Fighting the Blues

No, not the those melodial somber songs of love lost favored by those of Southern ethnicity. BLUEFISH! The voracious, hard fighting, razor toothed, and absolutely TASTY bluefish. We caught 6 yesterday aboard the Miss Belmar Princess. Among the hundred or so other anglers crowding the decks that day, Khomenko and I managed to hook, fight, and land 3 hefty little suckers a piece averaging around 8-15 pounds. When we reached port we had two of them filleted and baked them at my friend Faith's house, the rest we took home for later consumption. It was a fun, and very sucessful day. So now I will give you a dramatic account of today's endavors, in the third person.

The sun had barely risen and sat perched proudly over the horizon as the early morning fog slowly crept back beneath the surface of the water. Deckhands hurried about their chores, the fishermen lingered on the docks, leaning against railings and loitering on the boat. 

As they pulled up alongside the transom of the Miss Belmar Princess, smiles widened across their eager faces. Chris and Dan had been planning this trip for weeks. And at last, they saw their plan unfolding before their eyes. 

The Miss Belmar Princess was an exceptional vessel, capable of holding over 150 anglers, who, when over the fishing grounds, crowded her railings eagerly in hopes of enticing a bite from the deep. 

A slip up in planning left Chris and Dan with 4 dollars between the two of them, momentarily dejected, they settled down on the foredeck and were horribly consumed with feelings of excitement and anticipation. Remarks were exchanged praising each other for each of their contributions to the planning which had placed them exactly where they were now, aboard a party boat, bound for the offshore fishing grounds, to tangle with the monsters of the deep blue.

Much time had passed before the boat finally left the marina and got underway. Rods were set up, and now all that stood between the two teenagers and their catch was 20 miles of Alantic Ocean, all of which passed by exceptionally slowly even at the great speed at which the Miss Belmar traveled. An hour had passed and the engine continued to churn and chug, and Chris wondered if the journey would ever end, or if the captain had become lost. Then, suddenly the engine grew quieter, the waves crashing off the bow dulled. Off the starboard bow the two boys saw the telltale specks on the horizon, where the rest of the fishing fleet was at anchor. 

At last, the hum of the engines groaned to a stop, and the boys found themselves surrounded on all sides by glistening blue water with the occasional fishing vessel not to far off. Reels were clicked open, and lures dropped into the water. 20 minutes passed, a few anglers to their left and right landed some substantially sized blues, including one directly left of Chris. 

An hour passed and their hopes were slashed. Sulking, and

wondering if there really were any bluefish in the Atlantic ocean, Chris walked over to the other side of the boat, and switched from the unproductive metal jig the deckhand tied on for him, to a large hook and chunk of baitfish. Another fishless half hour passed by. Leaning gloomily against the rail, Chris' mind wandered to thoughts of large fish and what the fight would be like when suddenly, the reel began spinning incredibly fast. Astonished, it took Chris a full 3 seconds to realize what was happening! "FISH ON!" he yelled at the top of his voice as he set the reel and reared back on the rod. A gallant battle ensued, and for 5 minutes the fish put up a ferocious fight before being gaffed and brought aboard by a deckhand. The smile which he began the day with returned to his face, and shortly after both boys began hooking into some large, very voracious, and very tasty, Fighting Blues.

Meh my writing feels a little bland up there. But I'm tired and too lazy to fix it. 

When Dan and I got off the boat yesterday we were completely caked in decaying fish matter. Turns out, party boats arent a lot like charter boats, where you go only with a private party. On party boats when the fish start to hit, lines get tangled, and you get covered in slim, scales, and blood. Pretty gruesome experience, although the big bluefish you catch certainly does make up for the mess. 

So tell me what you think about this blog on facebook. Like I said in my first post it is EXTREMELY weird writing all this crap that potentially nobody will enjoy or hate. Feedback would be nice but please if your house is on fire attend to that first. 

MEGAN BRANTLEY

-Chris

Sneaky Ninja Escapes/Bonfires at the Lake

So tonight I went to a bonfire this night (morning)



We know this awesome lake, with a sandy beach peninsula secluded in the woods off of 527. But the thing is, a lot of the people I go with have work during the day, and as a result when we have these bonfires at the lake they usually start around 12:30AM. At 16, I'm the youngest there. Shari, Vic, and Megan just graduated high school this year. Tasha, who lives a block from the lake, is gonna be a senior next year. Max and Oliver are already in college. Basically, what this translates to is that I'm the only one without a license. And as a soon to be junior with semi-strict Asian parents I usually have to be home by 12. So what do I do? I sneak out.

My father likes to stay up at night. He sits at his downstairs computer, directly below my room, and watches Asian news. The location of the computer pretty much makes any type of escape downstairs impossible, because the only flight of stairs in the house is completely exposed in plain view, and as long as Mr. Chong is at his computer, all the doors and windows downstairs might as well be at the end of rainbows. The only way out is out through a second floor window. And thats exactly where I get out.


You can see my surfboard hanging from my room ceiling!

Using the corner bricks of my house, I shimmy down back to earth, and scurry off to the waiting car around the corner. I've done this a number of times and I have to say, it is hands down the most exhilarating escape method I have ever used to sneak out of the house. Jibbles always tries to jump out of the open window, and I have to put him on top of my closet to slow him down enough so that I can close it while I'm outside. All in all its probably pretty crazy, but it works and by now I'm pretty good at it. Don't try it ever please.

So back to the bonfires. They're pretty awesome. The lake, the shoreline, and the woods and sand are all illuminated brightly by the full moon thats usually out. Its beautiful. The Peninsula is perfect for fires, rising 5 or 6 feet above the water line, all sand and a few small trees at some parts of the edges, and tapering softly at the sides to the waters edge. The frogs croak loudly, and a conniving little skunk lives in the woods nearby. The fires look especially awesome from out on the water. Once in awhile we'll strap my 12ft aluminum boat to Vic's Cherokee and go fishing, or on boat rides at night. When the fire is exceptionally big it shimmers on the water, and the light that pours out from the firey inferno illuminates the surrounding woods which are all duplicated in reflection on the surface of the lake. Its pretty hard to put into words how awesome it all looks.

Its funny. The whole affair reeks of this potent feeling of summer that just overrides every care you ever had before. And taking everything in, you can truely relax and feel at peace amidst the serene water, moonlit landscape, and star filled sky. Maybe I'm romanticizing a bit here but I'm just being honest. Theres this feeling that I cant seem to find a word for. That summer feeling. When you get out there and do things spring, fall, or winter you wouldnt. Its what I wait for every year. And this summers gonna be filled to the brim with it.

Well, its 4:40 AM and im going fishing on the Miss Belmar Princess with Dan Khomenko in 2 hours. Hope you enjoyed this post. Check back tomorrow for pictures of all the gigantic fish we catch. Happy Madagascar Independence day.

-Chris

Kitten Smuggling

So today as I sat on the beach in Belmar, regaling Dan Khomenko with stories of recent and past events in my life Dan suggested I start a blog. Now, I've had one of these things already, and let me tell you, Its really weird writing all this stuff about yourself that probably 2.6 people will read. Well, before I had a chance to put this off and never do it (as is my custom) Dan was gracious enough to create this account, and provide me with ample encouragement to help me get started.

"Hey Dan, guess who has my new shades."
"Who?"
"The Atlantic Ocean."

I'm pretty sure this is the dialog that started his proposal for me to start another blog.

After much self-debate I decided to buy some fresh shades from Eastern Lines. At $19.80 they were the most expensive sunglasses I have ever owned to date. I put them on and instantly, an overwhelming sense of being a (say "quote, unquote for desired literary effect) "G" filled me. About 15 minutes later I walked over to the surfing beach and caught a few waves. Right before I caught the second wave I put the shades on. The result was a ride so "G" feeling that I was instantly addicted to surfing with fresh shades on. Then on my 4th wave I stood a little forward on my board, the nose went under, and I was catapulted forward into the whitewash. My half an hour owned "G" shades were ripped off my face. In the darkness of my eyelids (my eyes were closed) I groped around the raging water and briefly touched the frame, which was then pulled away in a split second before I could grab it. Result: "G" feeling lost. Shades also lost. Dignity: Intact but severely damaged.

As I wearily placed my board back on the sand and proceeded to flop on a towel I told Dan this story. He bagan to recount the other few stories I had told him, and suggested I make a blog to archive all the interesting things I do/have done. And so this page was created.

So the first interesting thing I will tell you all (like what 3 people?) will be the story of my Kitten Jibbles (my, how bland and uninteresting. Not really read on this is pretty cool)



My now ex girlfriend had gotten a kitten. Now In my head I had already been toying with the idea of getting my own kitten, and when she got hers that idea became a desire. My mom however hates all animals. "Mom what do you think about getting a kitten? I mean, it poops in a litter box, doesnt make loud noises, and basically takes care of its self." "NOOOOOO, NO NO NO NO NO, I DON WAN SEE ANY ANIMARS IN DA HOUS. YOU BETTTTTTR NOT BLING ANIMAR INTO DA HOUS. ANIMAR!"

Un phased, I decided to get one anyway and deal with The consequences later. One thing I've learned, is that with my parents its better to do and deal with than to ask permission and never do. You see, if you ask them and they say no, then forget it, its out of the question. But if you just do it, and deal with whatever happens, then theres a pretty big chance you might actually get it.

So, like any other young person in need of something local I went to craiglist. No, not for a prostitute. After watching the posts for a number of days I found a listing with a picture of a few kittens, one of them an orange and white tabby. They were close by, and only 6 weeks old. The next day I called up the lady giving them away and set up a pick up date.

That Sunday, Shari Hewes and I left for Princeton. And after a very good time at the campus, and a very delicious sandwich, we drove to Burlington. The house was very small, with a big front and back yard and a gravel driveway. I knocked at the back door and a little girl came to the door. Before I could say anything, the woman I knew as Ingred from over the phone stepped into view. After a few moments of discussion Jibbles the kitten was in his specially designed cardboard box with a door and windows and a paper and pen sign that read "The Residency of Jibbles the Cat Est. 6/2/10" and on his way back to Manalapan.

Now the original plan called for my mother being at work by the time we got home. Allowing me to safely smuggle Jibbles up to my room where no one would see him. After texting her a question that would reveal her location: "Bring some sushi home from the restaurant" I learned that she was still in the house. Ever resourceful I shot back: "Go to food town please were out of ham." Shari and I waited in a nearby parking lot until we saw my mom leave.

I secretly kept Jibbles in my room for two days. Then my mom unlocked my door to put the laundry in. She saw Jibbles and Instantly fell in love. I mean just look at that cute face up there. How could you not?


So thats it I guess. My First Post. I hope I didnt bore you to death. I dont have the insurance to deal with that. More to come tomorrow when I might build a potato gun for Dan Mahoney or sneak out for a 12AM bonfire. Come Back and check out the blog!

-Chris