Today 8/11 I moseyed down to the Inlet per Codyms advice and picked up a few frozen shrimp to make things interesting. Turns out I didnt need the shrimp. Well I did because they caught me a few spots, croaker and I think puppy drum. But the interesting thing while fishing the rocks was when I put down the flyrod (yeah that did'nt produce a hit) to tend the spin rod my camera dropped out and went into the drink, suspended on a rock a foot under. Easy pick up, roll up my sleeves and reach in and Oh shist, there goes my keys, dropping down like a pinball machine. Easy enuff just gotta find them in the breakers. After 15 minutes of reaching into cracks and crevaces covered in sharp coral, numerous cuts and ended up wading in over my sack to reach down above my shoulders, I was able to get a finger on them and noodled them up from the depths. Boy if my old lady only knew how close we were from spending the last day of vacation getting keys made and dealing with taxis...see thats what happens when you buy bait.
Say no to bait!
Oh and to boot I learned that I had left her on the beach with a cooler full of Coronas and no church key. As I learned when texting if she needed anything when I was returning...What ever happened to the gals I used to know that could open a beer bottle with their teeth?
