Monday, December 24, 2007

Make your own stuff

I just got done building sink tips for the first time. The last two years I have been fishing three tips, a type 3, 7 and 8 and thats it. Usually this will suffice, but when the water is up it is going to be damn nice to have some t14 tips in the wallet. I even got grimy and built some with intermediate cheaters. What really initiated the event was the acquisition of a new stick. Neighbor Nate (from now on N^2) built Kari and I a sweet St. Croix Avid 7/8 (really probably a 7), a real spicy rod. As soon as we figure out the right line for it, Kari and I will finally be able to fish two handers together and not fight over one rod, this should decrease rock throwing and splashing each other when posturing for the rod.

On an unrelated (mostly) note, I dirty mcdirted a hatchery rat on saturday. I had never fished corkies and yarn and since the water was high, there were dudes everywhere, it was cold, and we only had a couple hours to fish (read: I am turning into a lazy hick), I figured I would try to put some meat on the table with the gear. When we walked up to the run Kari said, "Alright, we are going to get one here.", very matter of fact like. About 15 minutes later the fish was on the bank. Tasty tablefare, indeed.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Comatose, but walking still

The holidays are shitty, in that you miss out on fishing. But they are good, in that you get to fish more. This paradox has shown itself through recent circumstances. Now, I must say, I use the term "holidays" here rather loosely. It doesn't necessarily mean Christmas or Kwanza or Thanksgiving (it could though), but more precisely means a cause for celebration. So my friends want to celebrate, but I unfortunately am stricken with this condition that requires me to drink just enough to not fish the next day when friends want to celebrate, now I don't get plastered, but drunk enough that I shouldn't be driving until at least 8 or 9 the next morning and also drunk enough so that I will probably sleep til 10 anyways. This is a shitty condition for a fishermanperson. On the other hand, if I can somehow manage to avoid anymore of these celebratory affairs, I have two consecutive four day weekends coming up (thanks to the "holidays") that could very well fill themselves right up with fishing. However, to avoid the celebrations means to alienate ones friends, quite the conundrum really. I have been partially contemplating not having friends except for fishing friends, though this would rapidly wittle my total number of friends down to about 2 (another condition I have is not wanting to fish with a solid 98.7% of the fishermanpeople I meet). I can't decide if this is good or bad.

Anyways, I guess the point is I got too drunk on friday and saturday last weekend to fish (I feel like I should maybe whip myself for saying "too drunk to fish", it somehow goes against previous statements I have made, I just can't figure out how). So maybe the real point is that this has nothing to do with friends or celebrations or holidays, but solely with my own ability to balance activities, although it feels really 90's to blame myself for my problems, this is the 2000's, I should assuredly be blaming this on the government or more aptly on someone else's government. So there you have it, I think I will retract blaming the "holidays" and instead blame the government of South Africa (or wherever the Miller brewing company moved to). See, I think the kegs of shitty Miller would have been cheaper than the PBR if they hadn't relocated, thus the party would have had a keg of shitty beer instead of the sweet PBR nectar and therefore I wouldn't have drank so much and I could have fished. This seems perfectly reasonable to me.

Side bar: Brothers, sorry we can't make it back for the "holidays", have fun and do some fishing (target species unimportant) cause we will be for sure!

Side bar 2: I swear the permit story is coming. I have a lot to say about it, but haven't really felt like typing it all yet, maybe I will just type a little and let the pics talk more...time will tell I guess.

Side bar 3: Nate sucks. He hooked two winters on the swung fly yesterday and locations fully disclosed (to me, bitches!), if my skills ever make it to such a level you can't count on much more pertinent posting!

For those of you that get them, enjoy the long weekends!

Friday, December 7, 2007

On second thought

So, I no longer blame the cat. I am pretty damned sure it was a coon, due to the scratch marks themselves and a piece of hair. When a cat scratches shit it does it like its on speed or something, taking several passes at the scratching surface with both paws. This didn't look like that, it was about five or six total scratch marks, and they line up perfectly if one were to imagine a big fat coon trying to climb up the tube, slipping a little, and digging in such that one or two claws from each paw scratched the tube. I asked myself what the hell a coon would want to climb up on my boat for, then remembered it was right around the time of the whole salmon, gear, dirty mcdirt, egg goo escapade. I think that fucker smelled the egg goo and wanted a go at it....I also found a piece of hair, suspiciously gray turning to brown with a black bar near the top and a lighter brown on the other side of that. The boat has now paid me back in all possible ways, inflicting pain upon itself even. Point taken, again...and until further notice there shall never be bait in or around that boat again.

Most pertinent Harry quote: "Let's blame the racoons." - this was said right after I told him about the boat, damned guy is like the Nostradamus of the Carribean.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Cat Scratch Fever

So as most of you know I recently acquired a new used skookum cat from my good friend bacon. I have only had er out one time, which, again, most of you know about. Well she was sittin there in my carport, lookin real good, when one day I squeezed her right tube and it was a little low. "Hmm" I say, a bit flustered, "what the fuck?", I see the cat scratches and get a fever that no amount of cow bells could touch. It was a sad day on the homefront, but only about two days before I left for Belize so I had to forget about, it was a potential trip downer which needed to be put out of mind. A day or two before we came back, I let it start creeping in the back of mind, to sort of prepare for remembering and reliving the sadness. It wasn't as bad the second time around. Anyways, when I pumped it back up yesterday and lathered some soap on the firm tube, I saw no bubbles, smiled and applied aquaseal hoping to avoid a full on patch job. We went bowling (kingpin right here bitches), came back and and the fucker had leaked. I let some air out and tried one more fresh dab of aquaseal but it leaked again. I tried one more time with the aquaseal on a flat tube tonight, I have a penchant for trying things half ass at least 5-10 times before I do it right, I can't seem to shake this. If this attempt doesn't work the patch will be on by tomorrow night, the boat must float with confidence by the weekend.

Oh and E, the permit story (you know the most of it) will arrive on its own time, much like the permit itself.

Monday, December 3, 2007


As posted earlier, for the first week of the honeymoon we stayed on Ambergris Caye, at a place called Xaman Ek retreat and spa. They were kinda blowholes, just starting out in the "retreat and spa" business and in need of a little direction. Location was fuckin money though...especially since there were bones tailing about 100 feet from my cabana. The first one I caught (the only one I got pictures of...the smallest one, for real!) was about 40 feet from the "retreat and spa's" pier. I caught four total, but it took me about 4 mornings and 3 evenings to do it...I had a lotta shots. The biggest one a local ate for dinner. He was walking down the beach with a backpack pesticide applicator on, always GREAT to see, and he said "is it a good one?" and that he wanted to eat it, hope it was good.

I don't really know when this happened, but all I did after landing the fish was put it in the hook rest, so I am pretty sure I hooked and landed him with the hook like this. Fuckin genious I tell you.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

Hot Damn

Fuck eh. Is it possible to make a vacation "long enough"? Cause that one felt long, but it certainly was not even in the realm of "long enough". I need to manipulate some photos so that they are more comfortable on the page and then I'll start putting them up here. There is a couple good ones, permity little pictures even.

Harry Quote #1 - "The higher the monkey climb, the more he expose his ass to trouble."