PELICANS AND GULLS SAY...

"Good Morning America"

...as dawn breaks over the harbor at Ft. Pierce, FL and the crew readies the Ft. Pierce Lady (top) for her morning's fishing on the Atlantic.  Captain Wayne Bushnell (left) handles radio chores as the 70 foot vessel slides out the causeway.

The aging, wood-hulled vessel served many years as a ferry in Maryland before her conversion to a fishing boat 6 years ago.  The captain had a crew of two to help with ship handling duties and, most importantly, to help with the 28 or so fishermen and ladies in pursuit of their whopper for the day.

Whopper in the sense of a very large fish, or, more likely, a fishing tale of similar proportions; my good friend Dick Weeks and I among them. 

The sea buoy about 6 miles out was reporting just 3 foot waves with a 7 second period that morning.  "Small waves with 7 seconds between crests should make for a nice ride this morning," Capt. Bushnell assured us.  A fisherman is lost in his thoughts (left) as the vessel's rumbling pair of diesel engines churns the sea into a whipped-cream froth on its way to our first stop some 10 to 12 miles out, northeast of the harbor.

It took about 20 minutes to clear the harbor and an hour to reach a piece of the reef out there where soon we were fishing with stout poles and 6 ounce sinkers presenting our cut bait hooks to a potential population of fish about 80 feet below, most with names I had never, ever even heard.

With line the thickness of toothpicks and stretched down about as far as some Ohio ponds I fish are wide, I was amazed to be able to feel a fish when it hit my terminal tackle.  "Those sea bass are very aggressive," a crewman told me.

The hair on my arm stood up when a 6 to 7 foot hammerhead shark swam slowly past our lines, its triangular shaped dorsal fin gleaming in the sunlight.  It seemed to be reminding us we were not necessarily welcome creatures in its territory.

These boats carry the unflattering name "head boats".  That's because fishermen and ladies line the rails around the deck, shoulder to shoulder and, amazingly, rarely tangle their lines in pursuit of their dream fish.

That's a sea bass in the bottom photo being enjoyed by the 11 year old Wisconsin lad who had just reeled it aboard...just like the half dozen or so like it I had caught during our 2 hours on the fishing grounds.

As you can see it is nearly 3 feet long.

Did I mention whoppers earlier.  That's mine.

These scrappers ranged about 10 to 12 inches and all were tossed back because they were not in season.