A Week Where The Monkey Rum Grows...3/18

[Capt Josh]

I'll bet a pit roasted howler monkey we'll never know just how close we flirted with hideous ruin during those few short nights we spent in the gut of Latin America. Pura Vida indeed...sometimes!

Rattling out of the cages at some ungodly hour in the morning after a late night of VIP sports entertainment, heads pounding full of high-dollar booze and borderline nerves just asking for problems. What better way to start a trip, we concluded. Granny...did you spike the goddamn punch again?!?!

God i couldn't imagine a worse combination for pre-dawn customs and TSA shenanigans. But there we were...bleary eyed and salty, testy enough to illicit the suspicion of TSA's finest and WHOOSH! Thank you Mr. Temple could you step right over here...

Yeah...it could have gone either way for a while there but thankfully i squeaked through saint-like once again.

The plane rides in first class were largely uneventful from LAX to San Jose, Costa Rica, as most of us relaxed into self induced comas for the duration of the flights. I did wake from hibernation at one point to an aromatic filet mignon, which i'll tell you was one hell of a good steak...airline kibble or not.

It's been a while since i traveled south of the waypoints of Punta Mita, hence it only took a few hours in San Jose to bristle the hackles in a slightly devilish way. People are allowed to bend the rules in healthy, spiritual curiosity in Latin America and i have to tell you nights like those found in San Jose go a looooong way to quieting inner demons over the long run. Most of what happened has been lost to prayer...and we shall let those thoughts and adventures remain there in eternal peace. Amen.

Mario was kind enough to not feed us to the crocodiles on the road trip to Los Suenos from San Jose the following morning. Something i will remember to thank him for. Those nasty, prehistoric bastards lying in wait along the highway reveal the true nature of life in the tropics where it's not always as serene as it seems. Those sleepy killers turn from sedated tranquil bank jockeys to savage barking man eaters in the blink of an eye and i for one was glad to be on the better side of them. Stray from the highway though amigo...cuidado...estas solo...careful...YOUR ASS IS ON YOUR OWN!

Needless to say we were happy to reach the Los Suenos haven. Successfully outrunning your demons is no laughing matter and one look around the truck told me it was, as usual...a PRETTY GOOD TIME TO GO FISHING!

Capt Mark and his eclectic crew of deckies no doubt had their reservations as 4 grown men and 37 duffle bags of tackle regurgitated onto the front lawn of Los Suenos marina. Looking from the mountain of gear towards the 68 Hatteras SAFARI that was to be our new home for a while, no doubt wrestling with the challenge of just where this orgy of equipment was going to get stowed. "Not to worry mates" we comforted..."Just show us to the rum!"

Things got off to a great start as Kevin, the hard charging East Coast native, and JC, his Nicaraguan counterpart, traded duties around the deck while Capt Mark walked us through current conditions and a loose itinerary for the trip.

I told the skipper that Chris Fischer and the Go Fisch crew had invited us down for some devilry in Drake Bay and suggested we troll our way south to rendezvous with the boys the next night. The Safari boys agreed, and having followed Chris' exploits on TV were eager to meet him.

Our journey to Drake Bay the following day saw us chasing sailfish and football tunas outside the curve. A few of the lures Roddy Hays gave me in Miami were going off, particularly the Piper in purple and green...a lure which accounted for the first of many sailfish during the trip. I was experimenting with a new hook rig and we were pleased to see it working acceptably, releasing our first sailfish just minutes into the fishing.

After some decent sailfish action Capt Mark had us steaming towards a school of spinner porpoise and the promise of tunas. Steve D and i raced for the casting outfits and promptly doubled up on the popper and swim baits. Not the giants we were hoping for but bonafide tunas nonetheless. Proving absolutely delicious under the magic of Matt's culinary skills later that night tied alongside the mother ship.

Fishing from a ship like SAFARI spoils a man particularly quick. It could be the sound-proof bat cave-esq staterooms, the plush, cushy salon where 4 hour siestas are plausible, the massive cockpit or Nikki Beach like mezannine...an opulent sport fishing palace if there ever was one. Between the Safari and the Boomer, the 40 Conquistador was shrinking quick. There's always a bigger fish, however. And even Safari seemed to suck her gut in a little when we rounded Isla Cano later that afternoon, pointed for Drake Bay and zeroed in on the Offshore Adventures mothership, our remote base of operations that night.

Chris has turned into a great friend over the years, and his hospitality and enthusiasm is always contagious. You get him, Brett, Jimmy, and the boys going and it's a loooong journey into the night i assure you. Tales of very real adventure swirling beneath the star filled sky....isolated in some remote bay in Costa Rica aboard a mother ship...game boats, 5 star food, good friends, strong rum, and good times surrounding you. Boys...IT DOES NOT GET MUCH BETTER THAN THAT.

What time we eventually went to bed is anyone's guess. The howler monkeys carrying on in the distance had silenced, that much is for certain. Thanks for a great night of madness in the middle of nowhere amigos. See you in Cocos or some point beyond.

The last day of fishing in Costa Rica proved why the place is held in such high regard world-wide. Literally piles of sailfish would crash the spread and to top it all off, as though we couldn't have scripted it any better, the predictions of Capt Mark and crew proved true when a blue dog erupted in the spread to triumph the final day. Matt fought the beast valiantly on 30 pound as the rest of us scrambled to clear the deck, blow sooty smoke in reverse, or try and remember to click the shutter button along the way.

The beautiful blue put on a spectacular show, nearly catapulting through the outrigger during the release. Capt Mark and crew were having a great time enjoying the satisfaction of a well deserved cherry to cap off an already epic trip.

We decided to end on a high note and flew back to Puerto Vallarta shortly thereafter, where we enjoyed two great days of fishing on Steve D's 68 custom BOOMER. Two great countries, two great fisheries, two great boats, and never too many great friends.

Cinderella ending to an already formidable trip. You CAN dance with the devil in the heart of the tropics, and still find the hand of a higher power by the end of the day.

If that's not worth praying to amigos, i don't know what is.

[stockweiser]

Ahhhhh, Costa Rica. Looks like a kick-ass boat. Thanks for the pictures!!!!

[Stripersniper]

Damm they are some amazing shots. Thanks for posting.

[gottaflylee]

Spectacular pictures as always JT along with another great report...

[Going Deep]

One heck of a good read and some great photos...you got talent young man

[tabasco]

Josh,
what are the comm net boats pictured? and where? that looks brutal. Great shot of the blue and mothership/cabo laying in the bay. tom

[Capt Josh]

Those seiners were here in Vallarta a few days ago...definitely not happy to see them!

She's a HOWLING today boys...30 knots and climbing...no charter today...

[hunt4fish]

Great report and Pics Capt.Josh,when is your book coming out?? Care to go into any detail on your rigging technique on those lures rigged with circles..

[Shortfin]

Your world is pretty cool Mr Temple

That Pettegrow is some fine sporty !!!

[Capt Say]

Nice job brother, hellofa picture taker too dude... SICK...

Ain't it nice to go fish for the Fuc# of it every once in awhile

Blast me a email dude.... CatchemUp@charter.net

The Boomer is quite the toy Looks even nicer close and personel ....

Jay