Total nightmare to get there on time. No L train running and for those of us with cars we ate collective shit on every road and highway heading south or west. Part of our group (Thomas, Paige, Jane) didn’t make it, so it was up to Matt, Dave Cole, and myself to hold it down. Dave was making himself busy drinking earlier in the day and he tantalizingly waved a flask of whiskey around the car while I was busy stressing about traffic and making it before the boat left us.
We miraculously made it, parked and grabbed the coolers of beer, took a healthy belt of whiskey myself, and hoofed it to the boat. For as many people that can fit on all these party boats and party yachts, there is little parking to be found. We got aboard the MJIV and met up with Red Hook Robbie and his friend Blue (refraining from the obvious joke here). We tried to stall the boat as there was still some hope for another miracle that Thomas et al. would somehow make it, but after 15 minutes (or two beers as I remember it) he called waving the white flag. We set off in the Brooklyn sunset.
It was dark by the time we passed Coney Island. We were fishing with sandworms tonight, which I’m pretty sure were the inspiration for the giant worms seen in the greatest Kevin Bacon movie ever, Tremors. Robbie showed us the proper way to hook one up: through the mouth that looks like an asshole with retractable pincers, and then, STRAIGHT UP THE GUT! as my friend Matt likes to say. Straight up the gut. We were using 8oz sinkers and boat rods, though Robbie brought his own setup. We hit a few spots here and there and saw the captain had little patience for no fish as the horn was quickly sounded if there were no hookups in five or so minutes. We headed to the Verrazano Bridge and took passes drifting underneath the Brooklyn side. We made a sidebet among us five over who would catch the first striper, a bet I promptly won five minutes later with a little bass, maybe 24″. That was both my first bass of the year (don’t tell anyone) and my last bass of the night.
Robbie and Blue started catching fish and their count quickly dusted ours. Matt reeled in a fish he didn’t even realize he had and it was all up to Dave to complete the circle. Finally after many laborious minutes he caught one. As did everyone else on the boat, mostly shorts. I’m not sure there was one keeper among the fish we caught, some looked close but were tossed back to the mercy of the sea (harbor). Final tally was: Robbie: 9, Blue: 4, Matt: 3, Dave: 2, Me: one. I’m sorry I don’t have pictures and only a wall ‘o text to show for it. Both mine and Dave’s cameras are still broken, and with the money we spent at Applebees across the street from the pier, we may have been able to buy another one.