Yesterday, Kevin and I went fishing. Although we’d gone a couple of times before, it wasn’t in earnest because we knew the fish weren’t there yet. Yesterday, we knew the striped bass were in Barnstable Harbor, and we were determined to catch us a couple.
We went out to the head of the channel, about two miles outside the harbor, and jigged up a couple dozen mackerel to use as bait. Then we went back to the harbor and did loops drifting from the mouth out to the bay, livelining the mackerel. When we got to the head of the channel, we’d motor back and do again, floating with the tide as it went out.
At first, there was nothing. And then, there were bass. By the time the day was over, we had each caught one. Both fish were 32 inches. Both fish were 11 pounds. They were virtually identical. We had caught them exactly the same way, on very similar tackle. So why does Kevin look like a manly boat captain, holding the fish that is the due of a skilled fisherman …
… and I just look like a dork?