"Don't look up," he yells as he strips off another few feet of monofilament. What kind of nonsense is that? You're standing in a small boat being violently rocked by a beam sea, hoping to hell you can get a motor started before the whole shooting match gets swamped and some joker yells, "Don't look up." Of course, I look up. The trouble is, I don't see anything because an eight-foot wall of water is staring me in the face. Vintage...