Who's Your Daddy?

I'm back!!! Had a great time fishing, drinking, watching baseball, and soaking up the rays. I have some great pictures, some interesting pictures, and a picture or two that will never see the light of day.

Saturday, we got up at the ass-crack of dawn to be down at the docks by seven for our boat, the Fanta-Sea. Bob was the captain and James was the mate. Both good guys who work very hard to make sure you get your fish. If you are ever at Clearwater Beach, check 'em out.

This is a two part anecdote and since I don't want to give the punch line away in the first couple of sentences, I'm going to reverse the order in which the events actually happened.

We had been fishing about five or six hours with mixed results. Lots of grouper, but they were all to small to keep. A few snapper, but none bigger than a couple of pounds. Captain Bob caught a couple of grouper that were about this size:

So, five hours in and I had not caught my trophy fish when suddenly my line went taut. I yelled to First Mate James "dude, I've snagged a rock again" and handed him my pole (no gay jokes please, not that there is anything wrong with that) and went to the cooler. As soon as I turn my back he yells "you aren't snagged, fish on man, fish on!" So I yank my pole away from him (shaddup) and begin cranking (get your friggin' minds out of the gutter!). This fish is dishing out more than one drunk Tennessee boy can handle, but I'm determined to fight him into the boat. I think it would have been easier to bring up the rock. So I'm working the rod (*sigh*) and pulling and cranking (really, it's getting old) and finally I get a glimpse of him. This fish is easily two or three times bigger than the one in the above picture. I'm sweating bullets, the Budweiser is climbing back up my throat and I'm exhausted, but I'm yelling for Sugah to "get the fuckin' camera!"

James leans over and grabs my line (for cryin' out loud, who knew that fishing sounded like gay sex?) and when he does he pulls the tip of my pole down (I give up), the fish feels the line go slack and immediately shakes the hook. As I watched him swim away, I almost cried. It would have made a nice picture.

Now for the punch line. As we are getting ready, icing down the beer, setting up our gear, a crusty old dock bum walks by. I think I had my arm around Sugah and wasn't really paying much attention until I heard "It's so nice to see a father take his daughter fishing."

Crap.