I reach up and pull hand-over-hand, glide … lift, plant, pull hand-over-hand, then glide some more. Adjust for drift and wind then repeat: Plant the pushpole, lean back, then pull as the skiff silently slides down the mangrove shoreline while I search for fish in the passing sand holes, oyster beds and grass flats. It’s quiet, peaceful — almost hypnotic.
Then, my client drops his rod butt-first onto the deck of the boat and abruptly breaks the Zen of the moment, while also alerting every fish in the neighborhood of our presence. He makes a comment about his clumsiness. To add to his embarrassment, his fly line is now wrapped around the bow of the boat and trolling motor.
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