I've been waiting two years for the right timing and ability to double-haul the 8 weight again in my favorite salty place. Finally got the chance, and did ok for a 60 year old last chance cripple. Seven days on the bow of the skiff by myself, assuming all the responsibility of casting to every fish Juan saw at every clock angle imaginable, sometimes all at once if he had his way. We made four long morning runs up to the wintertime land of plenty, and Juan had me around 'em. One day stood out among the rest, shooting fish in a barrel, but we worked and hunted hard for the schools the rest of the time. Reality check. I booked the week that was available on pretty short notice, so I didn't have the morning low tides I love for Gurgler fishing, but I still got some eats on top. The rest were still mostly visible. Shoulders willing, I shall return to make up for some lost time.
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| The man, the legend. I let him hold one of my big offshore fish! |
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| Not enough Gurglers, a few too many dumbells, but a nicely rounded selection for the week. The blacks aren't well represented, but really performed. |
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| The Idaho guys, Dave and Brett, who lit the fire under me last month to book this trip. |
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| The Resturante La Pigua cream of shrimp soup. Light tomato based, with a little cheese and a splash of sherry wine that I've copied at home for years now. There was plenty of shrimp consumed nightly, and some grilled snook fillets to spice it up. |
