I was only twenty-one in 1963 when I had completed my first, successful, deep-sea fishing trip. Before I headed out on my second trip, we were in the Hull Docks which were pretty grim, dark, and wet. So, I decided to get my feet on solid ground to have a few drinks.
After a great night, no doubt filled by a few too many drams, I found myself in an underground, illegal gambling den. To my surprise, most of the gamblers were older ladies. I started to play Blackjack and made some money. I made a little more money, but the gambler’s curse overcame me and I kept playing until I had lost all of my money. I didn’t even have a penny in my pocket when I left the gambling den at two in the morning. It was drizzling rain, that kind of drizzle that soaks you to the bone within minutes. It was pretty miserable and I had a long two-mile walk back to the docks, where things weren’t that much brighter. At that moment, I told myself that I would never gamble again.
Anybody who knows me well knows that I take risks in life and I’ve been lucky on that side of things. But, despite having visited Monaco, Macau, and Las Vegas, I’ve never gambled any more than $100. All because of that eye-opening experience, at the age of 21.
