Fishing with Uncle John and my father just of Shwinburne Island in the lower part of the NY harbor. We came to what looked like a good spot. Uncle John climbed through the hatch to through out the anchor. For whatever reason, he went in with the anchor. You should have seen the look on my fathers face as he climbed to the bow. Uncle John popped up, laughing, eyeglasses still on his head. Fair winds Uncle John.
