A Poem

5 Bonito boated today. We had some interest from a small Marlin, but he wouldn't commit. Tuna & Dorado remain elusive.

No elk to be seen. Shameful. Did find a rutting bull dove, however. His harem wasn't impressed.
 

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5 Bonito boated today. We had some interest from a small Marlin, but he wouldn't commit. Tuna & Dorado remain elusive.

No elk to be seen. Shameful. Did find a rutting bull dove, however. His harem wasn't impressed.
My pickup is encased in muddy ice and I haven't seen so much as an elk track for three days ... and you send a beach setting photo like that?!
Looks fabulous! Enjoy!
 
'Sittin' in the mornin' sun
I'll be sittin' when the evenin' comes
Watchin' the ships roll in
Then I watch 'em roll away again
I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watchin' the tide, roll away
I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time'

....have fun Ben, ain't nuthin but nearly Monday here.


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1 yellowtail
1 grouper
3 Bonita
4 small something or another's that will be ceviche appetizers for tonights feast of fajitas & tacos.

We lost a nice yellowtail on a 12 weight.
Mantas were taking flight.
Seas were choppy
Sun was hiding behind high clouds.

Swimming in bath water
Watching bait fish crash the waves
I hear it's nice here year round
Except the summer
When it kills you.
 

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Glad your having a good time. continue to enjoy and best of luck with your fishing
 
A late cancellation put us back on the boat this morning.
A large bull sea lion slid off his perch
And followed us out to the hunting grounds,
Hoping to steal his breakfast.

Mobulas broke the surface
Reaching for the sky as if to thank God
for the gift of the sea.

4 Dorado fell victim to live trolled skipjack
And a few well placed flies.
The gaff & the bat bloodied the deck
And filled their promise,
That Don Paco,
King of the Cortez Sea,
Told us they made.

Time to fly home.
 

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Thanks for taking us along on your warm water adventure. I miss seeing those golden bullets in that deep blue water.
 
Now come back and let the cruel elk wipe that smug smile from your satisfied face. You might be the only hunter in the Breaks with a tan next week.

Heading out Friday or Saturday for the last week.

If it's brown, it's down. Won't feel bad putting that permit in a cow if that's the opportunity. Meat in the freezer trumps antlers on the wall.
 
Heading out Friday or Saturday for the last week.

If it's brown, it's down. Won't feel bad putting that permit in a cow if that's the opportunity. Meat in the freezer trumps antlers on the wall.
Can't have surf and turf without the turf. Good luck in the elk woods.
 
There is no poem to establish how crappy the last few weeks have been in relation to being able to get out to hunt. Work, life, etc all got in the way, and even as I was sitting and glassing last weekend, I had a recall from a client who wanted me around to do some work, so I drove 600 miles round trip to not even get out for a walk.

8 points down the drain, no shot fired, not one elk seen. I remain the world's least effective elk hunter, so at least I have that going for me. I'ma go cry in my soup now.

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The promise of tomorrow with a snooty draw tag in hand
Can't wait for the season, strike up the band,

Off you go with all the creature comforts, save the fondue
Hey, that Newberg caravan has got nothing on you

Takin care of business, after the season begins
somehow it all slipped away, like dust in the wind

Hunting that hallowed ground with an air of nonchalant
micky likes to tell me, you can't always get what you want,

All that effort, and nothing to show but sore joints
man it really sucks that you burned all your points,

So, A valued destiny comes to nothing in the end,
Well, there is always next year, my confederate friend
 
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The promise of tomorrow with a snooty draw tag in hand
Can't wait for the season, strike up the band,

Off you go with all the creature comforts, save the fondue
Hey, that Newberg caravan has got nothing on you

Takin care of business, after the season begins
somehow it all slipped away, like dust in the wind

Hunting that hallowed ground with an air of non nonchalant
micky likes to tell me you, can't always get what you want,

All that effort, and nothing to show but sore joints
man it really sucks that you burned all your points,

So, A valued destiny comes to nothing in the end,
Well, there is always next year, my confederate friend


This is a lovely poem. I approve. :)
 
The promise of tomorrow with a snooty draw tag in hand
Can't wait for the season, strike up the band,

Off you go with all the creature comforts, save the fondue
Hey, that Newberg caravan has got nothing on you

Takin care of business, after the season begins
somehow it all slipped away, like dust in the wind

Hunting that hallowed ground with an air of non nonchalant
micky likes to tell me, you can't always get what you want,

All that effort, and nothing to show but sore joints
man it really sucks that you burned all your points,

So, A valued destiny comes to nothing in the end,
Well, there is always next year, my confederate friend

...you could be a songwriter for ABBA ; )
 
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