The Red Drum is an amazing catch: the power of the first run as it pushes down into the grass, trying to trow the hook; the charge back towards the boat, trying to catch me by surprise; the second run, throwing its head side to side as it peels line off the reel; the slow retreave of line with a heavy drag, forcing it back to the boat; the sudden last ditch dive away from my hands; the heft of its body and the joy of victory. The ability to catch a Red Drum, proof that I will not starve.

My boat represents years of hard work and saving, countless hours of trial and failure, a lifetime of aquired nautical knowledge, and my personal pride. My boat represents my dreams and my freedom.

There is nothing like surfing. Nothing. It is such a part of me that I tattood it on my body; forever a part of me. The rush, the work, and the reward far exceed mundane life on land. Being in the water is lik being home, floating free and easy where each movement is sink or swim. Pesky lungs, I would trade them for gills.

Oh the simple scallop, that innocuous little filter feeder. For me the scallop reminds me that I am a Floridian, where a salty childhood comes with the territory. More than a salty childhood, being a Floridian means keeping one foot in the great outdoors and an eye on respecting the environment.

Jaques Cousteau (June 11, 1910 - June 25, 1997) is a life-long inspiration and hero of mine. When I was young I was dedicated member of the Cousteau Kids and followed the voyages of the Calypso with ferver and fascination. It was through Cousteau that I think I learned about the endless mystery of the world; that in a world where it seems that all of the possible lines of the map are drawn in and accounted for, there is—and always be— room for exploration and discovery on planet Earth.