My Father-in-Law's Bright Idea

Many people have been alike over the years. My recently departed, father-in-law and I were that type. His first name was Robert, like mine. He was a Leo, like myself. He was crazy about fishing, and so am I. With this type of chemistry, I knew that when we went fishing in was going to be adventure. I just didn't know that the chemistry would bring so much rain. We went fishing approximately seven times together and each time we got wet. This fall we had just planned our eighth fishing trip in my new Mako 19, when he un-expectantly passed from leukemia. We never got to break the curse that surrounded our fishing trips for years. Each time each trip seemed to be worse then the previous. Each trip always started out the same way, calm. Our sixth trip together was no different. About 15 years ago, I brought aluminum Grumman, "V" bottom, bass boat. My brother-in-law, Willie Moore and I installed stick steering in it, placed a Chrysler 25hp on the back with an 18lb thrust trolling motor in the front. We fished most of the ponds and lakes around Dover, DE. Later, I joined a bass fishing club, and still only used the boat to fish in fresh water tournaments, even though I loved saltwater surf fishing too. One day in late fall, my father-in-law, Robert English, came up with an bright idea. "Let take your boat to Deal Island, in Maryland, to catch some real fish." Now, when it comes to fishing, I am usually game for anything. I'll try anything once. I agreed. We headed out early Saturday morning from his house, where I kept my boat, in Kenton, De., and towed the boat to a Deal Island. The day seemed like any other day, and the weather report mentioned a possible shower, but that wasn't supposed to happen until late in the afternoon. We were good to go. As we headed out to the bay area, a feeling of awe crested into my body. The unknown, along with the rumors of saltwater fishing, and its plentiful bounties. Oh, and don't forget about "Jaws." Oh, well. I don't know why but the phrase, "We need a bigger boat" kept haunting me. This was the first time that I had been in saltwater, let alone, in my little bass boat, and the enjoyment was one that will play over and over in your mind for an eternity. As I anchor, my father-in-law baited his hook, and immediately caught several spot. I followed, and did the same. We begin hauling in spot and croaker two at a time. This WAS fishing. We spent the morning filling our two coolers full of medium size fish. Then, in a blink of an eye, my father-in-law hooked something that started taking his thirty to fifty pound line off of his real at an alarming rate. I swore I heard the theme from, "Jaws" playing around the boat. Before he lost all of his line, I pulled anchor, and the fish proceeded to pull us slowly across the bay. The tension mounted as his fought this thing for twenty minutes. Never have I seen a fish fight so hard. In bass fishing, if he isn't in the boat in a few minutes, you should take up sewing. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't too friendly. Finally, it got to the boat, and this huge mass turned on its back. It was a stingray or skate, I never could tell the difference, with a wingspan larger then the hood of a car. The boat rocked as this creature began throwing water upon us at a constant rate. I picked up the oar. I wasn't for sure whom I was going to hit. This giant winged creature, or my father-in-law, if he tried to bring this thing aboard this little boat. As the chaos continued, he pulled out his knife, and cut the line. It sounded line a gun going off as the ray circled the boat a few times before heading back down to the depths of the bay. A feeling of relief engulfed my body. "Wow, I guess he was pissed, huh? "As we re-anchored, and started catching more small fish throughout the morning and into early afternoon, we notice dark clouds forming at a distance. We were only a few miles from the ramp, so we decide to fish a little more. At the first sign of lightning, we were to pack our gear and head in. We spotted lightning. "Lets get out of here." We started packing up. Other boats also started heading in as the sounds of thunder began to accompany the lightning. I choked the motor, and with one mighty and quick pull, SNAP! The string came off in my hand. Our mouth's dropped open. Immediately, my father-in-law dropped the trolling motor, and guided us to the ramp. I thought, "No, this can't be happening." I desperately began the painful process of retying the starter string. Like an old lawn mower, it took time. The first drop fell about five minutes into the trip home. I was almost finished retying the string when the sky let out a tremendous roar. I thought we were hit by lightning. The bay became rough, and the rain began to dance throughout the boat. Once you hear the sound of huge, icy raindrops hit an aluminum haul, from the inside, you'll never forget it. I finished wrapping the started, and pulled the engine a few times. It finally started as a blinding sheet of rain impaired our vision. Instead of going all the way to the channel, I decided to head back to the ramp, as the crow flies. I figure my boat's draft was shallow enough to make it, and this would also save us a lot time. I was wrong. I forgot about the long shaft of my main motor. Approximately five hundred yards from the ramp, we ran aground. The water in the boat was almost covering the trolling motor batteries. Thank goodness it didn't short them out. We lifted the big motor, and used the trolling motor to get us back in deeper water. Other boats offered a hand, but we told them that we hand things under control. I restarted the main engine, and drove the boat full throttle to the dock. We jumped out of the boat, ran to his truck, and waited for the storm to pass. There was not a dry place on our bodies. After about a half-hour of pounding, the storm subsided. My Grumman, still floating, looked like a kiddie pool. The boat was almost half full of icy water. After wincing it to the trailer at an angle that allowed most of the water to exit, we got it back on the trailer. We laughed all the way back to Kenton, DE. This was out sixth trip together, and it would be nothing compared to our upcoming seventh trip, but that's another story.