Tales from a Carolina Crazy: Reaching the End of My Rope

By GRIGSBY ARNETTE

In his second book Grigsby has amassed a delightful collection of humorous short stories that takes us back through our youthful days of innocent pranks and rollicking fun with friends and acquaintances.

TALES FROM A CAROLINA CRAZY covers experiences from childhood through college days and into adulthood. The adventure, humor, thrill of the chase and much more takes us across the United States, Canada as well as through the Middle and Far East.

This collection of stories written from a Southerner's point of view will amuse, entertain and enlighten you. If you would like to find out what it was like to grow up in the South, travel across country and read about foreign adventures, then you'll certainly devour TALES FROM A CAROLINA CRAZY.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781467041614

GRIGSBY ARNETTE

Grigsby Arnette was born and raised in South Carolina where he spent his youth exploring the Atlantic ocean, the waterways and national forests of the area, always seeking adventure.   As a tennis professional he has traveled around the world fifteen times experiencing quite a few changes in customs and cultures.  He has also lived in many areas across the United States.  He is recognized by the USTA and the USPTA as a well respected coach on the international level.  He has also coached many foreign Davis Cup teams.   In addition to his tennis, he is a professional percussionist, fisherman, hunter, mountain climber, scuba diver and dirt biker.  He also is the inventor and owner of www.BiminiRingGame.com.  He has a quick wit, love for life and an unquenchable thirst for adventure.

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Contents

PREFACE

THE BIMINI BILLFISH TOURNAMENT

SOME PEOPLE JUST HAVE ALL THE LUCK

THE REPAID GRUDGE

LOST YOUR HUBCAP?

IT’S OK TO WHIP ASS

ODE TO A REDNECK

BETTER GUARD YOUR GRILL

SNAKE BITE

THE MAN THAT DID NOT ESCAPE

THE DOG INSPECTORS

MIDNIGHT MARY

HURRICANE

CRUSIN’ FOR A BOOZIN’

INTERNET DATING

POISON TIPPED ARROWS

PLEASE DON’T MACE ME

LAST POKER GAME

PULL A JOKE ON ‘DEM FOLK

GIVE ME THE FINGER

NO MORE RIDES

KING BULL

BE MY GUEST

THE SKY VIEW DRIVE-IN

LAST DENTIST VISIT

THE PAYBACK

ALL ABOARD, MIAMI

THE SUNDAY DRIVE

LAST HIGH-SCHOOL REUNION

BULLY IN THE FOURTH GRADE

THE GREEN JIG

DRUM SOLO

DORM LIFE IS GOOD

BORED? KIDNAP A DRUNK FOR SPORT

THE GOBBLER

PLEASE, ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF

OUT OF CONTROL AND NO HOPE IN SIGHT

BE CAREFUL WHERE YOU DANGLE YOUR RED WIGGLERS

TABLE DANCER

TOE SUCK

BREAKING IN A DUMB ASS

LET YOUR IMAGINATION RUN WILD

SNAKE SURPRISE

CAUGHT NAKED

KNIGHT IN SHINNING ARMOR

HAPPY HUNTING

HANG-GLIDING BRAINLESS

NO MORE ATTACK DOGS

STRANDED AT SANTEE

ENTERING THE FOOD CHAIN

CAT PRINTS IN THE TUNA FISH SALAD

LAST JUMP

IF I END UP IN JAIL IT’S BECAUSE I MURDERED MY DOCTOR

OBSESSED

YOUR LUCK CAN CHANGE AT THE DROP OF A HAT

THE HAIR PIECE

FAMILY VACATION

ROLLING THE BONES WITH DICK QUICK AND REDNECK RALPH

THE BOAT IS ON FIRE

THE BIG CON

THE MOOSE ARE STILL SAFE

WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND

BULLMASTER

CALLING UP THE CATS

BUZZED OFF

CAMPER’S NIGHTMARE

THE CAT’S IN THE BAG

HOLY MEN AND THEIR RAP

FLYING HIGH

A DOG FROM MEXICO

THE ADVENTURES OF WET MAN AND DRY MAN

A FRIGHT FOR LIFE

TASER STUPID

LAST FLIGHT WITH CODY BOSWELL

CHARTER BOAT HIT AND RUN

GETTING OUT OF THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

THE LEGEND OF CHARLIE FRANKLIN

THAT 60’S HIPPY THING, MAN!

TOWEL HEADS

I’M HUNTING WILD BOAR NOT TWENTY FOOT MONKEYS!

ENTER AT OWN RISK

DIAMONDS OR GOLD?

THE POOR CRABBER

THE SHORT JOB

PLANTATION PLUNDERING

THE PELICAN WAS BRIEF

FACE THE CONSEQUENCES

A MOUNTAINEER IN HIS OWN MIND

NO WONDER THE FISH AIN’T BITING

NO MORE BALD-HEADED WOMEN

RABBIT STEW

NO TRESPASSING

FIRST BOW KILL

MAD MAX

THE FAR EAST CONNECTION,

DESTINATION BANGKOK

PLEASE DON’T PASS THE MONKEY BRAIN

THE BIG SCRUB

FISHING IN STYLE

I’M NO TERRORIST, GIVE ME BACK MY BRIEFCASE

BIZARRE ARRANGEMENTS

THE UNBELIEVABLE SCHEDULE

THE GOLDEN TRIANGLE

FIRST AND LAST MONKEY HUNT

CHARACTERS OF PATPONG ROAD

THE MID EAST CONNECTION,

THE HOMOSEXUAL CAMEL PILOT

BUMLUCK EGYPT

WHO IN THE HELL EVER SAID, DON’T PANIC!

THE CURSE OF THE PHARAOH

Dedicated to my wife Peggy for getting me off my lazy you know what by inspiring me with her wit and charm to finish this book, and my son Grigsby who keeps me laughing constantly. And, of course last but not least, to the people about whom this book was written, only their names have been changed to protect the guilty.

PREFACE

The events and happenings told within this book are authentic. Many have been told and rehashed hundreds of times by a variety of people over the years. They have become distorted, misinterpreted and in most cases pretty far-fetched. Great pains have been taken everywhere to preserve the embellishment that has long clothed many of these tales with humor and irony.

The subjects range from the Great Smoky Mountains to the seas of the Southeastern United States, all across the country and Canada, the Mid East and the Far East. Its scope ranges from childhood and college day pranks to the dilemmas and events that be-chanced adulthood. These stories are woven of fish and beast, pranks and humor, the thrill of the chase, chance happenings of youth and the peculiarities of foreign travels. These stories have been gathered from members of family, close friends, dwellers of the countryside, the untamed mountains, the sandy seashores, the vast wildernesses, the wild jungles and the great pyramids. A few stories are my own experiences encountered alone or with good friends. Many other stories were carefully researched and found humorous, amusing and entertaining enough to share with others.

This book is written from an Animal House point of view incorporating sarcasm with much used slang. The purpose is to amuse and entertain, possibly leaving a touch of nostalgia with the reader. The use of language and wording is purposeful in hopes of capturing the emotions of each situation precisely as they occurred.

Fictitious names have been created for the characters in all stories. Any semblance found with these stories and characters by the reader is sheer coincidence. This is merely to serve as discretion for the true identity of the characters involved. So, grab a seat, make yourself comfortable and oh, buckle up. Houston, we have a problem!

THE BIMINI BILLFISH TOURNAMENT

Les Johnson lived in Mount Pleasant just north of Charleston S.C. He got a call from his good friend Jeff Baxter suggesting, Hey Les, why don’t you drive down to my buddy Ron’s house in Florida next weekend and cruise over to Bimini with us? There’s a bunch of us going to the 25th annual Bacardi Rum Billfish Tournament. We’ll be hanging out at the Bimini Big Game Fishing Club, you’ll love it! I want you to see Ron’s boat. Believe me, these are your kind of people. I can promise you it will be one of the most incredible times you’ll ever experience.

Uh-huh, sounds almost too good to be true, but if you’re on the level at least it’ll get me away from this damn computer, expressed Les with a laugh.

All right then, it’s settled. See you in a few days, replied Jeff.

The following Wednesday Les got up early running into a little bit of a dog problem. A short time later he left for Hollywood, Florida. Everyone was meeting at Ron’s house. It was late afternoon when he arrived. The house was enormous! Les rang the doorbell. Ron opened the door saying, You must be Les. Ron Tate, glad to see you made it, welcome to Hollywood.

Les shaking Ron’s hand said, My pleasure Ron. Glad to be here, where’s the rest of the crew?

They’re back in the den having a drink. Look’s like you could use one yourself, suggested Ron.

You’re right about that, maybe even three or four, replied Les with a laugh.

As Les followed Ron back to the den he couldn’t help but notice the house was quite a pad. It was obvious Ron wasn’t short of cash. The place was spectacular! Entering the den he saw his friends, Jeff, David, and Ed. Jeff immediately got up shaking his hand saying, Well, I see you finally made it. Sorry, but we just had to start partying without you. What the hell took you so long?

Don’t worry, I’ll catch up. Please give me a double Ron. I tell you this morning was a damn nightmare! Have you ever tried to do something so right and it turned out to be just a complete disaster? asked Les smiling.

David and Ed stood up shaking hands with Les. Ed asked, What the hell happened?

Well, I was running a little late, but just had to have a cup of coffee. I put a fresh bag into the coffee maker, plugged it in and hopped in the shower. Then, as I was drying my eighty-five hairs I could smell that fresh scent of coffee. I walked into the kitchen and it was made all right, but I’d forgotten to put the pot properly under the dispenser. My feet got scalded and it was too late for my dog. He’d already sampled several laps of the hot stuff and won’t be able to eat for a couple of days. Had to drop him off at the vet on the way out of town, that’s why I’m running late. Everyone busted out laughing.

Then, Ron introduced him to Tim Thomas. Tim worked for Ron in LA. Les said, Glad to meet you Tim. I can see Ron doesn’t have a cash flow problem, must be all the money you’re making for him. So, what actually do you do?

Tim explained, Ron is one of the inventors of grout, you know the stuff that goes between tiles. He’s got a factory here in Hollywood and I’m the plant manager of the other one in LA.

Pretty cool, you know that comes as a big relief for me, replied Les.

How’s that? questioned Tim.

Because I thought these bum friends of mine were trying to get me into another one of their, can’t go wrong bullshit deals! stated Les laughing.

Ed interrupted, No, actually we just wanted you in on a hell of a good time. We figured we kind of owed it to you after we burned up your car on last year’s skiing trip. You see Les; it’s lonely at the top. There’s not many of us left, we’re a dying breed. That’s why it’s important for us to stick together.

Lonely at the top, dying breed, stick together, you crazy son-of-a-bitch, let’s just thank God I had good insurance. Well hell everybody, drink up! replied Les quickly downing a shot of tequila.

They all sat around another hour slamming shots and playing the Bimini Ring Game. Ed had become obsessed with this game, damn addicted is more like it! Ed said, I wonder what crazy son-of-a-bitch came up with this game?

Ron said, A damn smart one! All right, enough of the chit-chat, the Atlantic is waiting. Grab your bags and let’s get out of here. There’s a trophy marlin out there somewhere with my name on him."

Where’s the boat? questioned Les.

Out back, Ron replied.

Everyone grabbed their bags and mixed themselves one for the road walking out the back door. Les whispered to Jeff, Hey look, I’m not going over to Bimini on some piece of shit! I Googled it online last night and disappearing in the Bermuda Triangle ain’t my bag. I also just saw last week a National Geographic special about it, hell everything disappeared! So, what’s the deal here? I never know when you guys are serious. Most of the time you’re all so full of crap.

Suddenly, Les got his first glimpse of Ron’s boat. It was huge! Does that answer your question? asked Jeff pointing toward the boat with a laugh.

Yeah, certainly does! exclaimed Les stepping on board.

The boat was quite substantial, a sixty-eight foot two and a half million-dollar custom built trophy Hatterus name appropriately of course, the CATCH ‘EM ALL. Talk about a fishing machine! This thing was built for serious ocean travel as well as big game fishing. Les said, Hey Ron, how about give me a little more information about this fishing tournament?"

Be happy too. You see, this tournament coincides with the annual migration of the blue marlin that passes by the island of Bimini. The event not only offers an opportunity for great fishing, but other unrestrained events like banquets, hors d’oeuvres contests, a Billfish Foundation raffle, nightly cocktail parties with the Bob Marley band and of course the Bacardi Rum drinking contest, which I personally won last year. Also, this event attracts a fleet of sportsmen that reads like the who’s who of big game fishing. I guess that about covers it, think you can force yourself to kick back and have a good time Les?

I don’t think I brought enough money! replied Les with a smile.

Ron laughed saying, Hey, don’t worry about it, it’s my company’s expense. When the money tree grows this high, it’s got to be trimmed. Just have to thin out the cash flow once in a while.

Well, this will be my first experience trimming and thinning at such a level, but I’ll give it a hell of a try, said Les laughing along with Ron.

At that time the mate of the boat cast off all lines. The skipper throttled up a short distance down the Intracoastal Waterway and soon they were cruising in the Atlantic moving along at thirty five knots. It was an extremely hot day, the ocean was calm and slick, not a ripple. As they got out of sight of land, suddenly they noticed flying fish everywhere. Other than Ron and the crew, no one else in the group had ever seen such a spectacle. Ron said, Yeah, we’ve seen them like this many times. Matter-of-fact, they come in very handy for the OTWTBFFSC.

Ron mysteriously disappeared below deck with no further explanation. Everyone looked puzzled. A minute later he reappeared with a shotgun. Les looked at his buddies mumbling, Is that what I think it’s for?

BOOM BOOM, got two! Ron yelled with a laugh. Like I said before, they’re great for the OTWTBFFSC.

What the hell does that mean? questioned David still with a puzzled look.

Oh, I forgot you all were first timers out here like this. It stands for the On the Way to Bimini Flying Fish Shooting Contest. BOOM BOOM, two more!" Ron yelled out laughing madly.

Ron had dusted four flying fish. He reloaded handing the shotgun to David saying, Ok, your turn, they’re everywhere! Take your pick, shooter’s choice.

You couldn’t help but laugh it was so crazy. And, without a doubt there were certainly an unlimited number of moving targets. David squeezed off two rounds, BOOM BOOM, got none! he said as everyone laughed.

The flying fish contest lasted over an hour. Everyone including the crew had several chances to see how many they could hit. Finally, the ammo ran out, but not before the flying fish population dropped substantially in that area. Funny, but the chef won with 15 confirmed kills. Ron said, And, don’t worry about the flying fish, their remains were happily digested by their friends and other fish. Everyone laughed shaking their heads in disbelief after being assured from Ron that their corpses were being useful.

The chef celebrated his victory with a cold beer. Although, by looking at him strutting around you’d have thought he’d won the Pulitzer Prize. Finally, after continuous gloating Ron motioned for him to get back into the galley and prepare lunch. Ron then said, I guess you all know by now my chef is deaf. Crazy thing, but he told me he recently filed for divorce because his wife was always nagging him in sign language. Everyone busted out laughing.

Soon, they were feasting on prime rib, bake potato and wedge salad. Consuming any further alcoholic beverages was left up to the individuals. Jeff said, Now, that’s what I call a delicious lunch! All agreed shaking their heads. Sure is funny how food is always better on a fishing trip.

Just then David’s cell phone rang. It was his wife Sara saying, David, I took Fi Fi to the vet and he said she had a gallstone. He suggested removing it right away. It’ll only cost $1,500 sweetie.

"You know honey, Fi Fi has been such a good dog, but she’s how old? David asked.

She’s thirteen, replied Sara with a sniff.

That’s what I thought. She’s only got a year or so left. Forget the operation. Just take her home and give her some aspirin. Then when she gets, well you know, we’ll have her put to sleep. Got to go honey, just deal with it, explained David hanging up, who obviously never liked Fi Fi in the first place.

Les overhearing the conversation said, I see I’m not the only one with dog problems?

Not anymore, damn flea bag! responded David.

A few minutes later Ron turned on his boat’s Bose stereo system. He turned up his outside speakers full blast playing a Little Richard song, This will bring the big fish right to the top! They especially like the song Lucille. It always gets us a hook-up. Everyone laughed screaming along with the song.

The whole fishing crew was feeling really good getting into the music as the boat slowed down to an idol. The skipper told Ron they had reached their GPS coordinates in the Golden Triangle. Well, when Les heard this he started with the wise cracks. Ron instructed the mate, Get both electric reels. Let’s go down where the big snapper are hiding. Use the rigs with the six whole squid baits. That ought to get their attention. Oh, and hurry up before we disappear! After-all, we’re in the Golden Triangle, isn’t that right Les? He looked at Les smiling.

Shortly, the mate had the reels in their holders and was baiting up with squid, each larger than a CD. Les said to Ron, Man, I bet your bait bill is outrageous.

It runs about $1,000 a month. It cost $75,000 a year just to run this boat, explained Ron.

Sorry to hear your business has such a lousy cash flow problem. Maybe you should consider upgrading your organization by giving me a job. I could start by setting up your bait purchases in a Co-op with other fishermen that have the same dilemma, replied Les with a laugh.

You wouldn’t like working for me. You can already see the kind of abuse you’d be subjected to day after day? replied Ron smiling.

Yeah right, but it’s just the kind of abuse I believe I could handle, added Les.

The mate began dropping the baits down with the electric reels. The reason they had to use these was because of the depth of the water. If you used a conventional rod & reel you’d be reeling all day long. And besides, there’s not enough line on a standard reel to reach the fish.

The captain could see on the fish finder where the rocks were they needed to reach with their baits. A lot of people don’t realize when you’re in the ocean this far offshore the bottom just drops off. To give a further example, imagine the mountains anywhere or the Grand Canyon completely covered by water. That’s what’s going on under this location. The snapper and grouper they were after lived deep down inside the canyon walls in holes.

Once the squid is at the proper depth all you do is hold onto this small control box that has an up and down button. Then, concentrate on nothing but the tip end of the rod. When it barely moves you hit the up button as fast as you can and don’t be late. Because if you are, the fish will swim out of the rocks, grab the bait and swim back in and you’ll lose the whole rig, which cost about $50 each.

Two hours later they had several nice gag grouper. Les noticed every time they got a fish on board their eyes were popped out of their heads. He asked, Hey Ron, what’s going on with these fish eyeballs? He was holding up a large snapper with his eyeballs dangling down pouring scotch into his mouth.

Ron laughed saying, That won’t help him now! The fish we’re after are very deep. By the time we get them to the top on these fast reels the pressure has caused their eyes to pop out.

Oh, I thought it might be because they’re keeping their eyes out for us, remarked Les searching for a bit of fishing humor.

All right, time to rig up for the big boys! Ron yelled out. Let’s see if we can get a marlin hooked up, and then you’ll really see something.

Before long they were trolling a spread of seven lines. Now, all they had to do was eat, drink and relax until you hear those celebrated words, Fish on! Fish on! Then, quickly hop into the fight chair, strap in and hold on.

The rest of day went by fast and they had only raised two fish. But, they were not interested enough to take the baits. Before long, they were headed back to Bimini. The sunset was spectacular as they pulled into the dock. Ron’s boat was so big he had to dock it at the end of the dock. It wouldn’t fit in a normal docking space.

It wasn’t long before they discovered that being with Ron was like being with the celebrity. He was famous in the fishing world. He was in all the magazines. He’d won many of the big tournaments in past years. Nobody on board had any idea that he was so popular. But, it became quite obvious when everybody at the dock came over to greet him. Even the locals who lived on Bimini cheered his arrival. David sitting in the fight chair reading a magazine said, Hey, I just realized who’s on the cover of this Salt Water Sportsman. It’s Ron and the CATCH ‘EM ALL! Cool.

All right, way to go Ron! Les yelled out. Ed and Jeff laughed doing a high five.

That night they all went to the Bimini Big Game Club where Ron explained, This is supposed to be a welcoming party for all the anglers in the tournament. But, actually it’s the official registration for all the drunks in case the island sinks. The local police want to make sure they have accurate identifications of all participants. This way they can send out invoices after the catastrophe they are suspecting that could take place at any given moment. The resident environmentalist said he did a study from previous tournaments and actually reported the island was getting smaller. He stated in the Bimini News after last year’s tournament, and I quote, Bimini is shrinking mon. The extra weight of the rich people’s big boats is too much for our small subdued shoreline to handle. It eats away at the Bimini coast mon. We have to do something before it’s too late! If for nothing else, step in and save the island for our children mon."

Now, its screw the whales and seals, save the island!" Ron added with a smile.

Everyone looked at each other busting out laughing. Les replied, If that guy said that shit, as far as I’m concerned the crazy son-of-a-bitch falls in the same category as the Jamaican bobsled team! All laughed again.

They were seated at a big table and Ron ordered a round of drinks. They ordered and ate a variety of interesting dishes that were all delicious. They also became more intoxicated, so intoxicated in fact that Les went into the kitchen and told the chef and waitresses that it was Ron’s birthday. A few minutes later they brought out a cake with candles singing happy birthday. Everybody in the restaurant joined in. The interesting part, it wasn’t Ron’s birthday. But, to keep it from being an even more embarrassing situation Ron went along with it. He even smiled holding his glass up making a toast, And, here’s to the trophy Marlin I’ll be catching tomorrow! Everyone cheered.

After the two hour affair came to an end Ron asked for the check. The check was $2,180 for six people. Some man at the table next to them calmly reached over taking the check out of Ron’s hand saying, I’ll take care of it Ron, my pleasure. He was one of Ron’s biggest clients.

Les thought, where’s this dude when I’m paying for the pizza? At that time they all walked out heading to the Complete Angler Bar, which was Earnest Hemingway’s old favorite haunt and his museum was located there. This is where their serious partying would take place. Ron said, Hey Les, you won’t believe this, three weeks from now is my birthday. My wife Missy had it all planned out to celebrate my birthday here at Bimini. We can’t do it now because everyone thought tonight was my birthday. Everyone laughed.

Tim sang thick-tongued as he staggered along, Happy birthday to Ron, happy birthday to my pal Ronnie!

Man, shut the hell up, you’re drunk! Ron replied.

Look, I’ll admit I’ve consumed way past my allotment of beverages, I’m going back to the boat.

Ron said, Damn good idea, you’ve made me paranoid of hiccups anyway. But, be careful, we’ll be back in a little while, how about try not to burn it up.

Arriving at the bar they soon found out the place was wild. Everyone there was flat drunk. It was like a big convention for the DDA, Drunkest Drunkards in America. Men and women, all stumbling around trying to dance to steel drum rap music. Damn, how in the hell do you even hum to that shit? Les questioned. All laughed. It was a pathetic sight. But, who cared?

Finally, as tensions grew between fishermen about who would win the big tournament, Jeff and Ron got into an argument with some guy who was a complete obnoxious jerk. Les could see that it was just a matter of time before this situation would get out of hand. He went calmly over to the guy whispering, Island police, let’s take a walk outside sir.

Les walked him outside and was standing in the courtyard when the guy said, I don’t give a frigging crap who you are!

After the first punch the guy was pleasantly laid out in the shrubbery, he was out cold. You could barely see him. His Hawaiian shirt blended in so well with the tropical colorful plants. Knowing he’d be out for a while Les made his way back into the bar. Ron asked, Hey, where did you take that guy?

He’s sleeping it off in the flower bed, but I only hit him once, stated Les calmly.

Ron and Les walked outside and sure enough there he was, laid out cold. They came back in laughing. Ron said, Hell, I thought you were kidding me. Man, the son-of-a-bitch is down and out!

Well, I could see something not good was about to happen and my philosophy is when trouble is around, put them down! explained Les with a laugh.

An hour later they decided to head back to the boat. Ron said, Guess old Tim is catching some serious shut eye. He’s the only smart one in the bunch. He’ll be the only one that feels worth a damn tomorrow. Everyone agreed.

When they reached the boat the local police were there along with several fishermen from surrounding boats. Tim was in the fight chair and had a blanket wrapped around him. He was shivering. Ron asked, What the hell is going on?

A Bimini policeman said, Your friend mon, he started to step from the dock to the boat and missed the boat. He fell into ocean mon. The tide was going out and he just managed to grab a rope that was tied to the last dock post in the marina. He was lucky the people in the boat next to you happened to see him fall. They were his last hope separating him from the open ocean and the big sharks mon."

It was a good eight foot drop to the ocean from the dock. Everyone looked at each other in total surprise. Ed said, I think somebody’s trying to tell us something.

I believe you’re right. Let’s get him inside and try to get some sleep. We have an early day tomorrow and a tournament to fish, stated Ron. All hit the sack.

Bright and early the next morning the crew was working madly getting everything ready. All the rods were in their holders and the mate was preparing the baits. Ron’s skipper headed the CATCH ‘EM ALL toward the fishing grounds.

It was mid-afternoon when Ron hooked the marlin, which was enormous! He fought him for over an hour. You could see Ron had done this many times before. All of his moves were second nature. Everyone gathered around closely watching a true master at work. You could see the giant marlin breaking the surface, then running across the top of the water on his mighty tail. Unexpectedly, he turned heading straight toward the back of the boat, still on his tail. He just kept following the line as if he was going to jump into the boat. He was a good ten feet long and probably weighed well over a thousand pounds.

Well, who in their right mind was going to stand there and let Conan the freaking marlin leap inside the boat and do the fish mambo and Zoro stab with that long ice pick bill? Screw that! Everyone, including Ron’s own mate hauled ass into the cabin slamming the door shut. They watched through the window as the giant fish came right up to the back of the boat towering over Ron. Then, abruptly dove down sounding out of sight. Ron was still holding on, rod bent double in his hands. All he cared about was catching this fish. He knew he’d win the tournament and possibly set a new record if he could just hold on. Finally, the others came out of the cabin. Ron said, You bunch of chicken shits!

Call me what I am, it’s okay with me. And, if that son-of-a-bitch comes up again, I’m going back in the cabin. I don’t want to end up as a damn a fish kabob! replied Jeff. Everybody was laughing.

All of a sudden the marlin came out of the water jumping ten feet into the air. He was just a few yards off the stern of the boat. There was a loud snap! The fish was gone. Son-of-a-bitch, there goes the tournament! Ron yelled out along with several other choice expressions that need not be repeated.

That was it for the day. Ron yelled to the skipper to head back to Bimini. It had been a long hot day, but was almost profitable. Ron stood up with beer in hand saying, Shit happens! Anyway, it’s time to go back and get ready for more Bimini night life. There will be a wild party tonight at the Angler, you can count on that!

The CATCH ‘EM ALL pulled up to the end of the dock, the mate quickly tied up. Les said, I’m so glad to be out of that damn Golden Triangle and man do I need a shower. Just look at this, I’ve got squid shit on my leg!

Jeff said laughing, You are squid shit! All laughed.

An hour later everyone was all slicked up like a bunch of Myrtle Beach clam-diggers for the big night’s festivities. They went back to the Bimini Big Game Club and had another great meal for an additional two grand. After that they continued on to a steel drum bar for another night of serious partying. Tim was with them this time and was already so plastered he had his deck shoes on the wrong feet. No wonder every time he tried to dance he’d end up in a split. This guy was a damn wild man!

Around 2:00 a.m. they headed back to the boat. Tim got sidetracked by this island girl standing by a palm tree wearing what looked like a yellow prom dress. When Les saw her he quickly nicknamed her Canary. Tim dropped back laying on the heavy Casanova bullshit. The rest of the group continued on to the boat. Ron said, Oh God, what’s he going to do now?

It was not long before Tim showed up at the boat with Canary. Hell, Ron wouldn’t even let them inside the cabin, so they sat in the fight chair commencing on a heavy grub. Ron said, What a frigging sight to behold! Yeah, there he is, the president of my company in LA, an up-standing citizen, a pillar of the community and not to mention, family man. The perfect example of what a responsible human being should represent. If his wife could only see him now, she’d kill him! The whole group busted out laughing.

Astonishing enough in the morning Tim and Canary were both still in the fight chair passed out with their arms wrapped around each other. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but everyone in the surrounding boats couldn’t miss them. Other fishermen were headed out to fish the last day of the tournament. As they passed sounding their horns, there was Tim proudly displaying Canary, the queen of Bimini. Ron almost had a heart attack when he walked out on deck with his morning cup of coffee. What he told Tim next needs not to be said again. Just imagine the worst and then double it.

Ron’s crew had the boat ready and soon they were heading out to the fishing grounds. By now the whole fishing group was looking a bit rough. They were burned out from partying so hard they didn’t even want to fish. But, Ron was use to this body abuse and fished all day tagging and releasing several nice size marlins. Although, he didn’t win the tournament he placed second, which was certainly respectable among his fellow anglers.

Finally, they were on the way back to Hollywood. Just outside Miami they were stopped by a Coast Guard cutter. It pulled up beside them and one of the seamen yelled out, This is the US Coast Guard, shut your boat down, we are going to board you!

The Coast Guard cutter pulled up within inches of Ron’s boat and two seamen jumped on board. One had an automatic weapon, the other a sidearm. The ship backed off and there was another seaman behind a big 50 caliber machine gun, which was trained directly at them. The whole group was told to sit on the stern of the boat. There was now a seaman standing right in front of them holding an M-16. The other one disappeared below deck to conduct a complete search.

This incident was quite typical in this area. Because of all the drug trafficking going on daily, many boats get searched that are coming back from the islands. What their problem was, they had been partying for three straight days and looked like a bunch of drug running pirates. They all had scraggly beards and it was obvious they had distressing hangovers. Actually, they were probably stopped because of their cosmetic appearance alone.

Finally, the Coast Guard released them and they were back under way. It didn’t take long to get back to Ron’s house. Soon, the boat docked. Everyone thanked Ron for a most unforgettable experience. Then Les said, It was my pleasure getting to know you Tim, but I did find one thing extremely disappointing.

What’s that, the trip through the Golden Triangle? questioned Tim with a laugh.

Well, actually no. It was that I didn’t meet Canary before you did. But, I’m sure glad we got those pictures of the both of you naked in the fight chair. Man, they’re priceless! Can’t wait to get them on You Tube and into my scrapbook, Les replied with a laugh.

Yeah Les, I appreciate you bringing that up. I’ll see they also get emailed to his wife before he gets back home. Guess Tim won’t be on next year’s trip, added Ron with a big smile.

Son-of-a-bitch, I’ll kill all of you! Tim replied. Everyone laughed.

SOME PEOPLE JUST HAVE ALL THE LUCK

Ted Jones and Sandy McCloud were at work making plans to go fishing on Saturday. Friday night they watched a fishing video. After the video they decided to leave early the following morning for Blocker Lake. It had been in Ted’s family for many years. They were always doing a lot of logging there in the swamp. It never had to be stocked with fish because the Little Pee Dee River at high water overflowed into it. So, it just naturally kept restocking itself with quite a variety fish.

At 4:00 the next morning they were on their way to Blocker Lake. Behind the car faithfully on a rusty old trailer was Sandy’s boat. It had acquired its name in a very unique way. Sandy’s secretary was getting tired of being untruthful about where he was when people called his office asking, Where’s Sandy?

Finally, Sandy came up with a clever idea to deal with this problem. He named his boat, ASSIGNMENT. This way when she was asked where he was she could truthfully say, Oh, he’s out on Assignment. This usually ended the conversation until everyone found out the name of his boat and then they’d just laugh.

It was still dark when they arrived at Blocker Lake. Sandy backed the boat into the water, while Ted held onto the bow rope. Now, they were waiting for first light. As it started breaking day they pushed off from shore. Sandy told Ted he’d do the paddling. Ted’s thing wasn’t paddling. He was too busy smoking pot. As he took a deep hit he said, It’s going to be such a nice day, the fish will be friendly, I just know it.

You crazy fool! Sandy replied with a laugh. The fish will be friendly, uh-huh take another hit.

A couple of minutes later Sandy was slipping a cricket onto his hook. Then, he took his fishing pole and sling-shot his bait up beside a big cypress stump. Wham! The cork disappeared. He had a nice half pound stump-knocker. This was a good start, Sandy thought looking at Ted with a big smile. He was still hitting on his joint, hadn’t even touched his fishing pole. Sandy asked holding up his first catch, Check this out, are you going to fish at all?

Ted replied, What’s the hurry? They ain’t going anywhere. It’s a lake ain’t it? They can only swim around in circles. Sooner or later they’ll bump into my cricket, that’s if I decide to put one in the water. I like to make them suffer. Then, it will be uninterrupted action, wham, wham and wham!

Make them suffer? Wham, wham, wham! Shit, I’ll bet I catch five times as many fish as you, responded Sandy not believing a word of Ted’s crap.

Okay buddy, it’s a bet. But, what makes you think you can out fish me? questioned Ted.

Because you’re so stoned you’ll probably bait up holding onto the cricket and throw the damn pole into the water, replied Sandy with a laugh.

Screw you! We’ll see at the end of the day wise ass, replied Ted taking another hit smiling.

Wham! This time it was a big red breast. Sandy looked at Ted saying, Man, you better bait up, there won’t be any fish left. I’ll catch them all!

There’s no hurry, I don’t like to start fishing until the sun is up good. That’s when the real action begins. The fish I’ll be catching are waiting patiently for my cricket, you’ll see, replied Ted.

An hour later Ted finally picked up his pole, baited up and flipped it up against a submerged stump. Wham! He had a small catfish. Sandy snickered to himself. He was catching plenty of fish and they were all keepers. This is how the rest of the day progressed, Sandy pulling in a keeper every few minutes and Ted catching a small one every half hour.

Finally, the sun started dropping down below the trees. Sandy said, Man, just look at this place? It’s a damn spooky. Let’s hurry and get the hell out of here. I think there’s probably some kind of offspring creatures hanging around here. Besides, I’ve caught my share of fish. Look’s like I’m going win the bet with ease.

Don’t be so damn sure! I still have to try my secret spot, replied Ted with a sly smile.

What’s this secret spot bullshit? It’s over, you lose, pay up, Sandy said demanding his money.

Okay, but let me try one more time over there under that weeping willow tree on the way back, he said pointing toward the spot.

Like that’ll make a difference? responded Sandy with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

Sandy paddled over to the weeping willow and Ted plopped his cricket up under the limbs that were hanging over the water. Wham! The cork disappeared. Ted had a fish fighting like mad. The fish pulled the boat up under the willow tree. Suddenly he said, Hey, how about give me a hand?

Don’t tell me the fish is that damn big! replied Sandy.

Sorry to have to say it, but that’s just it. They’re all too big! replied Ted now laughing out of control.

What the hell is that suppose to mean? questioned Sandy with a puzzled look on his face.

Well look, check this out. Ted replied lifting up on his line.

What Sandy saw he could hardly believe? Ted had plopped his cricket up under the willow tree. When it hit the water and sank the cricket dropped through the wire of an old rusted fish trap. A big bream grabbed it swallowing it immediately. The trap was packed with fish. Some had been in it so long their noses were all scratched up from trying to get out. Sandy said not believing his eyes, Some people just have all the luck!

Ted said, Hey, we can talk later, help me lift my fish into the boat?

Shit, your fish? replied Sandy still not believing this whole situation.

They pulled the trap into the boat and Sandy paddled toward shore. It was almost dark and time to go home. Reaching shore they pulled the boat onto the trailer. Ted said, "Let’s get my fish out of the trap and count them as we put them