[ SEAGULLS CAWING ]

Narrator: 140 MILES EAST...

Sig: I THINK THIS IS THE PLACE TO BE.

Narrator: ...ON THE NORTHWESTERN.

WE'RE ON OUR 20-POT PROSPECT,

'CAUSE THE EACH POT HAS A MILE IN BETWEEN THEM.

SO, SET FOR 20 MILES.

Narrator: THE FIRST GEAR OF HIS OPILIO SEASON FINALLY IN THE WATER,

CAPTAIN SIG HANSEN LOOKS FOR A SIGN OF LIFE

ON A 23-HOUR SOAK.

WE'VE GOT TO FIND SOME CRAB.

SHOT IN THE DARK, HERE.

Man: COME ON, BABY.

Man #2: HERE WE GO. HERE WE GO.

YEAH!

SO FAR, THIS SEASON IS NOT STARTING OFF THE WAY

I WOULD LIKE TO SEE.

WE'VE GOT THREE GUYS...

HOPEFULLY, THERE'S SOME CRAB OUT HERE.

-YEAH! COME ON! -GIVE ME SOME LOVE!

-COME ON! COME ON! COME N! -DAMN IT. COME ON!

[BLEEP] THIS IS NOTHING.

NOTHING GOOD SO FAR.

SO, THE SEASON BEGINS.

WHAT IS WITH MY LUCK THIS YEAR?

IT'S, LIKE, JAMMED.

IT'S NOT SPINNING.

NO.

[ RADIO BEEPS ]

YEAH.

THE CRANE'S NOT ROTATING.

DAMN IT.

I'LL BE DOWN. HANG ON.

I'M COMING DOWN. -ALRIGHT.

Karl: GOD, MAN.

I WAS TRYING TO BRING IT BACK, AND IT KIND OF JERKED.

AND THEN, NOW, IT JUST WON'T ROTATE.

Nick: NO.

THERE'S NO WAY YOU'RE GONNA GET THEM ON DECK LIKE THIS.

NO. HOW ABOUT, JUST FORGET IT?

I'M JUST GONNA HEAD FOR TOWN.

HE'S HAD IT WITH THIS THING.

Sig: THIS IS STUPID.

WE CAN'T BE PUSHING POTS WITH THREE GUYS ON DECK.

900-POUND POTS, IT'LL KILL THEM.

Man: ONE, TWO, THREE, GO.

Sig: WE DON'T HAVE ANYTHING IN THE TANK,

BUT THE WRITING'S ON THE WALL. JUST GO IN, FINGERS CROSSED

THAT WE DON'T WASTE TOO MUCH MORE FISHING TIME.

THANK GOD WE DIDN'T GO WAY UP TO THE RUSSIAN BORDER THIS YEAR.