By the time I saw the fish, I had already started fishing with my dad, an amateur fisherman, a former professional, a recreational diver and a lifelong fisherman.
“The tuna are always there,” I said, pointing at the sea.
“They just look like they are.”
It was a typical evening in my hometown of Port Moresby in northern New South Wales, Australia.
We had the fish eye, an old fashioned reel that had been made from old fishing equipment.
I pulled out a reel, pulled the trigger, and it went in the air.
A fisherman pulls a fish out of the water after it has been caught.
The fish had been caught from the bottom of the ocean, and the fishing rod I was holding had been used to fish the other way.
My dad, who was the first in his family to get his fishing license, pulled a fishing line through the line and pulled the tuna out.
I grabbed the reel, hooked the fish in the water, and pulled it up again.
At first I didn’t think much of it, but as the fish began to float, I became more and more convinced that it was a real catch.
After that, it wasn’t until I started fishing in the ocean with my friends and family that I began to see the tuna in action.
I started to get the drift, and I knew I wanted to go back to the beach, fish the fish for myself and catch as many as I could.
After a few years of fishing in Port Morsby, I got my fishing license and began my fishing career.
But for now, I am going back to my hometown and fishing with the friends and families I made.
I have the best time of my life, I have no regrets, and my fishing skills are second to none.