I am not much of fisherman. In fact, I am not a fisherman at all. Considering I live in Florida, one of the fishing capitals of the world, I am suitably scorned by my fellow Floridians. First of all, I am prone to get seasick. Put me in a drifting boat swaying vigorously in 3-foot swells and toss in the aroma of fish bait and, yep, you will find me hanging over the rail in no time. Meanwhile both my wife and especially my son would go fishing 24/7 if they could.
Occasionally, I will go with them when they go fishing from the shoreline or dock. I still won’t fish myself. I’ll take a chair and something to read and otherwise occupy myself by asking every ten minutes if it’s time to go home yet. I must be a bit of a nuisance since most times Rosemarie will let me off the hook (pun intended) and not insist I go. Last night, however, in a moment of temporary insanity, I agreed to join the party. It was a last-minute excursion that no one had planned for but the evening weather was good and the promise of a nice sunset lured me in (another pun intended).
Our destination was the S.S. Jolley Bridge, so named for Seward Stokley Jolley, the honorable Collier County judge who warmed the bench through the 1940’s and 50’s. I am told we will fish from under the bridge where the prospects are good. Now, despite its gleeful name, this is a credible bridge that spans the Florida mainland near Naples over to Marco Island on the state’s southwest shoreline. That’s Rosemarie waiting for the big one under the Jolley Bridge.
I’ll be kind and not turn this posting into a long, dragged out fishing story other than to say our trip was cut short by hunger. Rosemarie caught a footlong snook that was too small to legally keep but long enough for a Subway Footlong, I thought. My son, meanwhile, snarled his line in the rocks and I was blocked from getting a nice sunset picture by a not-so-quaint Marco Island Marina.
The fun part–or should I say the Jolley part–of our abbreviated fishing trip was that I got a few pictures of the nice March weather we’ve been having. These I will hastily send to my niece. She’s sitting at home in Denver…in a blizzard.