Beer in the river: Drunk fish

Perhaps I won't do this story justice, but I'll take a stab at it.
This bishop was in town today, speaking for Trinity Episcopal Church's Lenten Lunch Series.
Bishop Sloan is a fabulous storyteller; I could listen to him read the phone book.
After college, and before seminary, Sloan worked on a boat that went up and down the Mississippi River. He had two weeks on, two off. One night, before his midnight shift, the generator blew. Woke everyone up, naturally. The boat captain ordered Sloan and this other guy to go to such-and-such bar and wait on a man from Baton Rouge to come with a new generator. About six beers later (apiece), the guys decided to get a case for their other buddy back on the boat because they felt sorry he couldn't join the fun.
The boat captain was a reformed alcoholic who didn't allow drinking on board, so the young men knew they had to be careful. Sloan sneaked the beer into the refrigerator, way back behind the lettuce and tomatoes. The next day, when he went to retrieve the beer, Sloan opened the door; he was taking out the case but spotted the captain's shoes under the refrigerator before it closed.
Sloan apologized. The captain said he was apologizing only because he got caught. True enough, Sloan said. Captain told him: Throw all this beer into the river and I will never bring this up again. He complied. A couple of occasions later, Sloan tried to apologize again to the captain. But he'd cut him off. "I told you it was done. ... Let it go. Let it go."
What a gift.
Happy Monday.