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The older you get, the more often you remember pictures from your childhood. I remember the years when our family lived on Sakhalin in a small fishing village on the shore of the Tatar Strait. Here we kids spent our free time on the seashore, on the river, in the forest. In the summer we swam, fished, picked wild berries, learned to row and steer a boat.

In winter we went skiing and skating, mostly homemade. These childhood hobbies in nature developed strength, agility and endurance, which were useful to us in life. I’ll tell you about several events of those years, where a lot was connected with fishing. So my friend and I get into the boat and, having overcome the surf, go out to sea.

After sailing 300 meters, we drop anchor. It’s shallow here. The bottom is sandy and free of algae. We hope there are some big flounder here.

We unwind the fishing rods and bait small pieces of herring on the hooks. We cast our fishing rods and wait for the bite. The sea is surprisingly quiet and calm, and only a light wave splashed onto the side of the boat. Only a few minutes passed when I felt a strong tug.

I quickly pull the line. A large flounder, the size of a medium frying pan, hung on a hook. My friend Pashka pulled out the same one. Having caught two or three fish, we return to the shore.

I bring the catch home and proudly pass it on to my mother. That year I graduated from the 7th grade of the village school. Later we became interested in catching fish, in particular pink salmon, going to spawn in our river, using spears. The fort is something like the trident of Neptune, the god of the seas, of course, in miniature.

We have adapted to do it ourselves. But more on that next time.