There were a couple of bays on the east shore where the water was well protected. As long as the wind was blowing from the east, the water there would be virtually smooth. They took their raincoats, however, just in case. His father’s guess was right about the conditions, as he and Joey discovered when they arrived there. It was about ten past six. The air was warm, the sky a mass of slow-moving gray clouds that seemed to be working up into a giant lather. “It looks as if we’re going to have a storm, Dad,” observed Joey, casting out his line. It whirred loudly as it spun off the reel. “It’s hard to tell,” said his father. “Maybe it will blow away and not touch us.” Fifteen minutes later, Joey felt a tug on his line, yanked the rod, knew he had something, and started to reel it in. “Got one, Dad!” he said. “Good boy.” He soon hauled in a jackperch.
