My wife likes me to call her First Mate, even though she was the second. With that reasoning, since I was her second, maybe she should call me Second Lieutenant, but that doesn’t sound as good as Cap’n Greg, so First Mate it is.

One of the things Cap’n Greg likes about Rocky Point is fishing. While he isn’t very good at it, he has a high level of enthusiasm, combined with low expectations, so every time the boat hits the water, it is enjoyable. The First Mate has fun, too.

After launching at Pompano’s, we motored past the high rises on Sandy Beach. I rounded Pelican Point, shut down the engine a mile or so out, and let the breeze carry us on a very nice drift toward Baja California.
FIRST MATE: Did you bring the suntan lotion?
CAP’N GREG: I thought you got it.
FIRST MATE: No, I made the sandwiches. Lotion was your job.
CAP’N GREG: But I remembered to ice down the beer.
FIRST MATE: Did you put in a couple Diet Cokes?
CAP’N GREG: There wasn’t room after I added the little bottles of champagne you like so much.
FIRST MATE: You brought champagne?
CAP’N GREG: Only for you, my princess. Celebrating another year of marital bliss.
FIRST MATE: Our anniversary was last week.
FIRST MATE: Okay. Crack one open for me. This could be a very long day.
CAP’N GREG: Shall I bait your hook with a bit of squid, my love?
FIRST MATE: Please do. I don’t think my stinky squid fingers would go well with the bubbly.
CAP’N GREG: Anything else?
FIRST MATE: Just be quiet and let me listen to the water lapping against the boat.
CAP’N GREG: Your wish is my comman…
FIRST MATE: My wish is for you to be quiet.

FIRST MATE: Ahhhhhh.