Maybe it wasn't a whale or a 400-pound halibut, but call me Ishmael anyways, because we went fishing and I caught a fish! In celebration of Kip's parents coming up to visit us (they live in Seattle), the four of us made like the Disciples and went fishing. Despite having a cold (thanks, tourist who coughed into your money before giving it to me), we had a great time cracking jokes about being "fishers of men" and hanging out with Kip, his parents, Captain Kevin, and the deckhand, John.
The four of us with our catches of the day. Mine isn't turned right, but it's a minor miracle that I picked it up again at all (see two pictures down).
Reeling in a fish was a lot harder than I thought it would be! I was okay with the reeling part, but Kip had to help me out with pulling the rod (without dislodging the fish).
I like to think I'm a pretty hearty gal, but holding up a bloody fish by its gills was a bit too much for me to handle. I was disgusted when this picture was taken. Captain Kevin found it quite amusing, considering I was talking smack all day about catching a fish.
When the fish weren't biting, I put on the "derby hat" and did a fish dance to lure them in.
It didn't work.
That old Seadog...
Aww, father-son bonding.
Kip was excited to hit the fish over the head with the club. Captain Kevin and John decided they never wanted to be pulled over by Ofc. Cheshire, especially after he told the fish, "stop resisting!"