Ghost Series - Ghost Part 19

"If you do I'll tease you right back," Mike said, grinning. "I spent a lot of time in the body and fender shop. And the only thing to read was what the nurses had, which were veryverytrashy romances. Based on those . . ."

"Don't go there," Courtney said, leaning back and laughing. "I'll definitely stop teasing."

"Birds," Mike said, picking up the binoculars and focusing them in. "Yeah, they're feeding on a surface shoal." He put his feet down and touched the wheel, turning the boat to starboard slowly. Even with his care, the tuna tower still leaned to the side.

"Whoa!" Pam said, grasping the rail. "That's a little . . ."

"Exciting?" Mike asked, straightening out. "Courtney, think you can take the wheel?"

"Maybe," she said as he stood up.

"I'll back off on the speed," he said, throttling down. "It won't sway so much. You see those birds," he added, pointing.

"Yeah?"

"Steer for them," he said, picking up his beer and going to the ladder.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To get out the rods."

"I'm steering this boat," Courtney said nervously.

"I know," Pam replied just as nervously.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"I know," Pam said, trying to sound supportive. "Just . . . steer for the birds."

"They've moved," Courtney said, turning the wheel slightly. The boat turned, and she had to turn back and forth a couple of times to get lined up, the tuna tower swaying, to her, dangerously.

"You're doing great!" Mike yelled from the deck.

"He's . . ." Courtney said and stopped.

"Yeah," Pam replied. "Is it just me . . ."

"No," Courtney said. "And did you see thosepecs?"

"Yeah," Pam said. "And he said women aren't visual. G.o.d, what does he do, work out all day?"

"I know," Courtney said, steering a touch to port. "It was all I could do to not run my finger over them just to see if they were real."

"Oh, they're real, all right," Pam said. "And you know what gets me?"

"Not a single come-on," Courtney said. "He's not gay, I can tell that. But he's not . . ."

"I know. It's like he's waiting for us to make the first move."

"I know. It's weird. And that thing about . . . servicing targets."

"He's actually killed people," Pam said. "I mean, not just maybe. Has. No muss, no bragging, no bulls.h.i.+t."

"Which just makes it worse," Courtney admitted. "When he mentioned romance novels I just about wet my pants."

"You too?" Pam said, shaking her head. "He said he stocked up for female visitors. I wonder if there's a vibrator on board."

"You mean other than the seats?" Courtney said. "Besides, who needs a vibrator. I've just been crossing my legs and rocking!"

"Courtney, you are such a s.l.u.t," Pam said, closing her eyes and leaning back in the chair. "And he wants to gofis.h.i.+ng!"

Chapter Four.

"Courtney," Mike called. "You did great, but I've got it from down here. You want to come on down?"

"What's up?" Courtney asked, sliding down to the flying bridge and looking around. Two heavy rods had been rigged aft, and two more that she pegged as "regular" rods with normal reels were set to one side.

"There's a school of bait fish under the birds," Mike said, throttling down. "What I'm going to do is point the boat at them and let out the lines. When we go through we should hook on to whatever is feeding on them, probably dolphin. I've got to get you rigged, though."

He set the throttles to a fast cruise and led the two of them back to the aft.

"This is a fighting rig," he said, putting a harness on Courtney. "You won't really need it for dolphin, but it should help. You put the b.u.t.t of the rod in the holder on your stomach. What happens is that a fish will get hooked. You take the rod out of the holder, set the b.u.t.t in place and hit the drag. That should hook the fish for sure. These should be chicken tuna, little ones, and that rod is way oversized for them. But what we'll do is bring one up to the boat and let it stay on the line. That will bring others around. Then we'll fish for them with the lighter tackle."

"Okay," Courtney said, totally confused.

"I'll walk you through it when we hook on," Mike said, putting another harness on Pam. After he'd done that he let out the lines, already rigged with ballyhoo. He probably could have just used lures, but the hoo made it more likely they'd get a fish hooked and he wanted the girls to get some fish.

"Courtney, your rod," Mike said, pointing to starboard. "Pam, that's yours," he added, pointing to the port rod. "I'm going up to the bridge."

He'd set the autosteer to go past the bait pod, but he touched the controls and turned to port, coming around into the Stream to drag the lines past the edge of the pod. He could see the flash of hunting fish at the surface and even some leaping, dolphin for sure. The dolphin school was huge. This was going to be good.

"Mike! Mike!" Courtney suddenly yelled as the reel began to scream.

He went to reverse for a second to take the way off and turned around. "Pick up the rod and put the b.u.t.t in the holder," he called, calmly.

By the time Courtney had the rod in place he was next to her. The dolphin had stopped its initial run, and he leaned over and hit the drag just as Pam's line started to run. When the line went taut the dolphin shook hard against it and Courtney nearly dropped the rod.

"That's abigfis.h.!.+" she yelled happily.

"Not all that big," Mike said, smiling. "Just reel it in; that line's way strong enough," he said, going over to Pam.

Pam had gotten the rod in place without asking and was holding on tight when he hit the drag. She, too, grinned as she felt the fish on the end.

"Just reel them up to the boat," Mike said, going over to the bait well. He had a mess of sardines, most of them still alive, and he scooped out a big netful and tossed them over the side, live chum to bring the dolphin up to the boat. He could see some breaking away from the main school and heading over to the largesse, their bodies flas.h.i.+ng silver in the sunlight.

"Mike," Courtney said, holding her rod up. "It's nearly up to the boat."

"That's fine," Mike said, taking the rod and looking over the side. He reeled in a bit more and set the rod in a rocket launcher, the line tracking back and forth as the dolphin tried to escape. "The other dolphin will be attracted to it, since it's excited and they can't tell the difference between being on a line and feeding. So now we really fish."

He took one of the open-face rods and hooked a sardine on it by the tail.

"You ever cast before?" Mike asked.

"Yes," Courtney said, looking at the rod. "Nothing this big, but I can do it."

"Right out there," Mike said, pointing towards the bait pod. "When it's in the water, close the face and then hit this switch," he said, pointing to the trolling control. "That way when the fish hits it can run with the line at first. Give it three seconds, then flick the switch back and hangon," he added with a grin.

He went over and more or less repeated the performance with Pam, but he had hardly gotten to the stage of explaining the open-face reel when Courtney shrieked and he looked over to see the rod bending nearly in half.

"Nowthat'sfighting a fish," he yelled.

"What do I do?" Courtney asked as the dolphin tracked back and forth.

"Bow to the rod," Mike said, coming over and readjusting the drag. "When it gives you line, reel in.

When it runs, just let the drag handle it. It will tire out."

He went over and finished explaining the mysteries to Pam, then went back to Courtney, who was reeling in from time to time.

"I think it's tiring out," Courtney said. "I know I am."

"You can use the leaning board," Mike said. "But you're going to be doing this a lot. Keep your right arm straight and let your back pull. Bow to the fish, reel in as you do, then lean back and pull it in."

"That works," Courtney said, trying it. "I was trying to pull in with my arm. You say these are little fish?"

"Tiny," Mike said. "Maybe tomorrow we'll go after sailfish. I'd love to see you pull in a sail."

He headed back over to Pam who, having watched Courtney, was solidly pulling in her dolphin.

"Doing great," Mike said.

"You were right," Pam said. "This is fun."

"We were lucky," Mike replied. "You don't usually get this surface action. It's very fun when you do."

"Mike!" Courtney called. "What do I do now?"

"Bring it around to the transom," he said, pointing to the flush deck. He climbed down there, and when the fish came around he grabbed the leader and flipped it onto the boat, then up onto the fis.h.i.+ng deck.

"That's so pretty," Courtney said, shaking her head.

"They are," Mike said. "But they're awfully plentiful, too." He went forward and got out a digital camera.

"Want a picture?" he asked.

"How?" Courtney asked, looking at the flopping fish.

"Grab the leader, the line, down by its mouth," Mike said. "Wrap it around your hand-it's thick mono, it won't cut-and lift it up."

Courtney got it up in the air and grinned, cheesily, for the camera.

"Vacation pictures," Mike said, grabbing the fish and pulling the hook out. Then he grabbed it by the gill and tossed it in the cooler.

"I'll need to throw some ice in there soon," he said, rerigging Courtney's line, then climbing down to the flush deck to land Pam's fish.

He got ice, moved the boat, landed fish, took pictures, rerigged lines, untangled lines, baited lines, until thegirlsgot tired.

"I'm beat," Courtney said, rubbing her arm. "Can we quit soon?"

"Have to," Mike admitted. "There's a limit on dolphin and we're getting close to it."

"I'm done," Pam said. "But that was lots of fun."

"That's the punchline to a really old joke," Mike said, taking their rods. He took the rigs off, then took them forward to the rod locker and stowed them.

"What about these two?" Courtney asked.

"Just reel them over the side," Mike said. "We'll toss them in the cooler, too."

"What time is it?" Courtney asked, yawning as Mike spun the boat around and headed insh.o.r.e. "I'mbeat.

Did you slip something in my beer?" she asked, mock suspiciously.

"No," Mike said, smiling. "Being out on a small boat tends to wear you out at first. You get used to it after a couple of days."

"And I'mhungry," Pam said, coming up to the bridge with three beers.

"That we can a.s.suage," Mike said. "I can either cook or we can pull into Rumrunners."

"We were just there the other night," Pam said, smiling. "Remember?"

"Not that one," Mike said, shaking his head. "That's Rumrunners II. TheoriginalRumrunners is by itself on a small key; it was originally a speakeasy where the rumrunners actually brought in their loads. You can only get there by boat. Sometimes I sell my fish there. I think, in deference to you ladies and your fatigue and hunger, I'll just sell them whole. But I know the cook, and that means we can get his orange mahi for free, fresh from the fish we land."

"That sounds good," Pam said. "But I need to wash up."

"We'll go park at Rumrunners," Mike said. "I'll go d.i.c.ker for dinner and you two can wash up and get more beautiful, if that's possible. Then I'll wash up and we three can go to dinner. They also generally have a great band."

"I don't know if I can stayawaketo party," Courtney said, yawning again. "But . . . you're on."

"Hey, Louise," Mike said, walking in the back door of Rumrunners.

"Hey, Mike," the cook said, wiping his hands on his ap.r.o.n. "What you got?"