Take the Edge Off with Catching Big Freaking Fish

I think the best thing about writing your own blog is that you don't get any points taken off for turning your work in. That said, here is my post meant for last Saturday...

Sunday was the time of year for perhaps the only tradition my dad and I actually observe, our annual blue fishing trip. Every year since 2005, we go get up waaaaay too early, drive to Belmar, New Jersey, and hop on a party boat to spend the better part of the day following schools of blue fish around the Atlantic Coast. I've been able to think back to determine that this year was actually our 6th year making the trip. Join me for a trip down memory lane with a quick timeline:

2005-on a whim, Dad and I decide to celebrate Father's Day by going blue fishing, something I hadn't done in years because the gentle motion of waves on a breezy summer day used to make me puke until I wanted to die. This time, I take Dramamine and am talked into believing the bullshit story that wearing a blue bracelet that puts pressure on the veins in my wrist will prevent me from vomiting. Since I don't vomit, I choose to believe it. We catch so many fish and have such a great day that we decide to make it a yearly thing.

2006-We bring one of my best friends with us, and he chooses to wear gloves with the fingertips cut off. We make abundant amounts of fun of him. Once again catch a lot of fish. Oh, and I still believe the bullshit bracelet thing.

2007-This year I don't wear the blue bracelets and am quite surprised to find that solely with the use of Dramamine, I am the only one of our group of 4 that does not get seasick. One of the guys in said group impresses us all by being the only person I've ever met who could puke and laugh at the same time. Catch decent amount of fish.

2008-This is the only year that comes close to being a bad trip. The first mate of the Miss Belmar Princess is new, and turns out to be a world class fuckface. He's a big, fat, baldy-headed douche bag who does little more than badmouth the customers to other customers. He won't supply us with a bucket to keep the fish in, even though we tell him that we don't eat fish and plan on giving it to the mates to sell and only want to keep track of of the fish we catch just in case we catch a fish big enough to win the pool that we entered at the beginning of the trip. Dad decides to throw fish back after catching them, ignoring baldy-fatty's exclamations that he would keep the fish if we didn't want them. However, even though we had to deal with the cream of New Jersey's crap, we still manage to have a good time and catch some fish.

2009-When we get to the marina at Belmar, we see Baldy is still working on the Miss Belmar. Pops asks again if we can use a bucket, and again the prick says no. So, we take our first trip on our favorite new boat, the Golden Eagle! If you ever find yourself in Belmar looking for a blue fishing trip, use the Golden Eagle. The crew is a bunch of young guys, but they are great workers, friendly as hell, and are great with a gaff (gaff=big hook used to pull fish out of the water; they are too heavy to lift over with your rod). We again have a great day.

And that brings us to this year's trip, which was another great adventure. The one pain in the ass that comes every year is having to be up by 4:00am for Dad to pick me up, otherwise we won't get that coveted spot at the stern of the boat (that's the back of the boat to ye, matey). But it's Father's Day so I take one for the team, mainly so that I don't have to listen to Dad bitch and moan all day. This year was a little bit weird as there was a heavy fog off the coast, so we couldn't see more than a couple hundred yards in either direction. It made me feel very isolated from the rest of the world, which was an odd sensation. It didn't last, however, as we were eventually joined by all of the other boats from the Belmar marina, including, guess who...the Miss Belmar. And, if I liked the crew of the Golden Eagle before, what happened next pushed me into a full-on mancrush. As it turns out, these guys share our disdain for Baldy, so they were tearing him a new asshole while we chimed in (lamely). Then they realized that not only had one of the idiots from the Miss Belmar let their line out too far so that it was getting tangled in our lines, but the jackass actually had a fish on. So, one of the mates grabbed the line and proceeded to gaff the fish and keep it for the Golden Eagle, and since the line had become tangled in my Dad's reel, Pop decided just to cut the thing. So hopefully one of the guests on the Miss Belmar took away from his experience that if you fish with them, you will lose your fishing lure and another boat will end up with your fucking fish. Maybe next year we'll find out that Baldy is unemployed.

So needless to say it was another great year. We didn't catch quite as many fish as we have in previous years, but the ones we did catch were pretty damn big. In fact, I'm pretty sure the first fish I caught is the biggest fish I've ever caught in my life. Dad says it was probably about 10 or 11 pounds, so I'll round it off to an even 40. And, lest anyone ever try and say that I'm a bad fiance, after twelve hours worth of fishing/travel/getting sunburnt, I came home, showered, helped Mrs. Grump-to-Be entertain some friends for our housewarming dinner, and THEN cleaned up afterwards. If anyone is familiar with the application for sainthood, be sure to let me know because I'm quite obviously a shoe-in.