Pulling Fish in Pompano Beach

Ok this series, let’s just say it turned out vastly different than I even I expected.
It all began innocently – the location? A low-key diner in Hillsboro Beach Florida, where the cash register has no LED display and the waitresses still wear sensible shoes, and reeks of the now cult-classic hair spray – Final Net.
Two of my wonderful friends, Steve and Laura Kennedy were encouraging me once again – Steve would intermittently suggest – “Hey, Katie – we gotta get you on the boat.” That meant fishing, I had never fished before. And – I feel a little guilty now – but I’d always thought: YUK. Fishing. Too hot, too slow, too smelly – yep – too stinky.
Camera pans forward about five months. I don’t know, I’m standing on a rickety-drift-wood-barnacle-ensconced dock in Pompano Beach, Florida about a half mile from my house and I’m talking to Captain Mike. The Captain Mike. He owns and operates a charter boat called The Sweet Emily. He’s mid-thirties, blond, blue eyed, kind of freckly and fun. But more than anything – trustworthy.
The two of us? We didn’t even haggle. After 20 minutes of Captain Mike explaining to me, and me pretending that I understood … we settled on a price and a date: December 13, 2007. Thursday morning. I would arrive at 7 a.m. with my crew; we’d be pulling out by 7:30. Game on. Fishing on?

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