There was not a soul at the fish cleaning station as the sun set in the west.  Our haul for the evening was three white bass and a catfish.   Boat morale was slightly up and it was our best outing to date on this trip.  The boost in confidence quickly diminished as the old man in a straw hat hobbled up to the table.  His two granddaughters followed carrying a cooler full of white bass and wipers.