North Dakota hunting will ramp up next month. But, in Florida, it can happen in February. A couple formerly from Minot who now live in Florida beckoned us to spend the day hunting crustaceans north of Marathon Key’s Seven Mile Bridge with other friends. We had not experienced such a thing before, but were anxious to give it a try. Sunscreen, towels, hats along with an ample supply of refreshments were assembled, bagged and waited in the car.

When we arrived, it was obvious Dan and Joan had been busy with preparations for the adventure. Their boat was loaded with several five-gallon buckets which held swim fins, masks, snorkels, fishnets and 30-inch aluminum rods with the last six inches bent at a slight angle. The gear proved itself essential for the day’s work.

Cap’n Dan ordered lines set free as sizable outboard diesels spun the ship on its keel. He pointed her out of the channel and into the gulf. After twenty minutes, GPS revealed our approach to lobster holes marked and recorded during previous outings for Florida’s spiny lobsters. As the boat hovered over a favorite spot, the Cap’n descended from the cockpit to slip each foot into a fin and grab more gear. As Lloyd Bridges often did on “Sea Hunt,” he fell backwards off the boat’s side into the tepid water.

Spotting movement below, he bent in half and pushed his butt, then fins, skyward before disappearing from sight. A minute later, he resurfaced with two fingers extended. This scouting report signaled two lobsters hiding on the bottom. Rita reached for fins and snorkel, anxious to join Dan. Peering down at the Swiss-cheese-looking ocean bottom, heads of several clawless lobsters peered up at her. She repeated the captain’s “fanny then fins to the sky” move, fanning air before descending twelve feet to the bottom. She placed her fishnet alongside a promising hole, then stuck an aluminum prod inside it. Evening dinner shot out of the rock-hard cheese and into the net. Rita twisted the net closed before heading to the surface. Measurement of the crustacean confirmed eligibility for a ride to shore in the live-well.

At another location, Cap’n Dan again made the first entry into the brine and announced that a Sheep’s Head fish was there for the taking. He took the spear gun this time and, within a minute, returned with the over-sized, striped fish harpooned on the spear’s business end. Earlier, a Lionfish had also been impaled. Although very eye-catching and seemingly harmless in appearance, Lionfish have highly venomous spines and no natural predators. As a result, they proliferate unchecked in ocean waters and consume food necessary for other sea life to survive. Over time, they crowd out more desirable fish. Divers and fishermen are encouraged to rid Florida waters of them.

Following a brief break for nourishment and hydration, lobstering resumed. Several other stops brought aboard more bounty to join ten-legged friends already in the live-well. No two-legged complaints were spoken that day, since the gulf had become remarkably smooth and air temperature (wind chill included) stood at 85 degrees while the gulf temperature bore a close resemblance to bath water. Considering an ample supply of spiny lobsters and our need to pack for the next day’s return to the frozen north, a decision was made to head in. The final twenty-minute ride brought all safely back to dock on Marathon.

Cap’n Dan mimicked Martha Stewart with a demonstration of cleaning and preparing spiny lobsters for dinner. First dawning gloves for protection from prickly points on their exoskeleton, a twist centered between tail and torso separated the two. Rita attempted a ‘twist and shout’ effort of her own as a dozen pelicans swam near the cleaning table begging for scraps. They were disappointed when only carcasses flew their direction.

Heartfelt farewells were shared between Cap’n Dan and Joan before our departure. Shortly thereafter we were beckoned once again. This time to the hunter’s dinner table on Summerland Key by the steamy edible-ends of a dozen spiny lobster.