Gone Fishing - And All I Caught Was This Wierd Ass Critter

Got up at 5 am to go fishing this morning. I went out to Boston Harbor with my fishing buddy Sean. Our goal was flounder, but what I got was pretty much a rather damp workout. When we headed out the weather was pretty nice. Sunshine and a brisk, but not overpowering, breeze.

With Boston in the background, we launched from Deer Island and immediately set to trying to catch us some flatfish for dinner. My friend Sean was stoked to test out his new Hobie kayak outfitted with foot peddles. By the end of the morning, I wished I have invested in a kayak with a supplimental drive system as well.

Sean was able to snag three fairly nice flounder. Me, all I got was this freaky looking critter.

A special prize goes to the first person who can correctly ID this animal. I give you one hint, ain't no flounder.

Anyway, after little success on my end, we decided to paddle out to the Deer Island Light in hopes of running into some early season striped bass. They usually don't show up in our area until June, but we had heard rumors thought the monofilament grapevine that the hogs had come in early this year. As soon as we made it out to the light house, the wind picked up to a more than brisk 15 mph. After tooling around in the leeward side of the light for a bit with no further luck, I decided I had had enough and called to Sean that I was going to paddle around the the protected side of Deer Island to get away from the wind and go on in. The wind immediately kicked up to 20 mph coming directy from the direction I was headed. Now if you are not familiar with Deer Island, it really is no longer an island, but a penesula that has been connected to the mainland via a roadway that was laid on top of a bed of boulders. Point is, there is always at least one side of the "island" that is protected from the wind. Unfortunately for me, apparently Poseidon did not get this memo. So as I paddled back, he decided to kick it up a notch with about 5 more mph's on the headwind, which somehow managed to remain in my face the entire way back to the beach. After almost an hour of paddling into what could only be considered a rather "srtong" headwind, I finally made it back to the landing, exhausted and fishless.

Like they say, a bad day on the water . . . . . . .