Oz Fishing Charter

Just talked to number 2 son, who lives in Oz.
His fiance took him fishing for his BD.
Besides them there were about a dozen young guys who
comprised a "bachelor party."
Weird. Here a bachelor party means strippers and drinking booze.
Anyway, outside of Sidney Harbor the boat is rolling 40 degrees
to port, then starboard, then port.
They get to the skipper's spot and as soon as my son's bait hits the
water to hooks a 5 lb something or other. He horses it up on deck,
the mate takes it off, and he notices his fiance is puking her guts
out. He consoles her, and notices the dozen bachelor party guys
are all puking, and none even got a line in the water.
Shortly one of them comes over and asks him if it ok with him if they
go back. He's getting green himself, so he says sure, and back they
go.
Some fishing trip, eh?

--Vic

Vic Smith wrote:
> Just talked to number 2 son, who lives in Oz.
> His fiance took him fishing for his BD.
> Besides them there were about a dozen young guys who
> comprised a "bachelor party."
> Weird. Here a bachelor party means strippers and drinking booze.
> Anyway, outside of Sidney Harbor the boat is rolling 40 degrees
> to port, then starboard, then port.
> They get to the skipper's spot and as soon as my son's bait hits the
> water to hooks a 5 lb something or other. He horses it up on deck,
> the mate takes it off, and he notices his fiance is puking her guts
> out. He consoles her, and notices the dozen bachelor party guys
> are all puking, and none even got a line in the water.
> Shortly one of them comes over and asks him if it ok with him if they
> go back. He's getting green himself, so he says sure, and back they
> go.
> Some fishing trip, eh?
>
> --Vic


The least they could have done was puke over the side to make a nice
chum line.

Just before we moved north from Jax and after I had gotten my boat
shipped north, I went out for a last fishing trip on one of Captain
George's famous charters out of Mayport. Damn nice charter boat, new at
the time.

Anyway, we had a bunch of heavy drinkers with us. They were dropping
shots of schnapps into cups of beer. Lots of schnapps, lots of beer.

They were all out of it before we got five miles offshore, and we were
going out 40 miles. The boat was rolling a little, the diesel fumes were
a bit heavy, and it only took a short while before almost all of them
were puking over the rails.

By the time we got to where we were going, there were only four
fishermen...me, Captain George himself, one of his mates, and the date
of one of the drunks.

We didn't turn back, though there were requests.