Some years ago at the Gut on MV during the day on an outgoing tide I was flyfishing for blues when this pilgrim in a rented Boston Whaler comes roaring up and anchors in the middle of the channel. Now this would have been a problem if I had been using conventional gear as I can easily cast across the gut but as I said I was flyfishing . . . still I thought at the time that was pretty rude for him to anchor like that in the middle. So I watch as he catches multiple bluefish, then suddenly he let loose with a yell and then I watched as he hurriedly upanchored and toar off towards Edgartown. Hours latter he reappears but now he sporting a large white bandage on his hand. "Hah!, serves him right" I thought as I got my gear together and headed back down the beach.
Several days of slow fishing followed before I and my fishing buddies found the blues again. Only problem was they were out aways, too far for the flyrod so we commenced to tease them in - pulling the old bait and switch on them once they were within fly rod range. I eventually got a nice double digit size blue in about a foot of water only a few feet from shore. Blues don't like it in shallow water and this one took off like a bat out of hell. But in due course I landed him and in appreciation of the fine fight he had given I decided to be extra gentle in removing the hook. Grabbed the hook with my right hand gave a twist and out came the hook, by now my index finger was pretty close to the fishes jaw. And old yellow eyes was looking, then with a quick snap he got the tip of my finger. "Oh s*** " I said as I tossed the blue back into the water. My fishing buddy Steve saw the whole thing and came up to me as I held my finger up by my shoulder, of course the blue had got some artery and I was shooting, with each heart beat, a crimson stream of blood three feet into the air. Steve looked at it and said, "Hey Bill want me to take you to the hospital and get that sewn up?" "Hell Steve, theres nothing left to sew up, let me see what I've got in the truck." Back at the truck I rummaged around, being careful not to point my finger into the cab, I wrapped the finger in a paper towel and then over wrapped it with some electrical tape. Good to go, except it was kinda hard to fly cast now right handed, "Good thing I taught myself how to cast left handed" I thought as I headed back to the surf.
Okay, maybe that wasn't very funny come to think of it. Took months for the finger tip to grow back.
Here is another, only this time it has nothing to do with fishing but has something to do with peppers.
Thoughts whilst shoveling snow a few weeks ago.
Remembered, as I was shoveling, a winter weekend several years ago when I was making a nice hot batch of Chili. I had gone to the super market and purchased the necessary ingredients including peppers; amongst the peppers I bought was a new variety, to me, called a Scotch Bonnet (aka Habannero) which I thought would make a nice addition to the Chili. I assembled the ingredients and began dicing the Scotch Bonnets, "Hmmm wonder how hot these things are" I thought as I popped a large piece into my mouth. The oils from the pepper slowly wrapped themselves around various nerve endings and then, all at once, detonated. Aiiiieeeee!!! I screamed as I ran to the faucet and ran water over my throbbing tongue, five minutes pass, then ten. Every time I removed my tongue from the running water the heat would return, twenty minutes latter things more or less returned to normal. Returning to the kitchen counter I carefully, as in hazardous material carefully, threw out the remaining hot peppers.
A few days latter, during a phone conversation, I told my friend Neil about my misadventure with the Habanneros - he thought it was pretty funny. The next day Neil was in his local supermarket and in the vegetable section came across a bin of Scotch Bonnets. Now, Neil is an impulsive sort of guy and remembering our conversation thought, "Hey these are the peppers that Bill was complaining about, wonder how hot they really are?" as he casually popped one into his mouth. A few moments latter Neil suffered his own incendiary explosion, he latter recounted to me what happened next. "All of a sudden my mouth was on fire, and I was running up and down the aisle trying to figure out how to calm things down. I went to the dairy section and tore open a large container of sour cream,I dipped out a bunch and shoveled, with my fingers, the sour cream into my mouth. People where looking at me a little askance, but I had other things on my mind and paid them no heed. Eventually the store manager came up to me and wanted to know what I was doing. Don't worry I said, as I licked the inside of the container, I'm going to pay for it."
Reaux