I was up late last night prepping for my daughter's birthday party. She turned four a couple weeks back, but many of her classmates had birthdays the past two weekends. This weekend was her turn. Up early, way too early, to pack the car and of course dad was off to the park to set up the area for the festivities. The party was great, the day unfolded without a hitch. Back at the house the misses said "why not go fishing for the evening, I've got the girls handled". I thought I'd go to the Mason not Dickson line and wet a line hoping for an evening hatch. She suggested that I just hit a local beach and not go so far. I was tired and took her advice. Here is where you might be interested... A neat beach very close to my house has two small streams that flow from some swamp/marshlands into the Hood Canal. Not often, but sometimes I come here to fish because the little gifts of the sea, SRC's inhabit this area. Great oyster beds spaced between eel grass patches make this a great place for small baitfish to find cover. They find cover and the SRC find them all too delicious. So here I am, hiking up the beach. I'm casting here and there but not seeing much activity. There is another guy...WTF, there is never anyone else out here...fishing about 100 yards from me on the opposing side of the freshwater inlets. I saw a follow on my version of Leland's popper and knew that I'd be reaquainted with one of my friends soon. Next cast nothing, but I hear a WHOOO HOO from the dude. WTF, this dude just hooked into one of my friends and is barking and talking trash, this just is not right. This is when it took a turn for the worse and I lost my freaking cool o nthe beach today. Dude was whip jerking the fish hard, whatever meat stick he had barely bent. He horsed that little guy up onto the beach. He's not wearing waders, and he is well out of the water, at least 10 feet. Bastard, yes I called him a bastard and don't mind if he is reading, but I know he is too stupid to type in washingtonflyfishing.com. That bastard hauled this little SRC, probably about a 14" er, right up onto the beach. He drug it through the rocks, many barnacle covered or old oyster shells that are harsh as hell, and of course the sand right up to his feet. He proceeded to kick it once, take out a camera and snap a shot. I bet he did not get off more than one photo before I was next to him. I'm not exactly sure what I said, but I had tossed my rod aside, run up to him, picked up the fish bit off his line and headed out into the water. He was barking some bullshit and now the reality is setting in that once I get out of the water this dude and I are probably gonna dance. I removed his huge barbed hook from the wee SRC lad, did my best to rinse the sand that was caked to his slime layer off just by moving him to and fro in the water. After a couple of minutes of nursing him and knowing that he was a goner for sure he splashed me in the face and glided away from my hands. I'm still not sure if that fish will make it or not but it made it away from me pretty smoothly. Now about the dude and the dance...I rinsed my hands off, wiped them on my waders and turned around to see what his posture was like...gone. Freaking guy was gone like a ghost. Now that is weird as shit, I'm sure that there should be some sort of conflict happening now, but this guy has booked from the scene. Now I'm thinking that he snatched my rod and booked it, but my rod was sitting where I tossed it. I rinsed it off, looked around again and headed back down the beach. I'm still a little jacked up about it and it was about two hours ago now. I lost my cool on a beach today.