Today we hear a story from Jeff Cullers how not to go on a fishing trip off the coast of North Carolina. We had fished between the Outer Banks and the Inland Coast there of North Carolina. We had gone out and my uncle Bill, who was always the crazy one in the family, we go out and there's kids, we get out there and we're fishing and a storm comes up. We're like, all right, we got to get back in. You know, we're several miles away from any land that we can get to, and the waves are getting bigger and bigger. We're in six foot waves. We got terminal tackle going everywhere. We got hooks flying. And my uncle had taken the life jackets out of the boat to make room for another cooler of beer. So nobody has life jackets. I mean, I swear I don't know how we didn't die as kids with some of the stuff that we did. On top of that, he had misread the compass coming back in, and so we're going in completely the wrong direction. We're running out of gas. We're in six foot swells. My uncle's like, well, I'm going to have to call the Coast Guard, and the Coast Guard comes and pulls us in. Of course, now he gets a ticket because there's not enough life jackets on the boat for everybody. And so we finally get pulled into this small Hoboken town in North Carolina. The Marina had this motel with cinderblock rooms. It really looked like a prison. So we're all in there. We're sunburnt, we're soaked, we're tired, we're exhausted. And my uncle's out there. He's sitting around the fire, drinking beer with some of these old salty dogs. And my aunt, his wife rolls up. She laid into him. It was the funniest. Oh my gosh, she laid into him.