Gone Fishin'

I made my first fishing attempt Saturday morning.  I met up with one of the Dentists here and her husband.  He not only lent me his brand new pole, he let me fish in his spot under the second bridge. 

Apparently they got the money for these bridges through Senator Ted Stevens.  I know Tyler will be like, “Man, I need a bridge named after me.”  And then, "I better I get a better memorial sign out in front of my bridge."  He even had some fancy, shiny, feathery lures. (Is that the right word, lures?  I wanted to spell it lewers, but the computer didn’t like that.) 

I was doing pretty good casting and reeling, until I got hooked.  For a brief moment, I thought I had a fish, but it wasn’t really pulling on me as hard as I was pulling on it.  It was no fish; it was a whale.   Hahaha, no.  I was stuck on the burlap from the cement bags that they used to build up the sea wall under the bridge.  My friend had to cut the line and tie me on a new lure.  (I just can’t get over this word.  I say Lew – er.  Is that just southern?  Does the word really only have one syllable? )  After this happened twice more, I started to get the hang of reeling in faster so the hook wouldn’t have time to sink and catch the bags.

I don’t believe I have yet expressed to you our fishing conditions.  It was like 37 degrees and windy.  Apparently this was a west wind off the freezing cold ocean that was making it so cold.  It was bearable to me, but clearly the fish were none too pleased with the chill.  I think they were all in hiding.  Well, I got a picture of my first attempt anyway to prove that I tried.

See, these are the pesky bags I kept catching.  Except I caught the ones that are under the water.  I'm not that bad at fishing.