WHAT WOULD JESUS HAVE DONE?

Dad, in his many roles

The 'actual' fisherman

The 'actual' 1st Duke of the Sea

Dad was a softy, he never liked to see people unhappy or struggle. When it came to his own family, he was particularly diligent and aware of everyone's aches and pains or needs. In the early 1950s, Dad decided to book a little fishing trip, with Grandpa and me. Dad rented a rowboat and assign his crew to man the operation as he stood over us as Paolo Camillo Thaon, Marquess of Revel (10 June 1859 – 24 March 1948), latterly titled by Benito Mussolini with the honorary title of 1st Duke of the Sea, who was an Italian admiral of the Royal Italian Navy (Regia Marina) during World War I and later a politician, would.
Getting Grandpa out of the house on Fulton Street in Brooklyn was a major effort, Grandpa didn't like to go anywhere that required his traveling for more than 15 minutes that was away from his pinochle club and the fifteen minutes had to be round trip.

Being how we were living on Long Island, Dad decided one summer to get Grandpa out of the house in Brooklyn and take him fishing; "We have to get Grandpa out of the house and take him fishing!" We went to Mastic Beach on a Saturday and rented a rowboat, got a few rods and reels and bait and set out to fish. Oh, Captain, my Captain!

My thinking was that that was all the equipment we would need since we were fishing we would eat what we caught. Build a fire on the beach and cook our catch. Dad and Grandpa both seemed perplexed by my plan, and since I was only 11-years old, what the Hell did I know. 

The problem with the plan was there was a huge package coming on board the ride to the beach, it consisted of three Italian heroes, packed with peppers and eggs, and a chunk of provolone cheese and a Genoa salami, along with a gallon of Grandpa's homemade wine, courtesy of grandfather's bride, Grandma Francesca, "La Regina di Pasta".

Being the ‘city type', both the 1st Duke of the Sea and Grandpa dressed for the occasion. Dad wore his shorts, sandals and black dress socks, while Grandpa never changed. Grandpa wore his work pants, brown unpolished shoes, and white shirt, along with his fedora, which he sat under come rain or shine, baptism or wake.

1st Duke of the Sea became the grand admiral, directing me, the only crewmember that showed up that day to man the oar, bait the hooks and full steam ahead. 

As we set ‘sail', we each had our position on the boat, Dad sat up front with his rod, tossing it in into the drink (literally), and I try to get the hook that caught me in the neck was sitting mid-ship so to speak, while Grandpa sat in the back, legs crossed serenely holding his rod, eyes closed, dreaming of home.

Suddenly Grandpa caught a fish, then another, then still another! Dad was feeling inept but still fishing with his rod, and I was almost done getting the hook out of my neck and ready to fish, while showing the ineptitude reached over generations.

After a while, with Grandpa's success, I asked him how he was able to catch so many fish.

Grandpa looks at me, squinting in the sun and says: "SSSHHH".

I looked at him and he says, "SSSHHH, that’sa how a you catcher da fish!!"

As we floated along the Great South Bay, Dad and Grandpa had their wine, and it seemed fine until we reached the shore to unload the boat. When Dad stepped off the boat, he suddenly looked like he saw a ghost, stopping in mid-tracks to catch himself. Sitting at the edge of the dock with his head in his hands, Dad had too much wine! Grandpa, however, stepped from the boat onto the dock and fish in hand looked at Dad and said: "Tony, prendi il tuo tempo." (Tony, take your time.) I wondered at that point: what would Jesus have done? He would have got out of the boat and just casually strolled back to land without even getting his ankles wet.

Apparently drinking on the water didn’t make you drunk because of the movement of the rowboat, but step on land and say “Ciao” or “Goodbye.”