Brett was the big winner. Me and my dad both caught NOTHING! NADA! ZIP! ZILCH! (Actually, my dad at least caught two fucked-up fish that just didn't count in the contest so he threw them back. I was the only one that didn't catch a god-damned thing. Bah.) Arrrrgh, matey! Better luck next time!
Oh, I forgot to mention - before we set out, each of the sixteen people on the boat threw in $10 towards a pool to be awared for two prizes: Half the money would go to the person catching the biggest fish (the "biggest" prize), the other half would go to the person who caught the most fish (the "most" prize). Got it? After four hours of fishing, my brother, having caught five fish was tied for the "most" prize with some other guy. Ten minutes before the captain was scheduled to call "lines up" and head back to shore, my brother (in the blue hat), hooked yet another fish which made him the winner of the "most" prize (with six fish caught).
And here's the kicker, the last fish he caught also ended up being the biggest fish of the day (that's his fish on the left beating out the 2nd biggest fish).
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).
Before we get on with the fishin', I should prolly give you a little background. You see, we come from a fishing family. That handsome devil up there is my dad's father, Hank Battjer. (Holding up what looks like a fresh-water muskellunge)