Fish Story

I have received a fish story from Sweet. I always find this type of story amusing. Fishing on my boat is usually reserved for marinas where the bait is a five dollar bill and the catch is a large fish sandwich.
Of course my boat sits nine feet above the water. Tough to fish from that platform.

Here is Sweet with her story.


As promised, here is my fish story. However, the cast of characters insists I use an alias for them. Captain Fish-guts is really my hubby. Ginger is my daughter. Striper is the unlucky fish.

3:00 am The alarm sounds and Sweet’s feet hit the floor for a day on the Sacramento River. I stumble to the kitchen for a Cup of Joe and to pop a Dramamine. There is my hubby Captain Fish-guts having the breakfast of Captains, “Captain Crunch.” We both laugh as the Captain tells me to get a move on mate, we will soon be burning daylight (burning daylight is his favorite thing to tell me). I awaken Ginger, who stayed overnight so she would not have to get up at 2:00 am to be ready. I tell her to hurry, the fish will be biting at daybreak. Now Ginger is a “girly girl” and always has to be stylishly dressed for any occasion (whatever happened to good old blue jeans).

4:20 am The “Illegal Smile” and her capable crew are on the road.

5:00 am Captain Fish-guts successfully launches the “Illegal Smile”, however Sweet drops the docking line into the river forcing Ginger to sprint in her pearl gray dress to grab the port side of the “Illegal Smile” (I told you she always dresses for a night on the town, hmmm daughter like mother?). With the crew assembled and final check complete the “Illegal Smile” is ready to depart. Suddenly out of nowhere, a waiter appears bearing champagne. He hands each one of us a goblet of sparking refreshment as we pushed away from shore.

5:20 am “Illegal Smile” is anchored along shore with all the other hard core, wake up at the butt crack of dawn anglers. Number one standing rule aboard the “Illegal Smile”, Captain’s line goes in first. Captain then helps Ginger. Touching a “pile worm” makes her cringe (see attached picture). I call them devil worms. A potty break is what I wanted and this seemed to be the perfect time to hit the head (for those you don’t know that’s the portable potty that my wonderful hubby put in the cabin for me). Just as I take a seat on the head I hear Fish-guts yelling get the net! Ginger grabs the net and Fish-guts continued to yell “I need an experienced netter! ! !. Sweet where are you!” I jump up and grab the net just in time to hoist in a 6 lb striper. It is at this point, I hear whistles, cheers and “it’s party time we accept no tan lines” as Ginger and Fish-guts start rolling with laughter. I realize that my lucky fishing pants are around my knees and every angler anchored nearby has a fabulous view of my “blinding white butt”, all of whom politely waved, smiled, and applauded. The day was a remarkable blend fun and adventure for all aboard the “Illegal Smile.”






My friend, Ed, is a fanatical fisherman. I tell friends that he knows all there is to know about bass fishing. He is a veritible well of information about bass. Does that make him a basshole? He always insists that fishing is the only reason to be on a boat. I tell him that when he can catch a fish already battered, deep fried and on a bun with tartar sauce, we'll do it his way. Meanwhile, I'll keep fishing the marinas where the fish come with a beer.