�Explain it to me again, Harry,� said Diane, sipping her Diet Coke. �Where did you get this?� Diane was seated in the stern bench on the port side, leaning back against the small cabin with her feet on a pillow. Her windbreaker was flapping loudly in the breeze. The salty smell of the sea completely dominated the air.

Harry navigated between slower craft as he guided the 20-foot sailboat from San Diego Bay out the channel to the Pacific Ocean. He sipped on a Coke. It would have tasted better with rum, but he was enjoying the high he was getting by spending time with Diane. She was much better company than a glass filled with tinkling ice and intoxicating fluids. Since she demanded that he choose between them, he selected Diane. It was not easy to resist the siren song of the spirits, and he struggled with his decision daily.

�It belongs to a friend of mine. I�m just borrowing it for the weekend. I have poles and tackle, cedar plug lures, a gaff and a load of smelly bait. We�re going to liberate some yellowfin tuna, Dorado, or albacore from the frigid ocean today. I can just feel it.� Harry sat straight up on the starboard bench facing Diane, his left hand on the rudder, his eyes on the sea before him. He looked lean and healthy in his Levi�s and blue windbreaker. His rectangular Armani sunglasses gave him a model-sleek look. He looked relaxed and natural in his role as sea captain.

�What else don�t I know about you?� Diane asked, �When did you have time to learn how to sail and emancipate fish?�

�Well, we have this whole weekend for you to grill me. But right now let�s concentrate on finding some fish to grill. And, of course, the fish will have to be a priori. Have you sampled the uniquely Californian fish taco yet? Home-made are the best.�

Diane groaned. This was going to be a long fishing trip, but she was sure it would shape up to be the best vacation of her life.