.


The split second Rick Crouton slammed into the trough,
he bailed, placing all trust into the makeshift 18' cord
attached to ankle and Swastika 100# log. Now, the log
picked up a handful of moe, dragging the cord, and
Crouton in its wake. After fifty yards, "Snatch",
the staggering beach drunks, realized Rick was in
severe trouble crying out for fresh air, the heavy log
was not going to surrender him. Although it's been long
forgotten, there was a berm offshore, harboring a giant
man-eating clam the size of a VW bug, called Frenchman's
Hump. As Rick Crouton's waterlogged body neared
the giant clam the clam's eye lit up like a X-Mass Tree.
Rick's near dead body got within ten feet of the writhing
clan, it's huge shell opened trapping Crouton. The Swastika
11'2" log came to an abrupt halt, the tension on the nylon 18'
"leash" tightened--TWOING--the cord snappef, leaving Rick
victim of the horrific devil-clam. . Once again the riderless log
regained full momentum on the swell. Dr.Wilkes, EddieMacBee,
Stammerhead, Pappy, and "Snatch", watched from shore as the
log drifted in the shorrepound. Oh, Sweet Jesus, fellows, what
shall we do?

Written by Dick Sears.
BRUCE SAVAGE SAND ASSOCIATES