Proof, it never get’s old.
I have it. It happens when you have a monumental fishing trip and try to come back from the way out. But along the way you agree with the Capt. that every floating log, boil, tuna chic, oily smell should be grounds to stop and inspect. Even when the roll out time is about 3-3:30 am …. you just can’t stop.
We headed out into the pitch black dark, darker than I ever remember night. The boat is a 23′ Regulator w/twins. It was a 70 mile journey out to the Wilmington Canyon. It’s a place where dreams are made just as quickly as hearts get crushed. It was a perfect ride out. Capt. prepared most of the bally hoo only hours before. As soon as we hit troll he was deploying with the precision of strategic planner. As I took the wheel: spreader bars, and islanders went over the…
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