ANYONE IMPACTED BY A VIOLENT ACT WHILE FISHING?

[Swimmer]

In 1985 or 1986 I was fishing Gay Head during the derby just south of Philbins Beach. The access to this area was private but the beach itself really wasn't. My permission to fish there came from an old friend from my days in the old Ritz Cafe when Arthur Pacheco was still alive named Jimmy Manning. At around midnight a jeep grand wagoneer came over the dune and stopped about fifteen feet away from me. I'm sitting in a chair watching a couple of rods, which weren't doing anything. The driver of this wagoneer gets out and plunks his rod in the sand about two feet from my rod, and thats conservatively two feet. It was probably less. He looks down at me and say to me, "your fishing in my spot." My reply was "do tell." Now anyone who knows this area will agree there is probably eight or more miles of beach to fish without restriction and this guys picks my ten square feet.
He and his friend set up shop right on top of my gear and me. His buddy the passenger in the wagoneer never said a word to me. He just smiled a lot. The driver kept up with the stupid words letting me know how much a fool he was. I am not a slouch by no means (learning how to fight was a byproduct of my profession) but I figure if something was going to start they were going to have to do the honors. As much as an a-hole this guy was the possibily of him coming after me just never materialized. Anyway, after about an hour this huge skunk walks up to my bait bucket, which was about two feet to my right just in front of my cold drinks and food. I didn't like the idea of this skunk being so close especially since i had a bigger skunk to my left. I got up and bolted to my left after a moment or two when the skunk looked like it was going to sniff my stinky fish and guts covered footwear. I did not realized when I turned to move how close the driver of the wagoneer was who had been giving me the you know what for an hour. With my shoulder down I mowed the puke over knocking him down and got about twenty feet away from where the skunk was. I started laughing uncontrolably when I realized what happened. The puke wagoneer driver got up and said in a real polite way now, since he found out just how hard he was taken down me (by accident really), "what did you do that for?" I told him about the skunk at that point, which was walking right toward him. The skunk never did pee on us. The puke had the nerve to ask me for tip glue though shortly after this. I looked at him and said "you've got to be s@*^#**g me." I would not give you tip glue for any reason. Their was more banter than this between us than this. He and his buddy left before I did and I made sure when he went over the dune he drove right by my van. I checked his plate later after I left the beach using the pay phone at Alley's General Store, for future reference and my own safety as long as I was on the island fishing during the derby. Now you all know what I do for a living. He was a real putz. The threat was real because there was two of them. If this guy was by himself he never would have opened his mouth. What really pissed me off was that he caught two ten pound bluefish and I caught a couple of rats. I used to live on the vineyard in 1973, and after all these years he's the only person I ever came across fishing on the vineyard or anywhere else for that matter that I ever had words with.