Belle sat with her father a little longer, then noticed the time.  "Well, Daddy, I think it's time to head home.  I have to get ready to meet Diego in a couple of hours."  She grinned.  "I know what we'll be eating tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after.."  She laughed.  She began getting her gear together, pulling in her line and securing the hook.  As she leaned over to pick up her tackle box, she said, "Be careful, Daddy.  The deck is wet and you don't need any more bruises."  As she stood up, the latch on her box broke and she reflexively grabbed for all the tackle falling out.<br/><br/>"Ow!" she cried as a hook sank into her finger.  She jumped as the rest of the contents spilled at her feet, causing her right foot to slip out from under her and she went down, hard, onto the wet, wooden planks.  She held her hand high into the air that had the hook firmly attached to her index finger.  She tried to catch herself with her other hand, but as her palm hit the deck the snap of bone was clearly heard.<br/><br/>"Daddy!" she cried.  She finally settled on her back, her one hand still in the air as she lifted the other one to see it hang limply at her wrist.  Her head began to swim a little as nausea fought its way to her throat.  The only thing she could think at the moment was "What a klutz I am!"  Tears sprang to her eyes, more from the sharp pain of the fishhook than the wrist, which was numb at the moment.