Dodging oil tankers, submarines, and cargo ships, as the sun rose, the crew made their way out way out to a decommissioned weather station a few miles off the coast of Virginia Beach. Among a frenzy of charter boats and private vessels filled with rods, reels, and empty coolers, we were skeptical if there were any fish below. Under a clear sky in 40 feet of water, Ashton, Ronnie, Willie, and I suited up and hopped in.
Swimming under the rusty, waterlogged, tower, we loaded our guns and dove into a frenzy of spade fish. Our struggle was not finding fish, but picking out the biggest ones. Hundreds of fish were swimming laps around the tower at about 20ft deep. We quickly loaded up the cooler and hit our limit but not before a siesta and downing some exquisite sandwiches made by Mr. Chaplin, Jimmy John himself.
Back on the dock, cleaning the boat seemed to take hours as thoughts of fish tacos raced through my mind. After a final rinse, we headed over to Mr. Boone's pier in Ocean View for some incredible costal comfort food. As the sun set over the James River, we watched a new parking lot form before our eyes.
Finally, tacos. With some help from a bit of sizzlin' butter and blackening seasoning the tacos were starting to take shape. Topped with diced cucumber, onion, jalapeño and lime among other ingredients, the tacos were complete.
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