Skunks and Mullets...Wahoo!

The 24 hour longline is over and I got skunked.

When we longline, the line is set at 2 pm and then checked every four hours by a five person team.  This results in a rather sleepless and anxious night as teams come and go and everyone tosses in their attempted sleep awaiting that elusive call from the checking team to say they've found a large tiger shark on the line.  In the event that a tiger is caught, everyone remaining at the lab piles into the boats to go check it out, swim around, and take pictures.  No tigers were caught during this longline and I didn't get to work up any other sharks because none were caught during my checks, although we did see a couple of massive eagle rays.  Finally, to top it off, Elena and I lost a team bet over which longlines would have the most sharks, and so on wednesday night (karaoke night) I'll be the classy dude at the bar in a full wetsuit, mask, and fins drinking beers through a snorkel...

The day was rescued slightly by the scene that unfolded before me later that afternoon.  Bimini Bay was holding a fishing tournament for Wahoo and, after taking numerous photos used for monitoring development in the north sound, Kristine, Steve, Emily, and I stopped at their marina to try and get the carcasses to use for shark bait.  What we found was one of the most bro-tastic and homoerotic displays of Americana i've ever witnessed.  About five high-tech fishing boats, each with more horsepower than a glue factory, were docked and unloading their catch for the tournament weigh-in.  It became clear right away that prerequisites for this crowd included a beer gut, neon slicker suspenders, and an affinity for ponytails and bad facial hair.  Furthermore, and this is saying a lot, I'm not sure i've ever heard the word "Bro" used more frequently than during the weigh in.  I was transfixed.  Feeling like Hunter S. Thompson at the narcotics convention, I watched as the personification of about a dozen American stereotypes hauled dozens of dead Wahoos the size of snowboards on to the docks, with the largest weighing in at 85 pounds and easily over six feet in length.  When the weighing was finished, the fishermen spent a solid half-hour lounging on manly white bean bags scattered across the boats and docks while drinking top-shelf liquor and listening to terrible remixes of already regrettable 90's dance hits.

We're doing something cool tomorrow but they haven't told us what yet...