Waskily Wabbits...6/18

**Capt Josh** · 06-18-2008 02:13 AM

Man...WHEW...i dunno...but this chit just seems to keep getting better.

It's not everyday you find yourself leaving the airport with six sexy, bikini toting bunny rabbits hopping along behind you. I'll take more of those days like Thursday please! Eager for adventure and literally blown away by their current good fortune the ears of our soft, cuddly friends were perky and alert i assure you. We chipped along ol' highway 200 norte towards Punta de Mita, where twenty five thousand feet of Liberace opulence and 67 feet of ass kicking kevlar awaited. Add the six, carry the twenty five thousand, divide the 67 by several 69's and VIOLA! That's a pretty formidable weekend right there, and wait...i almost forgot to mention the FISHING.

The BOOMER and i have enjoyed a long, loyal, oftentimes fruitful, and always rewarding relationship together. While she has born my weight during the worst of my days, so have i supported her while she herself was wrought with nuisance and disease. But....BUTBUTBUTBUTBUTBUTBUTBUTBUT....through it all...the good times and the bad...what matters most is that together we have kicked some serious ass out there when it comes to the fishing.

Fitting then, that on the morning of the second day, precisely four minutes after the skip jacks hit the deck, the BOOMER would be the one to call our first blue marlin of the 2008 season. The 300# blue crashed a live skipjack with a jaw dropping explosion where the marlin literally JACKHAMMERED the frantic skip jack from inside out, tearing through the surface with a lateral explosion. I FREAKED from the tower, likely scaring the chit out of several of the bunnies as the water turned to play an old familiar tune behind the boat. SMASHFUCKINGWHOOSH as i jammed the throttles in reverse and held on as the BOOMER shook her sultry ass backwards to score our first release.

It was a loooong time in coming amigos and I'm not going to lie to you...IT FELT REALLY, REALLY GOOD!!!

Forget about the tunas crashing hookless poppers over, and over, and OVER again beneath your feet on the bow pulpit until they finally lodge the hook-free lure in their throats and take off for the deep. Forget about the six pairs of bikinis behind you cheering the whole goddamn circus on, and FORGET about everything else in that little biosphere of ours...the most important fact is UNAVOIDABLE. The big girls are back amigos...TIME TO GETCHER FREAK ON.

Now i'm in florida all alone with my thoughts on 57 feet of entirely separate, yet also staggering reality, wrestling with these thoughts and trying desperately to make sense of it all. Because believe you me, i'm just scratching my head along with you.

The boat was a DISASTER when i got here. Eight servicemen and technicians wearing a myriad of tool belts promising to get to the bottom of all kinds of Cat In The Hat conundrums. They get the job done but the wake of creation and ingenuity leaves hefty fines to be paid in forms like the tedious, painstaking detailing of every nook and cranny left unattended since the remodeling began. The simple fact that we have succeeded this far in the resurrection speaks volumes about the level of help we are privy to out here. I am proud to say she is finally, really beginning to look like the champion we envisioned her as.

We still have a tremendous amount to do in a very short time, but thanks to the aforementioned Western Atlantic Kangaroos that possess the ability to jump around from task to task, seemingly without physical exertion, we are nearing the finish line. And i'll be goddamned, nearly all the stuff works!

Soon...VERY SOON we will be fishing swordfish, or hunting bunnies.

Whichever comes first.