Here's Skipper Jr. chilling on the *heh* poop deck. (Okay, I don't know if that's technically what the little back area's called, but I just wanted to say "poop deck.")
On the way back inland, I took Brett on a trip down "Torturous Big Brother Memory Lane" by waking him from his slumber with a long-range shot to the balls with the 25' gaff pole. Hehehehe.
With our proud angling lineage in mind, we puffed our chests, hoisted our hopes and cast our lines towards the sea (that's Capt. Mike in standing next to my brother).
