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Fishing No Rose Garden (Part 2 of 3)

by Roger Vaughan Sal finished his cod fish, looked at his watch. He had 30 minutes to the next haul-back. That was the trouble with meals. They cut into sleep time. He climbed back into his bunk, pulled the sleeping bag over his head, found it was possible to lie on his hip and brace sideways with his knees. His fa-

ther must have turned the boat slightly as they neared the end of the three-hour run. The seas were quartering. The roll was worse, but the drops weren’t so bad. With a f lash of disgust, Sal felt the hot meal slosh in his stomach as the boat rolled through 60 degrees. Sal thought about the pilot