Unexpected Horizons

Essay by Anonymous UserUniversity, Bachelor'sA+, April 1997

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Wow! I love going deep sea fishing on our boat. I was excited when my dad had

asked me if I wanted to go this weekend. We departed that Saturday morning after almost

a week of sheer anticipation, our destination, Port Canaveral, home of of some of the best

fishing on the east coast of Florida.

The sea is a very dangerous place when riled by a storm, even a mild one, so we

always made sure the day would be at least close to perfect before we ventured out into

the blue darkness of the open sea. My dad and I had seen the destruction careless boaters

could get themselves into, and we did our best to avoid it. That Saturday, though, looked

as if it were a perfect offshore fishing day. The sky was clear as glass, with a couple

straggling cirrus clouds, but nothing worth paying attention to, and above that, the fish

were supposedly hitting offshore.

All-in-all, the long awaited perfect fishing day had

come, at least in our minds it had.

In the meantime, my dad backed the boat into the salty murky water as I got the

boat ready for our day long journey. I set the navigation system to a favorite fishing spot

of ours which was about twenty-five miles out called the Pelican Flats. We headed out on

the gently, quiet, rolling blue monster's back as our twenty-two foot vessel handled the

one to two foot ocean swells with sheer ease. Finally, after an hour long haul, and fifteen

fishing minutes later, we ran into our first sign of action.

'Fish on starboard!!' screamed my younger brother.

'Fish on stern, grab 'em!', bellowed by dad from the steering wheel.

Instinctly, my brother and I had quickly grabbed the poles as the...