| Author | Message | |||
     Captpete |
OK, Blake... I downloaded some pdf software. I don't know how long it will last as it is a trial version. But they allude that it is free with no registration required, so we'll see about that. And thanks for getting me going a little bit, Reep. This is the first time I've written anything in a long while. I hope this is more like what you were looking for. It's a funny incident, and only takes a few lines to relate. But a lot of times, a little something like this is all that's needed to get going. First, you need to provide a little background to set the incident up, so that's where you start. And then, that reminds you about some other stuff that was happening at the time, so you throw that up on the page. But that might not be entirely clear, so you digress a little bit, and before you realize it, the whole thing is taking on a life of its own, and you go with it. Next thing you know, it's lunch time, and you've got a 3,676-word piece sitting in front of you. Very little of it has to do with the original incident, but that's ok. The way I try to write, is about the journey. If I've enjoyed taking it as it gets written, maybe I'll get lucky and the reader will find the same enjoyment as he/she follows me down the trail. So anyway, here's to old Mutt. I hope his feet are still firmly planted on the bottom.  Capt. Pete
| |||
| Oldog |
Classic! Thanks for sharing that laugh Capt'n!  | |||
| Reepicheep |
 Thanks Pete! Great read! | |||
| Davegess |
Cap'n, great work as usual. | |||
| Ulywife |
Love Capt. Pete stories! | |||
| Blake |
Glorious! Thanks Captain. Every time I read one of your fishing tales, I want to drop everything and crew for ya. I may wobble from time to time, but I know how to swim. | |||
| Captpete |
Thanks, y'all. That one was fun to write. Great way to go back and relive old times. But that damned door at the Watermen's Lounge... I'm amazed that I remember any of what happened on the hill. But the memories of what took place on the fishing grounds are still as clear as if they happened yesterday. We put a natural-born hurtin' on those scallops, but it wasn't all successes. I recall another one of those funny things that occurred while fishing. I can describe that one pretty quickly: After Richard had made a couple of trips as my deck boss, his back was starting to bother him. He suggested that maybe we ought to build a culling table on the back deck so the crew could get off those little 6-inch high stools, and work standing up. This was not a novel idea, as many shrimp trawlers used culling tables. I told him he could run the deck any way he wanted, and to get a bill of materials together. We sailed on the next trip with a big pile of lumber stacked up on the deck, sheets of 3/4-inch plywood, 2x6's, 4x4's, and bags of nails and carriage bolts. As soon as we cleared the inlet at Chincoteague, the power tools came out and construction began in earnest. By the time we all sat down in the galley for dinner that evening, the deck was cleaned up, the tools were stowed back in their respective lockers, and a massive 12x16-foot culling table stood in the middle of the back deck. It was a marvel of engineering, 4x4 legs, 2x6 cross bracing going every which-a-way, and a 2x6 lip around its perimeter to keep the scallops from falling off. We had left the grounds on the last trip shortly after finding a hot little patch of scallops, which is always nice, because you start the next trip right in the meat. We set the gear, pulled for 20 minutes, and hauled the nets back. We were fishing a style of nets called four-bangers. Two nets were fished side-by-side off the end of each outrigger. When you bring the catch to the boat, you leave most of the gear hanging from the outrigger. There is a big heavy bag at the tail of each net that holds the catch, and the first part of the operation is to pull a pair of them to the side of the boat. Next you attach a whip line to them, which runs up into the rigging and then down to the deck winch. This is heave-duty stuff, and the whip lines are 1 1/4-inch diameter. You lift the bags up over the rail, and while they are suspended above the deck, one man trips the purse string that holds the end of the bag closed. As soon as it trips, the bag takes its original shape, which is a cylinder, and the contents drop to the deck. It happens fast. If there's any kind of sea on, the bags can get to swinging back and forth above the deck. That's not good. If you trip the bags while they are swinging, no telling which direction the scallops are headed. To alleviate this problem, you drop the un-tripped bags right in the center of the deck. If you miss a little bit, you lift them up a few inches and try again. Then you time the roll of the boat, lift the bags straight up, the man on the deck quickly trips them, and the scallops fall to the middle of the deck. Most captains operate the whip lines. They are running the show physically, and have a view of the entire deck and can direct the crew if need be. So here came the first tow of the trip, up over the rail. The one thing that was different this time was that the bags were now going to have to be lifted about three feet higher than normal to clear the culling table. I timed the roll of the boat so that the bags would clear the rail as the boat was rolling toward them. This would give me time to get the bags above the table before they started swinging toward it. That worked ok, but then when the boat rolled the other way, the bags were going to swing hard. That was anticipated. I was going to have to try to drop the bags in the center of the table to stop the swinging before it got out of hand. Now remember... I had 3000 pounds of weight swinging at the end of that whip line. That's almost exactly what a 1965 Chevy Stingray weighs. I dropped it to the center of the table, and it was like a 3000-pound, dead-blow sledge hammer slamming into the top of that table. The bags never even slowed down. They went straight to the deck. 4x4 legs squirted out in all directions to the sound of 2x6's cracking and splintering all about the bags. Richard and I looked at each other, and broke out in fits of laughter. It was a train wreck, but it was funny as hell. Richard was the first to speak. "I guess we'd better get the Skillsaw out." "Yeah," I answered, "and the SawZall, too." We chopped the table up into little pieces, threw them overboard, and got the little culling stools out. |
Man Overboard