10 Pound Island, as Told by Peter Donahue

It was a dark and stormy night. 

The crew abandoned me.

Cal and Chris ran from the rain to edit the movie they shot this summer.

Walshie went off on her eating safari to the Vineyard.

Laurent ran all the lines on the boat rather skillfully and I drove in a downpour.  We all had our suits on.  Better than football.

The water was 61 degrees.  The visibility was 6″ to 5′.  The boat was anchored in 20 feet behind 10 Pound Island.

As we jumped in, Bill Low saw a squid in about 18 feet of water. 

I saw flounders exploding off the bottom in a cloud of dusty silt when we came near, not even knowing they were there until they bolted.  I saw lobsters on the mud huddled under kelp fronds that were constantly moving – frond and lobster together.  There were also stands of green fleece alga in the shallows and beds of orange sheath tunicate on abandoned lobster pots.  There were lots of abandoned pots.

Found a fisherman’s knife with an orange handle, buried to the hilt in the mud, just the handle exposed.  I pulled it out, looked at it, and returned it to the mud.  (Later, at the dock, I saw the same knife on deck.  Laurent had found it and kept it.)

We came to the surface and saw raindrops landing in the ocean from the underside of the interface. 

The only boat we saw was the Coast Guard Zodiac on a call, blue lights flashing.

Didn’t catch a single legal lobster although I gauged several shorts and let them go.  Didn’t see any monster eggers.

The cookout tomorrow will just have to be more hamburgs and hotdogs.

Although Shaw’s IS open until 11.

Hum-m-m-m.

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