All this parenting talk might lead you to believe that I’ve gone soft.

On the contrary friends, on the contrary.

Over the weekend, I wrestled with a tournament winning fish that happened to be on the end of my line. He pulled hard, wound up under the boat around one of the engines, and then back down on the ocean floor. I fought with the beast and freed the line from the engine and tried to get the fish into the boat. After a few minutes of battle there was a mighty tug from the opposing end and then the 50# line broke.. Rats.

Did I mention that I was doing all of that with my bare hands, because the line had been cut somewhere between the fish and the fishing pole? Did I also mention that the boat was pitching wildly in 600-feet of water 20-miles off Islamorada in the post-tropical-storm ocean?

Needless to say, I only landed one other fish, which broke the leader crimp at the boat. It was not a productive day for the Reef Seeker – we only managed to get a single under-sized fish on board. Back into the ocean for that one.

So back on shore at the weigh-in and awards ceremony, we found out that my fish would have easily won the big money prize in comparison to the average-sized winning Mahi. The same can be said of another fish that Roger hooked up with. A huge 180 from last year, now we’re able to find the fish but can’t seem to get them into the boat. This can only spell great things for next year … or maybe we’ll try again next week!

I have certainly not lost my adventurous spirit – in fact, I am excited to bring Rylan along on these adventures, but it’s probably too soon for that still.

Cheers!