Came home from work last night and said to myself, “I sure feel like fresh bluefish for supper.” Grabbed my stuff, went about 90 seconds to Megansett Harbor, hiked out on the breakwater a ways, clipped on one of those plastic poppers with rattly thingies inside, and, presto, a couple of casts later, brought in a nice 8 pound bluefish. Mission accomplished. At times like this, all that remains is to take a picture for posterity.

Back in the Skunk Report lab, I set up my vintage camera on the tripod, only to find that the batteries were dead, and there were no good batteries in the house. So I put the old thinking cap on and duct-taped a camera phone on the tripod and spent the next 20 minutes working on a way to click the shutter, and then run around into the picture while holding the bluefish. I am pretty fast afoot, but I never quite made it into the picture. It must have been the vintage waders that slowed me down.

My fish was beginning to stiffen up by now, so I said, “Screw it,” and brought the catch into the Skunk Report Gourmet Seafood Preparation area and snapped the shot there.

Wait, you say, that is just some photo you filched from the Internet. I am offended. Here is proof that the Skunkmeister was there:

The manly hands of the Skunkmeister make the fish look smaller than it really was, plus there was the reverse perspective. You know, when you are holding a fish up in front of you for a photo, you can hold the fish out towards the camera and make your 2 pounder look like a 20 pounder. Well, this picture makes the eight pound bluefish look like one of those cute little trout that you catch in those cute little streams up north. In a pinch, you can lay your cute little fish on a dessert plate and make it look big, but the Skunkmeister is not about stretching the truth to look good. Looking good comes naturally here.

Wait, you say, I though this web site is all about losing fish, not catching them.

What can I say. It was an accident. It won’t happen again.