We left at dawn after loading Bobby’s 24 foot Mako with my fishing gear.  He had a boat, a little tackle, some fish sense, and less experience.   I had all the tackle in the world, too much fish sense, and no boat.  The day was blustery but seemed to be warming calmer; the bay side water was wind-blown a milky aqua green. Bobby pointed out bird life to his three son-in-laws as we sped south toward Snake Creek. Bobby spent many years as Chief administrator for the US Fish & Wildlife service.  He’d learned a great deal about the different species of birds and fish and took a more scientific approach to fishing than most of the adventure seekers and adrenaline junkies who I wound up mating for. I felt a little awkward aboard the boat with Bobby and his three son-in-laws for no other reason than that I knew Bobby as a man’s man.  He’s the kind of man who’d ask a future son-in-law if he was sure he knew what he was getting into before he got into it.  But I didn’t want to assume too much and I didn’t know how Bobby felt about each of his…