I’m not exaggerating when I say that while we’re in Miami getting blown out, I get pneumonia. Not a cold, not the sniffles; pneumonia. But we gotta keep shooting, so I call down and find out that they are catching tuna at the sub, and the Wahoo are moving into Key West. So we load up and head south; as you’ll see, this is how the show opens in the driving rain and wind. Regardless, we’re going to Hurricane Hole to meet up with one of my good friends. I have my Panamanian 1st mate Juan with me, and he is bound and determined to catch his first… amberjack?