We awoke in a stupor, actually some of us were just in a stupor as sleep was not on the previous evenings itinerary. Jt was in rare form, talking to the couch as if there was a smoking hot Costa Rican named Natalia still there. Apparently at some point in time his eyes and brain developed an hour time lapse. Glassy eyed and wreaking of the previous nights antics, we rally.
Dan and the boys show up ready for business. Apparently we had organized a small rendevous as gaggles of bikini clad women began to slowly fill the Salty. Our new fishing buddy and his wife Audrey looked dubious, to say the least, about our odds and and or capability of ever making it off the dock, much less getting out of the marina to fish.
Slowly but surely provisions were stowed(ie shitload of beer and ice) and we were on our way. Creeping past Peanut Island it was all I could do to restrain Jt from dropping the hook right there and embarking on a biblical tear of bikini booze ignited debauchery. With a whimper and a forlorn howl at the waning moon we trudged onward past the last jetty to see what we might find.
Fishing was anything but spectacular, but the memories were those of a lifetime. Paul and Alex controlled the cockpit like old pros, rigging ballyhoo and dropbacks like only the Florida boys know how. Jt and myself drank beers and made wisecracks to the ladies as only a seasoned vet such as ourselves is capable. A few sails were seen freejumping and a few kings came and ripped off apart our baits, final count one barracuda. But with the cockpit baittanks/jacuzzis stuffed with 8s and 9s(sorry girls, SD says 10s are myths) we rocketed back to Peanut Island at 40 knots to end the day in style with a nice wholesome family style BBQ( ok so it wasnt wholesome and we did in fact scare off several familys).
Thanks to all involved. It was a lot of fun and it wont be our last rodeo together. Heres a few pics. Enjoy.



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I like SteveD's style.