I sipped my hot tea and stared at the inexpensive sonar bracketed to the stern. One hand was on the 12-volt tiller but I wasn’t touching a rod.
My partner had his line in the water, a jig with a 2-inch bio-plastic minnow. My favorite light jigging rod was lying untouched in the boat’s corner because I wasn’t feeling it yet. Neither, I thought, were the crappies.
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