(This is a rather legnthy entry. For photo documentaion of our antics, check the link to the online photo albums.)
Sunday morning started off like any other day. The alarm sounded off at about 0600 hours and after a few expletives I managed to get up and make my way to the shower for what would be my last shower for the next 3 days.
Cody arrived a little before 0700. I said my goodbyes to Delia and we hopped in the car to pick Dean. Once Dean was accounted for we headed for Starbucks. After all, what road trip would be complete without a stop at the coffee shop for a little pick-me-up.
Once at Iver’s, the crowd started to gather. Here is the passenger manifest: 1 – Me. 2 – Cody. 3 – Dean (a friend from work, not to be confused with the Dean normally mentioned). 4 – Dean (the Dean normally mentioned in this blog). 5 – Iver. 6 – Eric. 7 – Butch (the same Butch who performed our wedding). 8 – Todd. 9 – Mike. 10 – Bill. 11 – Ken. 12 – Bobby. Once we were all packed into 3 vehicles we headed north for Newport, Oregon.
Now I will say this, when you get a bunch of grown men together for a trip like this, it seems the average age of every one seems to be about 14. All of us have jobs, all of have families and other responsibilities, but for some reason when all of those things get left behind for a few days the maturity level seems to go way down. For example, I heard a rumor that one vehicle passenger managed to moon the passengers of another vehicle. I can neither confirm nor deny this rumor. It is simply that, a rumor. I will also report this: when in a foreign city, the 2-dollar crack whore at the Burger King is easy to spot. And apparently she, being a trained observer of the public, recognized a 12-man group from out of town and intent on having a good time. Unfortunately for her, so I hear, our version of a good time was a little different from hers. But I hear she made a good attempt at getting in good the guys. Again, this can neither be confirmed nor denied. Its simply one of the rumors you hear so much about.
We arrived in Newport at about 1800 hours. With 3 hours to kill before we could even get on the boat we all split up for a while. Some went off to the bar to drink for 3 hours. A few others and myself went to the movies and saw Tropic Thunder. In retrospect, a hangover from the three hours of drinking would have been preferable to the torture that was just another Ben Stiller movie. Oh well, you live and learn.
We got on the boat about 2130 hours, and received our safety briefing from the captain and crew. While doing this we were smack dab in the middle of a thunderstorm. Lightning and thunder were everywhere, so loud in fact that we could not even hear the captain at times. Safety briefing over, we got under way. The seas were a little rough, and playing cards proved difficult at the table because the stack kept sliding everywhere.
Around midnight we went off to bed. The bed space was crowded and, and I had about 1 and a half feet between my mattress and the ceiling above me. I managed ok for the night, and fell asleep fairly quickly. Cody did not fair so well. When I awoke to use the head I found a nasty smelling trash can near his bed. Apparently, however, Cody was not the only victim to the turbulent swells, as Bobby also managed to loose whatever contents were in his stomach as well.
But we all lived through the experience and by 0600 the next morning we were trolling for Tuna. With recent reports of the Tuna catch being fairly slim, we were going early and hoping for a solid day. I was out of bed at 0630 and there were already fish in the box. As the day wore on, the ocean was fairly flat and weather was decent, and slowly we turned the official count to 69 fish (for those of you with dirty minds, this was not a plan. We actually thought we had 72 on board, but miscounted). There was a lot of trash talking, there were a few naps taken here and there, but the general idea of fishing took precedent over anything else. And what manners there were on deck. Many times the reel would spin fast as the fish struck and the closet guy would grab on and start looking for someone who hadn’t reeled in a fish recently. I will say, however, that is about as far as the manners went.
Sometime in the late afternoon, I was napping; a piece of driftwood was found with 3 sharks swimming around it. They landed one, but in the end let it go. But at least we can say we caught shark.
In the end, we ate a lot of food. A lot of drinks, those friendly to all ages and those of the adult variety, were consumed. The deck was covered in blood on numerous occasions, and the fish boxes were full.
We came back to port sometime around 0300 hours and the captain was waking us up at 0600. We set of for the pier, paid an astronomical fee for people to clean our fish for us, and packed our bags. We were sent to Shirley’s for breakfast, one of the most fantastic meals I have ever had, and made our way home.
Funny thing about a bunch of men who have had their fun and are now facing a long trip home, the average age seems to now be around 72. Such is life as we prepare to make our way home. That’s not to say the hijinks were over. We still managed to make Butch shake his head in awe of our actions at least one more time. What happened is purely a rumor, and I wouldn’t think to spread such libel over the internet.
Thanks everyone for making it a great trip.
And thanks for tuning in.