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Too Old for these Marathons
Wellthe last Deep adventure posted was a wrap up of my last day mako fishing. That night I was supposed to get a nights sleep but that changed a few minutes after posting.
My day run to the Hudson had been pused up to a midnight departure. So I slid to the boat and made my self one with the bunk. I heard the engines start some time later and woke at 4:30 when the sticks were pulled back. We deployed a spread of death that would surely kill anything there was to kill out there. Coffee filled my veins as the sky grew light and our anticopation levels grew.
Up the tip to the west wall. Crossed to the east side. Nothing. Worked to the hundred square still zilch. Out to 500+ fathoms. Nope not there. down to toms. Again with the zilch. finally at the tip of Toms we got a barely legal yellowfin.
Water was uniform blue green with not the slightest hint of temp break. No bait no marks on the machine. A couple whales were all we saw and about 4PM we laid the "W" on the compass and pointed at the beach after a long and disappointing exploration run. My mate was on a 38 Henriques and they had drilled only a trio of chicken dolphin of about 2 pounds each...
So that trip sucked...
In cell phone range I saw I had a message. My wife was not pleased with the driving habits of the friend who had gone north to pick his daughter and Mini deep from camp. She beeged me to come to Santee SC where they were spending the night and pick her and mini up. Juggling fishing career and being a husband daddy can be tough at times and despite being just about dead tired I fired up the rolling tackle box and pointed south.
Leaving jersey was a breeze. Then For some reason it took an hour to clear Delawares 17 miles as traffic to nowhere was backed all the way up. Maryland went by quick but Virginia was again clogged and I lost more precious time to crawling for the first 60 miles of that state. The clog turned into one of those go like hell and slam on the brakes deals. It was hairy and getting hairier by the minute. I hate when packs of traffic do that flying to crawl crap. It felt like a night at Bristol.Somebody grazed my passenger side just leaving a rubber streak. Then a tailgater about got a dose of the Deep when he tapped me from behind. We pulled over. There was no damage but he smudgedd my SFC sticker and now I was pissed...
"This is no game out here you ****. If the paperwork wasn't such a bitch I'd beat you to death just for grins. Next time you want practice the PITT maneuver... Try it on a guy that doesn't kill shit for a living..." I promise my tone was not my usual suggary sweet one.
Some place around Richmond they were back at that flying then brake game. My pads had enough and my rotors were no doubt glowin so I just satyed in a slow lane and tride my best to avoid wrecks. Then wham! I could see the car an inch from me get shorter as he shortened up the car in front of him sending safety galss all over the rolling tackle box.
It was the wee hours when I made Santee actaully getting light... I caught a quick nap andwith Mini and Mrs I took to the road again. South Carolina was problem free, Georgia was crowded but moving. Then in north Florida I saw it happening. The big one... Its been a long time and I had hoped that I wouldn't see one again but there was flying sheet metal and dirt flyin up ahead. I won't detail but lets just say that that poor fellow went from normal day to day stuff to a life altering status in a matter of seconds. Thats if he makes it. I did what I could do until the pros got there then refocused on getting home safe with my loved ones...
They asked but I didn't answer... Instead kept changing the subject. My worst fears come to the surface when I see that stuff...I don't like to feel vulnerable but that makes me ffel like I'm standing naked in a stadium full of lions...Mini worries that one day a shark will eat me or a marlin will prng me. I worry that one day 95 will claim me as hers. Now in the safety of castle deep I can turn my attention to good things like SFC...
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