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It started back in high school, around 2003. My late father took me fishing in Belawan, North Sumatra. We headed out on a small boat powered by a Dongfeng diesel engine, still close to the harbor, but far enough to feel like the open sea. The smell of diesel was sharp the whole time we were on that boat. I didn't own a rod or reel, just used whatever my father handed me. Back then, I knew absolutely nothing about fishing. No clue about reels, rods, or even knots. I was just a kid keeping his father company, out on the water, doing what he loved.
We used shrimp we picked up at the harbor, dropping lines straight into the open sea. Most of what we pulled up were small Kerapu (grouper), nothing to brag about, but enough to get me hooked (pun intended). We also caught Selar (yellowtail scad) on sabiki rigs — tiny hooks dressed in glowing thread that fool fish into thinking they're food. No skill required. No strategy. Just pure, ridiculous fun.
Fast forward to 2018, a friend dragged me on a fishing trip to Sukabumi. That's when I finally bought my own gear for the first time. We left in the evening, stayed out on the sea through the night until morning. I got seasick. We didn't land anything big because our rigs were way too heavy for what was biting. But somehow, none of that mattered. Something clicked on that trip, and I knew I was all in.
Since then, I've slowly learned to read the water — matching the right hook, the right line, the right bait to whatever's down there. What started as just tagging along with my father turned into a real passion. The anticipation before a bite, the sudden pull, the fight to bring it in — yeah, it never gets old.
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