News and Events for Nantucket Island
The cross-examination was withering: question after question, each one seemingly a tripwire cleverly placed to snare my plodding steps. The law yer pressed me relentlessly, stepping up his attack by the slightest degree, sensing that I was a moment away from falling apart. And he was right—my confidence was waning, and I was f loundering. I couldn’t play his game any longer. I reverted to what I did best, what had gotten me this far, what has always been the key to my survival I counterpunched.
How old am I? Man, I’m so old that I’ve attended about a dozen Jimmy Buffett concerts. Brother Jimmy has a particular appeal to those of us who spend a lot of time on islands. He gets us. A great example of Mr. Buffett’s understanding of island life is his song “Coconut Telegraph,” a song that accurately describes the speed at which news spreads around an island community. Yes indeed, island gossip is faster than, well, a false albacore. And there’s not much out there that’s faster than Mr. Albert.
Unsinkability. Is that a real term? Well, I’m going to say yes, seeing how my spellcheck feature didn’t draw a red line under the word. But what does it really mean to be unsinkable? It’s not always a positive term, of course. The Titanic was said to be unsinkable, and that didn’t go so well. But in my lexicon, if I feel that someone is considered unsinkable, it’s high praise.
We humans tend to be territorial. People hang out in areas that they like, staying in their comfort zones. Also, we generally stick to routines and, thus, can be fairly predictable. For example, my wife and I have our favorite spot where we sit for church every Sunday. We would be all out of sorts if we had to move to a different location. Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it? No, but that’s how humans are. And all of these strange traits are directly applicable to us fishing folks, to be sure.
My morning routine goes like this: Step one – make coffee. Step two – check email while drinking coffee. Step three usually involves looking at the world news and being disgusted. Let’s just ignore step three for now, shall we? Much too depressing.
It was looking very much like one of those days. Three plus hours into our beach charter excursion and nary a hookup. Each of us had at least one fish blow up on our respective fishing lures, but somehow all of the attacking fish had dodged our hooks. The only thing biting were the mosquitoes and green head flies. Alas, our time was up and it looked like we had to take the long ride back from Great Point with a skunk tagging along. That is not my favorite thing, let me tell ya…
