Life of Reilly III - Frying Fish

Most days at dawn we are greeted by a fresh harvest of flying fish. They
are quite plentiful, which is remarkable given that they are obviously
also stupid. Usually 2 to 4 per night. One vigorous fellow brained
himself on the dodger framework - a good 10 feet above sea level.
Another adventurous soul found his/her way into the cabin landing at the
base of the companionway steps. Yet another, whacked Fred in the head as
he sat at the helm one night. Fred got revenge by cleaning, gutting and
frying the former flying fish and eating him and one of his brethren for
breakfast. Very tasty.