She connected the loose pieces of the shaft then attached a red and white striped metal lure to the end of the fishing line. Then she stepped about ten feet back from our group and looked out over the shore.
"Okay," she said. "The most important thing is that you don't snare yourself or anyone else as you're casting your line into the water. Which is why you'll need to separate yourself from your next nearest fisherwoman by at least ten to fifteen feet."
"Fisherwoman?" I teased. "Is that what your grandpappy used to call you?"
"Not exactly. But hey, there's no guys out here, so I'm improvising. Fisherperson, fisherman, angler, whatever. Now listen up. After I get your rods and lures assembled, you hold the rod like this."
Lilly held the rod out firmly in front of her, gripping the cork handle.
"Like you're giving it a firm handshake, with your middle and forefingers threaded under the handle of the reel."
"Or like you’re giving it a firm hand job," Hannah snickered.
"Now…" Lilly continued, rolling her eyes. "Hold the rod out beside you and make sure you've got about two feet of line hanging down from the tip of the rod, like this."
"Like a horny cock dripper..." Hannah said, continuing the metaphor.
"Behave, Hannah," Lilly admonished her friend, "or I'm gonna slap your ass. Now, press and hold this little release button on your reel, then turn your body sideways, holding the rod out in front of you. Then swing your arm quickly out in the direction you want your lure to land and release the button just before you get to the end, like this."
Lilly deftly swung the rod with her wrist and we watched her lure sail about forty feet over the water and plop just short of a bunch of water lilies.
"I'm attaching bobbers to the ends of your lines so you shouldn't have to worry about your line getting caught on rocks underwater."
"Bobbers? Rods? Swinging?" Hannah joked. "You gotta admit it sounds a bit like—"
"Put your dick in your pants, Hannah," Lilly said. "Try to concentrate, will you, so we all don't starve out here?
"When you cast your lure," she continued, "try not to get too close to the flowers or your line will get caught up there too. You may need to practice a few times to get the hang of it, but after a few swings, you should be casting like a champ. After your lure lands in the water, start turning the crank on the reel counterclockwise slowly so your lure will swim through the water looking like a real fish."
"What if we catch something?" Bonnie asked.
"You'll feel a tug on your line and some sudden tension in your reel. Just steady your rod and crank the fish in slowly toward shore. Give me a shout if you need any help. Once your fish gets close to shore, I'll use my net to land him. Then I'll tie him up to this little stringer to keep him fresh underwater until w
e eat."
"Until you chop off his head and gut and cook him, you mean," Hannah joked.
Emma hunched her shoulders and winced.
"Poor little fishes," she said. "They'll just be going about minding their own business when suddenly a hook tears into their flesh. Then we'll yank them by their mouth out of their element and tie them up while they wait to be guillotined. How barbaric!"
"Hey, it's a fish-eat-fish world out there, Emms," Lilly chuckled. "We just happen to be the biggest fish at the top of the food chain. If I remember correctly, we don't have any vegetarians among us, do we?"
Lilly paused for a moment to make sure everybody was on board.
"Right, let's get started then. If anybody wants to sit this one out and just watch the rest of us, that's cool. If we're feeling generous, we might share some of our catch with you later."
Lilly proceeded to assemble each of our rods, then we separated along the bank and awkwardly practiced casting into the bay. It didn't take me too long to get the hang of it, and after five or six casts I was able to fling my lure almost as far as Lilly with similar accuracy. I glanced over at Emma standing fifteen feet to my right and noticed her huffing and cursing as her lure jerked and plopped into the water only a few feet in front of her.
I stepped behind her and reached around, grasping her rod with my two hands.
"Hey, Emma," I said. "Let me see if I can help you. The key is in timing the button release at the right moment."
I positioned Emma's thumb over the button on the reel, then placed my thumb over hers. Then I pulled the rod gently behind us a few feet and swung her arms forward in a sudden jerk.
"Release!" I yelled as we watched her lure go sailing twenty feet into the bay.
"Yayyyy!" Emma squealed with delight.