As life becomes busier, the importance of protecting our peace becomes even more vital. That truth found me not in a quiet moment of meditation, but in the splash of saltwater and the startled laughter that followed.
We had just bought a 21-foot Hewes Light Tackle flats boat—a shift from our previous vessels, a 23-foot Pro-Line and a vintage 1955 Chris Craft. The change felt symbolic: a new chapter, a lighter footprint, a different rhythm. But transitions, even joyful ones, take adjustment.
Not long after, we took my daughter and her towering 6’4″ husband out fishing. I’ve always been the kind of woman who celebrates every catch, no matter the size. So, when I reeled in a two-foot Black Tip shark, my heart raced with childlike wonder. My son-in-law offered to release it, and I gratefully handed off the task.
As I swung the shark toward the bow, he stepped forward. I stepped back—instinctively, casually—and walked straight off the stern. Into the ocean. Into the very water that had just hosted my shark.
In the chaos of laughter, sputtering, and adrenaline, I managed to shout two things at once: “Don’t release the shark!” and “I need the ladder!” I scrambled up that Gilligan’s Island rope ladder like my life depended on it—clutching my rod, my soul, and yes, my pearls.
That moment, ridiculous and raw, reminded me of something profound: balance isn’t just a metaphor. It’s a muscle. It’s the grace to laugh when you fall, the instinct to reach for what steadies you, and the courage to keep fishing even when the water gets wild.
I learned two things that day: I can move like lightning when I need to—and life, in all its unpredictability, is best lived with joy, humility, and a good ladder nearby.
— Peggy Choquette – Fish Candy Bait and Tackle
