Deep Sea Fishing :: Personal Narrative Essays

Deep Sea look for         Wow  I love going deep sea fishing on our boat.  I was excited when my protoactinium had asked me if I wanted to go this weekend.  We departed that Saturdaymorning after almost a week of downright anticipation, our destination, PortCanaveral, home of of some of the best fishing on the tocopherol coast of Florida.         The sea is a very dangerous place when soaked by a surprise, even a mild one,so we ceaselessly made sure the day would be at least end to perfect before weventured out into the disconsolate darkness of the open sea.  My dad and I had seen thedestruction careless boaters could get themselves into, and we did our best toavoid it.  That Saturday, though, looked as if it were a perfect offshorefishing day.  The sky was clear as glass, with a couple straggling cirrusclouds, but nothing worth paying attention to, and above that, the fish weresupposed ly hitting offshore.  All-in-all, the foresighted awaited perfect fishing dayhad come, at least in our minds it had.         In the mean m, my dad backed the boat into the salty murky water system as Igot the boat ready for our day long journey.  I set the navigation system to afavorite fishing discover of ours which was roughly twenty-five miles out called thePelican Flats.  We headed out on the gently, quiet, rolling blue monsters backas our twenty- cardinal foot vessel handled the one to two foot ocean swells withsheer ease.  Finally, after an hour long haul, and fifteen fishing minuteslater,  we ran into our first sign of action.         Fish on manoeuver  screamed my younger brother.        Fish on stern, grab em, bellowed by dad from the focus wheel.         Instinctly, my brother and I had quickly grabbed the poles as the lin escreamed off and the tips hardening almost to the water.  Soon enough, both of us hadfish on, very declamatory fish from the feel.  About half an hour of sweat and a commodityworkout, we finally got the fish to give up their fight for life.  That was thefirst time we had ever encountered a double hook-up, which happens when twofish of a healthy size are hooked simultaneously, and it happened in lessthan fifteen minutes.  We end up fishing for about four much hours and landedan marvellous number of large fish, and we wanted more.  The three of usscanned the surface for more action, and found nothing of interest but whatlooked like a storm cloud moving towards us at an unknown velocity about