The Rack by Tom Diola Chapter One He'd place his hand on your shoulder one time and during that brief moment in time you were supposed to acknowledge with a 'OK Dad'. It was 4:30 A.M. and we were going fishing today. Not the kind of fishing for fun, not the kind of fishing you're thinking about. This was near the Golden Gate hard fishing. After I dragged myself out of the bed I went over and shook my younger Brother John and together we got our clothes on and raced down from upstairs. We could see Mom in the kitchen brewing some coffee and making some hot cocoa for us. The toaster was roasting away on a couple slices of bread, which John had his eye on intently. I saw Dad sitting at the table sharpening hooks and fiddling with the tackle box. That Green Tackle box that was stuffed to the max with fishing gear - there was: leader material, all sorts of hooks, lures, swivels and the key to the boat. The key to the boat had the familiar floating gizmo on it (not that if you dropped it in the water you could ever find it). We always took a moment in the morning to talk to Mom because we knew we'd be out on the San Francisco Bay all morning. Mom had knitted us warm sweaters and knitted caps to keep the chill off from the Bay. After we had had our cocoa and toast John and I had a job to do. Our job at our age was to load the two heavy red tanks of gas into the boat. Quite a feat for a 12 year old and his 9 year old Brother. But we worked as a well oiled machine each knowing each other strengths and weaknesses. Both John and I had few weaknesses. We would drag the two red tanks to the edge of the boat and then we'd both lift it to the edge of the boat and then I'd jump on the wheel and fly into the boat and hold the tank while John jumped into the boat from the other side. Once we were both in the boat we grabbed the red tank and hauled it into place. We repeated the process with the other tank. Methodically we went through the process of going into the house and carefully grabbing all the fishing equipment: Fishing Poles and tackle box. Today was special though. John and I had been shopping and we had ourselves a hand warmer. We didn't exactly know how it would work but we were excited at the prospect. We went into the basement and retrieved some more fishing gear and together as a team we'd haul it into the boat. The boat was one of the first Mary Janes - this was the wooden version, newly repaired by Mr. Bowen - the handy man that lived behind us. Mr. Bowen had a dog (beagle I think) Betina? Mr. Bowen had just replaced the Oak main beams in the boat. Our boat was a fresh water boat that we used in the Salt Water. The boat was stripped down and used for fishing. There was nothing extra in the boat that we didn't truly need for fishing. Today we would launch from Richmond. Which meant that we'd have to ride on the freeway from Alameda to Richmond (maybe a 45 minute ride this early in the morning). Next was to put the straps/springs on the boat so that the boat would stay on the trailer when we were on the freeway. Almost forgot John and I would have to lift up the motor into the freeway position. Once again working as a team we'd lift together the motor and push the mechanism into place that keeps the motor up while on the freeway. Next was the lights, we put the lights that were homemade on a 2x4 on the top of the boat and then connected the wires up to the back of the station wagon. The car was a 1962 Chevy Station Wagon that held 9 people. I was dreaming of driving it since the day we got it in 1962. It was blue and had a V8 so we could haul the boat. Dad was backing the boat into the driveway right now and our older Brother Dave was directing him. Check the signals on the boat - left then right and now the brakes. It's all working just right Dad. Dad had on his blue vest sweater and we had to run up the stairs because Dad had always forgotten to bring is big leather jacket - Mom would always call us to fetch it from her. We hugged Mom said goodbye and she handed us the paper bag that contained our lunch.