It all happened in an instant, yet it felt like slow motion. What started out as a beautiful “light-and-variable wind” day of sharking in the mudhole eventually progressed into fifteen knot winds and four-foot seas by the afternoon. As we started rocking and rolling, the chum in our two chum bags started dispersing at a much more rapid rate. As I reached over to grab on of the chum bags for a refill, the frayed rope holding the bag instantly snapped, sending the bag adrift. I put my knees on the gunnel and over-extended my reach as far as I could to save my $30 chum bag. At that very instant, a rogue five-foot wave lifted the opposite side of the boat and dipped my side almost into the water… I was about to become “one with the chum”, going from the very top of the food chain to the very bottom. I remember knowing that I was going in the water and feeling helpless to stop it. Head-first I slid right off the gunnel, took in a nice mouthful of salty chum water, and worked my way to the back of the boat where I had a fold-away swim ladder to get back onboard.