Doom despair and agony on me, deep dark depression and endless misery!

I unloaded yesterday to fish a small weekly jackpot with a few friends, a little windy (ok, there were two foot running swells.)

It’s a very informal affair, a lot of kidding around and pranks. 20 bucks to enter, two fish limit, fish till darkthirty and have a cup of coffee afterwards while telling tall tales of the 13 inch fish that gained eight inches and three pounds in the interval between getting lost at the boat and the coffee.

As usual, I was fishing alone, last one out of the cove, no big hurry. Turned uplake headed toward one of my favorite productive holes. Isn’t very far, less than ten minutes, twelve tops when it’s rough.

About three minutes into the run I noticed the RPM dropping slowly. From 5500 to 52, to 5, to 4500.

I turned around, this ain’t right. Since I work in the Marine Biz I made a quick guess it was a powerpack failure. Until the thing knocked a couple of times and quit. Got my butt wet from the backwash as she squatted in.

To make short of long, No 5 hole, zero compression. Pulled head, no rebuild for this one, cylinder's trashed. Gonna have to have a block, most likely a crank and absolutely a rod. All new pistons, ETC.

Best price, used, after rebuild 2500 bucks.

And, as usual, I’m so broke I can’t pay attention.

So, I get to walk the bank and fish no boater for a while. Wife has this idea that some things are more important than a boat. Like Mortgage payments, running water, electricity. You know, silly stuff.

Life is patently unfair, you know?

(Yeah I know, no one ever said it was)