THE ABSOLUTELY NEXT TO LAST LAUGH

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The following bit of humor is compliments of:

Sandy Lindsey

HOW TO TELL IF YOUR KID IS A JUNIOR FISH-A-HOLIC

1. He does his school book reports on: Captain Scott Moore's Snook Fishing Secrets, The Orvis Guide to Saltwater Fly Fishing and The Kingfish Bible.

2. He dressed up as Mark Sosin for Halloween (and scared the entire neighborhood).

3. As a baby, he preferred teething on a Moldcraft plastic chugger (unrigged, of course) rather than a pacifier.

4. When he discovered girls, he tried using a 9/0 hook to "catch" one.

5. His school science fair project was entitled "How To Taxidermy Your Fish At Home."

6. He put his science fair award on the shelf next to his fillet knife collection.

7. His subscription to Hunting, Fishing & Outdoors Online Magazine doesn't run out until 2049.

8. Instead of baseball cards, he collects multi-pliers and other rigging tools.

9. He ended up in detention because he used his fists to defend his right to wear his favorite t-shirt, which reads "Knot Tying Tools Are For Sissies."

10. He'll only go to college when they come up with a major in "Fish Population Control."

Hope you enjoyed this.

Sandy Lindsey

email: selectfl@ix.netcom.com (Sandy Lindsey)

CREATIVE FISHING
by Bill Lindsey

It was that time of the year again, time for the annual Dusky Owners' Dolphin Tournament. For three years we had participated, and for three years we had been skunked. But this year would be different; this year we were committed to win!

The typical discussions of live bait versus dead bait came up, as did various suggestions of "can't miss" lures which were magnanimously offered by well-intentioned friends (and just as quickly discarded by us).

We had much more important matters on our minds. Our boat is a 20' fish-around cuddy model, representing the smaller end of the Dusky fishing fleet. It's beam won't support a tower, nor is it equipped with a T-top or rocket-lau ncher rod holders (I decided against them when I discovered it was just a term and they weren't really capable of launching rockets). We were at a distinct disadvantage against the larger, better-rigged competition.

Which meant some creative planning was in order.

The first plan we came up with was that we would top off the fuel tank and, at the 7:30 AM start of the tournament, blast over to Bimini, buy the biggest fish we could find, and hustle back in time for the official weigh -in. That plan was quickly abandoned as we were afraid we might run into a devious fellow competitor with the same idea, and we wanted no witnesses to our fishing creativity.

The second proposition was that we find someone with a salt-water swimming pool in their backyard. We'd then go out fishing the day prior to the tournament - oh hell, we'd go out for weeks before the tournament, catch t ons of dolphin, toss them in the pool, and keep feeding them so they'd gain weight, and then sneak them on the boat the day of the tournament.

While we all liked Plan #2, the major glitch was the only salt-water pool we could find was on board the Crown Princess, whose captain firmly refused to have his pool converted into a floating "petting zoo".

Despite this minor setback, we refused to give up.

Valiant scheme #3 involved going out fishing the day before the tournament, catching a lot of fish, and somehow tying the caught fish to a marker buoy to be retrieved the next day.

What we couldn't figure out was how to properly secure the dolphin so they'd still be there the next morning. We obviously couldn't leave them hooked because even if they didn't manage to toss the hook, given that much time, the sharpness of the average dolphin's tail could saw through the even the stoutest leader line. Also, we had to consider the possibility a neighboring shark might consider this floating smorgasbord too tempting to pass up.

Brilliant Scheme #4 was that we sink some kind of cage in which we could secure the caught fish, and keep them from being anyone's else's dinner but ours. But as no one was able to come up with a shark cage, this sugges tion was tabled with the speed of Congress voting down a pay cut.

Still, we refused to be defeated.

Plan #5 suggested we take the Dusky several miles offshore, where we would transfer over to a faster, larger, fully-equipped boat crewed by a bunch of professional fishermen. After catching all the fish we could safely load onto the Dusky, we'd rendezvous with it, transferring legitimate crew and illegitimate catch on board, and waddle back in for the weigh-in. The only problem with this plan was the fact that there'd be over 100 other Dusky boats roaming the ocean that day and the chances of getting caught transferring from one boat to another were too great.

Strategy #6 combined the time-honored tradition of throwing money at the boat to re-rig it so as to make it as much of a serious offshore fishing machine as we could pack into 20 feet, with the equally tried and true sch eme of recruiting a team of "ringers", guys who lived, breathed and slept nothing but fishing. One of the guys was so hardcore he insisted any girl he dated must: 1) hold at least 2 IGFA world records; 2) be able to fiel d-strip a Fin-Nor Ahab 50 blindfolded; and 3) have a father who owns a bait and tackle shop (needless to say, he doesn't date much).

Strategy #6 passed unanimously and we moved on to more pressing matters, such as what matching Hook & Tackle shirts and shorts our team would wear at the awards banquet.

Two days before the tournament, one of the "ringers", who was an investment banker by day, was transferred to his firm's Denver office for several months. His fishing partner - ringer #2 - was in such a foul mood about having to sit out a whole string of upcoming summer tournaments that he wasn't talking to anyone.

Suddenly we were on our own.

Never fear, having acquired the skill, we quickly managed to "catch" some new ringers.

And so we progressed to rigging the boat, installing a Chem-Tainer baitwell and haunting bait shops trying to determine the best live bait to use. We were so preoccupied with our preparations that we neglected to watch the weather. When we heard people talking about Allison, we assumed they were people with no lives who were enmeshed in the latest episode of Melrose Place. Imagine our surprise to find Tropical Storm Allison and her 7' rollers just outside Port Everglades at the 7:30 A.M. start.

There weren't any other boats out except for about 20 other Dusky-owning lunatics, also known as "determined fishermen", and a dozen Robalo boats in their own tournament. About 1 mile out, our crew announced that as thi s was a "fun" tournament, the fact that they weren't having any meant it was over.

No, we didn't win largest fish overall, or most fish caught (though we did win a great Chem- Tainer baitwell - the exact same model as the one we had installed on the boat two days before the tournament). We did have a great day fishing in the Port, with good friends, which is ultimately all the award we need to motivate us to take the boat out and chase fish. And we learned a lot, which leads to my next question - Does anyone have a sea-going blast-freezer we can borrow next June?

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