I got to thinking about falling in this morning. That is, taking an accidental dunking while fishing. This photo reminded me, being the time my good wife took a tumble as we fished a North Country trout river.
She saw me grab my camera as she was changing into dry clothes at streamside. Already annoyed at getting soaked, she was furious at the prospect of pictures. So she hid chastely behind the door of our truck to finish the job.
All of which reminds me of another falling-in yarn, this time while bass fishing in Florida.
Once in a great while, I or another staff member has to go fishing or hunting to schmooze with advertising clients. This particular trip was at Bienville Plantation in northwest Florida, a private-lake nirvana (think phosphate pits). Anyway, the prospective client was in the front of the bass boat, ahead of our guide--while I sat in the back--dutifully hoping the client would catch a big one.
Suddenly, I had a hard strike on a plastic worm, which yanked the rod out of my hand. As I watched the rod butt disappear in the water, I went over the transom and into the water after it. I surfaced with the rod in hand, still bucking with the fish attached. “Give me the rod!” our client hollered. So I did.
The guide, meanwhile, was horrified at one of his customers being overboard. Me, I was concerned about the alligators that I knew to be swimming in the same place. Anyway, the guide hauled me back in the boat, where I sat soaked and dripping on the rear deck.
The marketing guy in the meantime landed and released the bass. I just looked at him and smiled. “So, I hope to hell you buy an ad,” I said to him.
Eventually, he did just that. But even so, there are some adventures I could do without.
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