DADVENTURE: Birthday Presents Unboxed

My oldest child, Wilson, sits in one of the two fighting chairs in the wide open stern of the Banshee with his fishing rod bent over, hauling up and reeling down, celebrating his ninth birthday.  When the day's charter is over, all he will have to show for his big day will be filets of striped sea bass.  And even those won't last the night.  There is to be a birthday dinner, after all, and grilled "stripers" are on the menu.

It is the third summer that we have celebrated his birthday on the shoals and tidal rips off of Cape Cod, but the first time that the kid fishes unassisted.  When he hooks up, no one aboard -- not Captain Ron McVicar, not his first mate Dave, not Wilson's grandfather, not me – will help until he brings the fish in.  When he has finally fought the fish up to the boat, Dave leans over the stern until only his rubber boots and yellow slickers are visible, grabs the leader, and gently hauls a 32-inch bass aboard -- silver with green iridescent stripes, a fat belly and a mouth big enough for me to get my fist into -- a keeper.  Wilson beams gloriously, and I snap a picture knowing that I could never fully capture his pure bliss.

The trip is a ludicrously exorbitant gift for a family with limited means like ours (underwritten by one teacher and one writer) not to mention that it leaves the birthday boy empty handed at the end of the day. A new Wii would be cheaper.  Two New Wiis would be cheaper.  But my wife and I don't think twice about shelling out to Captain McVicar.  That may be due at least in part to the unlikely affinity that has sprung up between the old salt and my son.

Ron McVicar has fished the waters between the Monomoy National Seashore and Sankaty Light for forty years.  He knows every ripple, hole and fishy spot in Nantucket Sound, and he fishes with caution and expertise and reverence, but when Wilson lands his keeper he whoops like a hooligan and gives the boy a high five.  Watching the affinity the man has for the place, the creatures, and his work is good for my son.

There are other benefits to this unboxed present.  There’s the whole food chain, environmental impact, omnivore’s dilemma aspect to the trip.  I also hope that he'll consider the things he's done to be at least as important as the things he has when it comes to defining himself.  So experiential presents are one way to encourage this.

Birthdays are about time, after all.  So it stands to reason that they should be celebrated with time, in this case, eight precious hours with my son and his grandfather, out on the ocean.  My sense is that if I asked the boy what he would prefer, the trip or a gift of equal cash value, he would pick the trip.  But I'm exercising my parental prerogative by not giving him the choice.  I get to go, too, after all.

It's a long haul in from the fishing grounds, and I'm glad for it.  The air is still cool, so Wilson pulls in close to me in the open cabin.  I wonder how many more of these trips will conclude with him curled next to me.  But that's not for now.  We sit close, listen to the thrum of the diesel engine and watch the wake vee out behind the boat, like time.

Have you ever considered an "unboxed" present for your child?

Clay Nichols, Family Correspondent:
Clay’s column, Dadventure, published twice monthly to Gather Essentials: Family, is a sure-fire guide to raising flawless, perfectly behaved, and always obedient children.  Yeah, right.
 
Clay is the co-author of Filmmaking for Teens: Pulling Off Your Shorts, an award-winning playwright, and the Chief Creative Officer at DadLabs.com, an web tv parenting network.

You can find all of Clay’s Dadventure articles at http://gather.com/dadventure