Well, then the fish gods must really be mad at me.
On my last outing I macrame'd the hell out of my sinking line after a spectcular (not) cast into the wind. While I was gathering the "yarn", my astute powers of observation told the less functional logic center of my brain that the wind was blowing my boat over my line. However, it failed to tell me that the trolling motor was still running. Well, the incident response cells in the lizard part of my brain kicked in and quickly declared an incident. I then reached to grab the line and lift it from underneath the corner of the boat before the trolling motor grabbed it. Apparently, turning off the motor was not in the incident response plan. Well, I was a moment too late and watched as the motor began silently retrieving the line. In the process, it pulled the leader through the fingers of my right hand and the hook into the tip of my right finger -- and then ripped it out. Not a big gash, but it sure bled like hell. After that, the logic center decided to turn the motor off with the non-bleeding fingers.
Long story short, I removed the trolling motor and was looking down at a bloody, tangled mess of line and motor. All this happened within the first five minutes on the water. I hadn't even opened a beer.
No pictures, thankfully, repairs were made, and fishing continued.
)
