I remember Shoals Dock. My father and I used to go out fishing on a party boat owned by a guy named Cliff Stonear. I don't know why I remember his name but not the name of the boat. Perhaps I remembered him because of the mental image I got of what it must be like to actually have a stone ear. Regardless of the reason, I do remember the great days. Leaving home before the sun came up. Boarding the boat and departing around 5:30 am +/-.
We caught flounder, black bass and sea robins one day and blue fish and mackerel on another. Occasionally, when the blues were running a hit by a bonito or albacore would send me slamming into the rail.
The only down side from my days of Shoals dock was having to haul my dad's intoxicated body off the boat and into the car when he caught no fish but fished instead in the beer cooler.
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