The Bank

I ventured out with my friend Brian on his zippin' boat last Saturday. We were heading out for some bluefin. I was tired. I mean really tired and out of it. I met Brian, as planned, at 4:30 down on the dock. We geared up and off we went to catch some live bait, then across Cape Cod Bay to the banks.

But I was out of it.

We did manage to get some menhaden into the livewell with only a couple of jarring moments (one confrontation with a sore fellow fisherman). The bay, however, was calm and balmy. It was going to be a great day, I thought to myself.

We managed to get across to our destination in record time, maybe a half hour. Brian's boat is pretty slick. It moves and it slices and it is truly an amazing boat to fish from. I should get one like his.

On the bank we encountered at least 30 other boats with the same idea that we had. We were both hoping for surface action and had our eyes peeled well. This didn't occur at all, nor did the trolling of live bait do much except for a very nice offshore striper which had to be returned alive (due to federal rules). So no tuna today.

But ah, the whales were just amazing. There were so many humpbacks out there and they were putting on the show. Sand eels were everywhere and the whales were feeding verociously. In between feedings they waved to us and hung out on the surface presumably to socialize with one another. Real cool stuff.

So, when you head out for the footballs and skunk you really don't skunk. This is because almost every trip out to the bank produces a meaningful, fulfilling experience. I was tired and out of it, but inside I was alive and into it.