Gently-rocking waves and a hot midafternoon sun had nearly put me to sleep when my fishing rod bent sharply and began to quiver. This was no snag or hapless clam, both of which I’m accustomed to hooking on the bottom of the Mississippi River.
Instinctively, I jumped from my seat to simultaneously pull the rod out of its holder and to set the hook as my reel began to whine.
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