We talked as though we were strangers, side by side on the deck of a boat near Jeffrey’s Ledge on a summer Sunday; but the subject was familiar. We pulled in flashy mackerel, apricot squid, tossed them back. We hauled up dogfish; we caught the same ones over and over. They were heavy as waterlogged boots. And stubborn. Gaff. Pliers. Knife. It was a struggle. Finally he showed me: Pin it with your foot. Grab the snout and break it backwards. Dump the dogfish overboard. Watch. It spun like a wild compass needle, thrashed in sinking circles.
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