Reinventing Mike Lake by R.W. Jones

Tommy got into the spiel he’s probably told a million times.  He told the adults they can wear a life-jacket if they want, but don’t have to, but all the children are required by law to do so.  He also introduced us to Bob, a man with long black hair and wearing a tie-dyed long sleeved shirt, and Casper, the boat’s captain.  All told there were about 15 of us on the party boat that morning.
                  When we had been cruising for about 20 minutes, Tommy began to set up the fishing rods, and started talking to the party.
                  “We haven’t caught too many record-breakers out here, but other boats in the dock have.  Now here’s the rule about that – in order for the fish to be considered a record-breaker you have to catch the fish by yourself.  For nearly everyone on the boat, and especially the children, that will be hard, but, if you think you have a huge one and want to try to be a record-breaker, you have to do it yourself.  If me or Bob here helps you drag her in we can still take a picture and get it cooked up for you, but sadly, your name won’t make it in the newspaper.  Anyway, let’s fish!”
                  There wouldn’t be any record-breakers that day, but everyone on board seemed to have a lot of fun.  Some of the parents and I spoke lightly between bites about how our vacations were going, our professions, and the like, but for the most part I was left alone.  After reeling up a grouper that I was happy about, Tommy brought me back down to earth.
                  “Nice catch, but every Johnny and Jane on this boat could have brought that guy up unassisted,” while laughing at his own joke and giving me a hearty pat on the back.  I laughed, and asked him how long he’s been working on this boat.
                  “This boat particular, just a couple of months, but I’ve worked on all kinds of boats around the country.”
                  “Are you like a party boat master – work for hire type deal?” I asked, also laughing at my own joke.
                  “Not quite like that.  I have my own boat, and I like to just float around mostly wherever it takes me.  Only sometimes if I float around too much I run out of food so I have to come back ashore to make money so I can do it all over again.  No wife or kids, I have a few lady friends on shore here and there, but this is the life I want and wouldn’t want it any other way.”
                  A man I can relate to, I thought.  Only problem was he was living it, and I was just stopping in for a visit.  When I was deep into my reading of adventure stories while I was trying to get out of my funk, boating stories were always some of my favorite to read.
                  “Have you written about any of your adventures”?  I asked, wondering if I had read anything he had written.
                  “I have a journal that I think about trying to get published at some point, is about it.  Say, how are you enjoying your stay here?  I’ve seen you sitting up on that dock a few times.  I’m guessing you aren’t a tourist, cause most tourists don’t spend their time spying on boats from the dock,” laughing again.
                  After I assured him I wasn’t spying him, or anyone on the boat, and instead just passing time, I told him, “I guess I’m doing something similar to you, only in a car.  Just driving around and checking out parts of the country I’ve never seen before, with my dog.  I’ve liked it here so much I haven’t been in a hurry to leave.”
                  Between Tommy helping the other patrons drag fish up on to the deck, and talking to me, I explained to him that my wife died, and that I was a writer, though lately I haven’t been much of a writer and that a lot of my hanging out at the piers was just my attempt at trying to break up the