“Yep, my nose is still there. Good to know.”
“Dive! Dive!!”
“Sweet son of a goat-lickin’ whore!!!!!!!”
The heavens rumbled, the hail fell and then, when it had all passed, one idiot went down the Hill O’ Death this afternoon and got all up in Penn Cove’s face for the 125th day this year.
Surprisingly, no one else joined me. I will never understand why…
Anyway, back to me in my swimsuit and dive gloves (wet suits are for tourists and fancy lads).
Even with the hail on the ground, I can’t really say Penn Cove was all that colder than normal. Well, sure, it wasn’t warm. But if it was, I’d get sort of suspicious the guys on the mussel rafts were peeing in the water again, and no one wants to see (or taste) that.
Coupeville Sports 
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