made of wood and windows when he suddenly bounced out of a lounge chair and announced that we kids—or ‘billy lids’ as he called us—were going fishing with him and we were going to be taught the proper way to fish from a marina. We piled into the ancient family Tarago—all dents and rust—and Dad drove like a man possessed to the Wirrina Cove marina.
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‘Why did the Mexican throw his wife off the bridge? Tequila.’
I love that joke and it had the desired effect—everyone within earshot groaned. Score one for me. I notice my two kids, Jackie aged 8 and Thomas aged 6, squabbling so I figure it time I give my wife Rachel a break from them, and take them out of the house and away to do something constructive. And what better than a good fishing expedition!
‘Come on, my billy lids, we’re going fishing!’ I say as I bounce out of my chair.
‘Oh, Dad! Do we have to?’
‘Yep. Come on, get your thongs on and let’s pile into the Tarago.’
It takes a few minutes of hurrying them up, but eventually I manoevere them into the Tarago and I slam the column shift stick into Drive and we shoot off like a rabbit in the headlights to Wirrina Cove marina.
‘Well, this looks boring,’ Jackie exclaims.
‘Ahh, you just wait and see!’ I reply, and pull the fishing rods and bait out of the rear of the van. I make my way over to the rocks on the western side, doing my best to encourage my lids to follow me. They drag their feet but eventually sit down next to me. Let the learning begin.