Apollo report, Feb 1-4


Jul 27, 2009
los angeles
17 Boston Whaler
(It's a long, long, long ways...
if you don't like reading,
skip it.)

Just How Far Is It To Heaven?

I wonder if one day,
there will be a trip I take,
that won't be "story" worthy...

It wasn't this one.

If you are my faithful reader, you may recall that,
last year I chartered the Apollo for a multi day tuna fishing trip,
leaving from Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico.

Apparently, the yellowfin tuna down there are a powerful attractant,
as I soon had more people wanting to go chase them,
than I had spots on the boat.

So, this year, I contacted the owner, Jodie Morgan,
him of the Fijian branch of the Morgan family tree,
and chartered the boat for two trips.

After months and months of waiting, it was finally, Our Turn.

There was the San Diego bunch.
There was my friend I met on the Royal Star a few seasons ago, Terry W., aka Tee Dubs.
There was his pal, Nigel, the Englishman.

There was the other friend I made on that Royal Star trip, Tee Dub's buddy, Dave B.
There was Dave bringing along his adult son, Jacob, as his wing man.

There was Chris K., who lost his wing man, Stacy M., just before the trip,
so he rode into town along with Tee and Dave.

There was the Lodi Gang.

There was my cousin Kenji Knock..
Kenji had done his own charter trip last winter, but his group struggled.
He's brought back two of his fish killing pals, Lodi Mike & "Big Game" James.
to wreak some vengeance upon the tuna that defeated them last year.

There was one more irregularly shaped piece of the picture puzzle that was my pal, "Corndog" Jones, from Colorado.

He should have been with the San Diego bunch.
His family has a long history of it's own working in the sport fishing industry down there.
He spent the better part of his youth working on the Spirit of Adventure in the summertime.
He travels back from Colorado every year to take a trip on it.

I met him a couple of seasons ago on somebody else's Apollo charter,
and now here we were,
all of us,
back together again,
for the first time.

We met up in PV a day early.
Kenji's buddy James, knows a guy, who knows a guy,
whose got a restaurant in the old part of the city.
The plan is for all of us to get to know one another over a couple of drinks,
and a nice meal.
That way, when we get on the boat tomorrow, everybody will know everybody,
and everything there is to know,
and we can get the party started, sin retraso.

As rain fell in Los Angeles,
I flew to Mexico late in the afternoon.

Caught a cab over to the hotel,
and found Jason, and the San Diego bunch waiting in the bar.

A couple of drinks later we were grabbing a taxi van and heading out to dinner.

The taxi driver was a wonderful gentleman.
Crisp black slacks, a white shirt, he spoke English, and obviously took pride in his work.
Not like those knuckleheads I seem to get at LAX every time I go home.

As we headed south into the old part of the city, our driver told us that today was a historic day.
Today, for the first time, he declared, there were FOUR cruise ships docked at the same time in their harbor.
We were driving by them when he pointed this out to us, with pride.
I looked at the size of those floating hotels,
and asked our driver,
"Where are all of the people from those boats right now?"
He said they were probably out having dinner.
Probably at the same restaurant we were heading to.

Ay, caramba
, I thought to myself.
We rolled up to the restaurant,
and sure enough,
there was a big crowd waiting to get in.

We piled out of the van,
breathed in that cool night air,
turned around and spotted the Lodi Gang.
Kenji's pal, Big James was waving us inside.
I took the last place in line to make sure we all got inside.

The place was packed,
and it was rockin'.

Being the last guy in line,
I played the part,
a little bounce in my step,
a little swagger in my gait,
waving to folks,
making eye contact,
"Hey, wazzup?"
They were probably wondering "Who the hell is it That Guy?"

You got that right.
We snaked our way upstairs thru another dining room full of patrons.
My rock star act continued as the staff escorted us to the VIP room where we settled in.

The staff were all beautiful hispanic creatures, descended from Aztec princesses.
They all had this cute little carhop/mechanic outfit that fit them snugly,
in all of the right places.
Best part was they all had a name tag.
Better part was they all were named Joe.
Man, I tell you, I was in heaven.
What else would you expect at a place called Joe Jack's Fish Shack?

I was liking Big James' style already.
There was an extra special bonus.
Kenji's wife Anne, decided to join our dinner party.
They had come down to Pee Vee a couple of days early and have been enjoying themselves immensely.
She's leaving to go back home tomorrow, when Kenji will be getting on the boat for three and a half days.
We tried to chat a bit, but the background noise in the restaurant made it nearly impossible.
Later, when the crowd thinned out a bit, we got a chance to exchange a few words.

I'm sure I made an impression.

Drinks, appetizers, dinner, more drinks.
A great time was had by all.

We stumbled out of there a couple of hours later,
happy and content.
I told the DJ to cue up Los Lonely Boys.

We danced our way out the door,
saying Good Night to our gracious host,
and to the Lodi Gang.
Thank You Big Jim, you did good.

Some of us stayed and checked out the local entertainment.
Some of us took a taxi back to the hotel.
Corn Dog, in the co-pilot's seat, gave the driver lessons in international relations along the way.


The plan was for all of us to meet,
post check out,
across the street,
at the Apollo Lounge.

It's a place to wait to get on the boat,
or wait to go to the airport.
A place where everybody knows your name.

Check out time at the Veradero Hotel was noon,
so I slept in.

The waves crashing on the beach were like a lullaby.
I was basking in the warm temperature,
which was a welcome relief from chilly LA.
The palm trees swaying,
framing the view of Banderas Bay from my window,
created a visual that was intoxicating.
I gave in and got up.
Hot Coffee and a shower, I was good to go.

I moseyed on over to the lounge and said hello to one of my favorite people in the world,
the Lovely, and most pleasant, Dany Ryan.
She's the hostess here at the lounge.
The Meeter, and the Greeter.
Your initial contact.
The problem solver.
Whatever you need, she'll fix you up.

The plan was for everyone to meet here,
and maybe go have some lunch nearby at my cousin Eddie's place.

Another one of my favorite people in the world showed up, and was dragging one of his favorite people in the world with him.

It was Captain Justin Ryan.
Un Caballero de diversos talentos,
and Mr. Chucho Saldana,
lure maker extraordinaire.

Everyone was interested as Chucho showed off his latest creations.
Justin was discussing all manner of things with the guys on the charter.
Chucho made a few sales and took off,
so I invited Justin to join us for lunch,
and he graciously accepted.

At some point about here, I was made aware of the fact that Justin was NOT going to be working on the boat during our journey.
To say that I, and my passengers, were EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTED to hear that bit of news,
would be an understatement.
It almost ruined the party.

Corn Dog & I met Justin on that charter a couple of years back.
Kenji and the Lodi gang met him last year.
Terry's met him before,
and Dave B. has known him since he was a little kid.

I know these men can't work every trip on the schedule.
They can only put in so many twenty hour days in a row,
before they drop from exhaustion.

And how many times, and how many different ways,
can you answer the same questions,
over and over,
before you go insane?

Justin explained to my crew that he doesn't make the schedule.
He just works here.
He can't work every trip,
no matter how much he wants to,
so someone, somewhere, is going to be disappointed.
Now, it was Our Turn.

He does have a lot of fans.
Everyone who meets him loves him.
I'm not sure he's completely human.
Some type of alien life form, like Superman.

Like everyone else, when I met him,
I fell under his spell, and I thought I was special.
That's his superpower.
He makes everyone feel special.
Who doesn't like to feel special??

It took me a while to figure it all out,
and realize that,
as much as I want to be that one,
I'm just another face in the crowd.

He saw the pained expression on that face,
so he came over.
Justin took me aside and told me no one was more disappointed than he was.

I thought about it for a second,
then told him,
even if he didn't mean it,
that was the right thing to say right then.

We moseyed over to Eddie's place where mi tio set up a couple of tables for us.
I put Justin in the middle of everyone,
and he held court for a couple of hours,
entertaining and enlightening.
I can't help loving "that guy".

After lunch, we split up.
I took the San Diego bunch across the main channel via water taxi.
I wanted to show them the Paradise Village resort,
and some of the options available to them on the other side of the harbor.

We found an upscale market inside a mall,
and picked up a few last minute must haves.
A sign at the register said they were not accepting US dollars.
I had never seen that before.
Justin told me later that the Mexicans are experiencing some economic volatility of their own,
so some merchants on occasion,.
are reluctant to take US dollars that can lose value overnight.


We got back to the lounge and there was nobody there.

Well, Justin was on a sofa, taking an afternoon siesta.
Dany was behind the bar, getting ready to close up shop.

All of our stuff was gone,
and the Lodi Gang was nowhere to be seen.

Justin woke up and told us everyone and everything was already on the boat.
They were down at the dock,
waiting on us.

We bid them an, "Adios",
and took a walk.

A Mexican gentleman who was working on a boat near the gate,
was kind enough to stop what he was doing,
climb up the ramp,
and let the gringos in.

We got to the end of Dock B where Apollo was waiting for us.
I recognized Capt. Jacob Kertzman and Chef Fred Redick from previous voyages.
The new guys got busy stowing passenger's gear in the racks,
and bags downstairs in their staterooms.

New guy number one I introduce myself to is Kelvin Lorenzo Cruz, the captain's youngest brother.
New guy number two, and the guy I'm giving the evil eye to, is Capt. Alex Natipadab.

I got on the boat with a chip on my shoulder.
I'm looking at Alex as they guy sitting at the table I set,
but he's sitting in Justin's chair.

Justin has set the bar so incredibly high,
it really was unfair of me to compare the two.

I chatted Alex up and learned he joined the boat this past summer in San Diego,
and is working his first winter season in Puerto Vallarta.

I asked him to check the ice reserves,
and whatever stock we had on hand,
needed to be replenished.

He looked at me,
and wondered, "who is this guy?"

Big Surprise Number Two was waiting for us on the boat.

The air conditioning was not working downstairs in the sleeping quarters.

The crew had jury rigged a cooler and some fans,
and told us the needed part was on it's way from the US.
I was grateful the weather wasn't any warmer than the high eighties.

Look, it's a boat, and stuff breaks.
Sooner or later, you're gonna be on a trip when something isn't working.
Now, it was Our Turn.

I found Alex again,
and told him we needed MORE ice.

Another of one of my favorite people in the world came down from the wheelhouse to say "hello" and "welcome aboard".
It's Captain Jairam Lorenzo Cruz.
Everybody calls him Jay.
He apologized for the glitches on the boat,
but assured us we would still find a way to have a good time.

He told us fishing had been slow on the last trip,
but had reasons to believe,
faith mostly,
that the bite would improve in the days ahead.

Everybody started to relax.

Fred's Chicken Enchilada dinner was a couple of hours away.
Someone suggested having a cocktail.
We had plenty of ice.


We got to the grounds early to make a couple of piece of squid in the dark.
I took that as a good sign.

Once the sun came up,
we put out a couple of helium balloon rigs.

I put T-Dubs and Nigel in the "stand-by" positions.

Everyone else soaked caballitos,
a fin bait famous for their endurance,
or squids.

I felt pretty good as we started the day.
The good feeling didn't last very long.

We saw a couple of leaping tuna far off in the distance.
I took that as a good sign.

In the middle of the day, the beer chiller decided to join the air conditioning and took a dump on us too.
That was not a good sign.

In order to keep the beers chilled now,
we were going to have to dip into our highly prized ice supply.
We had a crisis situation on our hands now.

The afternoon dragged on,
with nothing to show for our efforts.

In the waning moments of the day, Terry and Nigel, anglers number one and two on the roster,
were still waiting for something good to happen.
The bait soakers, who stayed at the rail all day, were doing the same.

Someone suggested having a cocktail,
while we still have some ice.

The sun set on us as we headed offshore.

Or good sign?
Royal Star,
of all the boats in the fleet,
the boat I met Tee and Dave on,
was in the neighborhood.

They had been fishing the Tres Marias along side us today,
and had actually caught a couple.
They were leaving tonight.
Going to Mazatlan to drop off their passengers,
before heading back to San Diego.

Before they left,
they wanted to give us the rest of their bait.
Well cured sardines from the waters off of San Diego.
As we dined on Fred's Pork Tenderloin supper,
Capt. Jay put on a show.

He put the nose of Apollo right up Royal Star's stern.

The crew of the Star would load a light scoop of sardines and hand the net to an Apollo crewman standing on the starboard side of the bow.
The Apollo crewman would take that bait scoop, and run down the starboard side of the boat to the stern,
and gently place the sardines in our bait tank.
The Apollo crewman would then run up the port side of the boat,
to the bow, hand the empty net back to a Star crewman,
and repeat the process, over and over.
The process took place over the course of our dinner.
and the relay race was run right outside our galley windows.

Bait loading and dinner ended at the same time.

I ran out the back door of the galley,
and turned the corner,
just in time to watch Capt. Jay back Apollo's nose out of the Star's ass end.

Standing in the Star's stern,
was Capt./Deckhand Blake Wasano.
I met him on that trip with Dave and Tee.

I gave him a shout, and thanked him for the bait.
Told him it was my charter, and I sure did appreciate the sardine gift baskets.
He looked at me, gave me a small wave,
and thought to himself, "Who the hell is That Guy?"

Most of us never really slept that night.
The lack of air conditioning made it tough.

I don't know if you could call if a "fringe" benefit,
but I got to experience something when
I got up in the middle of the night to answer Mother Nature's call.
I rolled out of my bunk, and tried to straighten myself upright,
and when I did,
I saw something I'd never seen before.

The door to the bunk room,
about six feet up a set of stairs,
was propped open to generate some air movement.
It wasn't really doing much of that,
but it was serving up a spectacular 2' x 7' slice of the night time sky.
From where I stood,
the stars and the constellations above,
and their illumination,
provided the perfect night light for the unlit bottom of the boat.

I went upstairs and took care of my business,
and then stood on the deck.
I tilted my head back,
trying to soak it all in,
horizon to horizon.
How far is it to heaven from here? I thought to myself.


We were up and at 'em early.
We had some fresh squids, courtesy of that night driver, Capt. Jake and some of the lads.
We had a very special load of sardines.
We still had plenty of caballitos.
We had the balloons up early in the dark.

Terry and Nigel,
whether thru frustration,
lack of patience,
or generosity,
or a combination of those ingredients,
both elect to give up their "stand-by" positions,
and give someone else first crack at the balloon today.

T-Dubs knows what he's doing,
but I had to ask Nigel, twice, if he was sure.

Based on yesterday,
there was little chance the rotation would go around and reach him again on this trip.
He said he was sure,
and I told him I hoped the gods of karma would reward him for his kindness.

As soon as the sun rose,
I went into the galley and ordered one of Fred's deluxe breakfast plates.

I have to admit I felt a few pangs of anxiety late in the day, yesterday.
Putting a tuna fish on the boat this morning would do us all some spiritual good.
Being "That Guy" who invited everyone,
it would certainly help my peace of mind.

Terry & Nigel's stunning act of generosity opened the door for angler number three.
Chris Kocaya, a member of the San Diego bunch,
who answered the door when opportunity knocked later that morning.

We got a knock down on the balloon rig,
and Chris made it look easy,
reeling in our first fish,
a respectable specimen that went about 120 pounds.
What a relief.

Capt. Alex came to me and asked if I had any small, sardine size hooks.
I knew I hadn't brought anything that size,
never expecting to fish a sardine down here,
but told him I would ask around.

I put out an APB and
Corndog was way ahead of us.

He showed me his secret stash of small hooks.
He didn't have enough for the whole boat,
but he wanted me to have one.
I was touched by his generosity.
so in return, I asked him for a favor.
"After you land one of your own,
hook a tuna on that hook,
and pass it off to somebody for me, will ya?"

He didn't say yes.
He didn't say no.
I took that as a good sign.

I went back to my role as laundry & morale officer.
It must have worked.
As the day went on,
we made a good score.
The guys with the small hooks had good action using those sardine baits the Star left us.

Dave B's boy, Jacob, stood in the spotlight more than once today.
It was his time to shine.
He landed a couple of tuna in the hundred pound size,
and fought a striped marlin to the boat as well.
An epic day for the young man.
An epic day for any man.

I asked Dave as we watched his kid battle one of his adversaries,
it the kid realized how lucky he was.
Dave nodded.
He might have been too choked up to speak.
Watching his son fight those beasts,
Dave probably felt like he was the lucky one.

Dave runs a lot of summer trips out of San Diego under the banner, Tuna Time Charters on facebook.
He's one of the good guys.
He knows Jodie way better than I do.
He made a phone call, sent an email, pulled some strings, and operated some levers behind the curtain in order to help me get my first charter on the boat.
I owe him big time.
Knowing Dave, I won't be surprised to see an Apollo charter of his own on the schedule next year.
I really enjoyed getting to know him some more on this trip.

"Big Game James" ,
who shined so brightly at that dinner the first night.
took over the spotlight.

Before boarding the boat,
he had purchased one of those lures that Chucho had been selling in the lounge.
It's called a stickbait.
It's about as big as your hand,
and closely resembles a fish.
It's actually a piece of art, hand carved and painted by a Puerto Vallarta local,
and would look great hanging in a gallery.

Off in the distance, Captain Jay spotted a boiling, foaming school of tuna under some birds.
It took him a little while to catch up to them,
but when he did catch up to them,
James had the courage to throw that lure out in the middle of the melee.

I tell you, the fish gods were smiling on him that day, my friend.

James landed a nice fatty,
and when we posed the both of them for some pics in a deck chair,
that plug was sticking out of the tuna's mouth.
I told James Chucho was going to need some more advertising budget.

Pretty soon, Chucho is going to have to hire some employees,
and sign contracts.
He's going to have to find a building to build a factory.
He's going to become an administrator.
He's going to start paying taxes.
He's going to wonder where it all went wrong for him....

Out of the corner of my eye,
I watched Kenji pin on a bait,
go to the downwind corner,
and cast out.

He didn't make it across the stern before his bait got picked up,
and he got yanked into the corner.

It gave me a shiver,
and made my heart feel good,
watching him.

He's got talent.
He's got skill.
He's got a wonderful future ahead of him.
I hope we get a chance to do it again.

Terry got one out of that same boiling school, and handed off another.
T-Dubs was running away with the Sportsmanship Award.

What a guy!
What a day!

Someone suggested we have a cocktail.
We still had some ice.

The mood at dinner that night,
was about a hundred and eighty degree opposite of last night.

Captain Jay's prediction had come true.
The bite had improved, and after the beat down we took on day one,
it felt good to score a few points today.

We savored both Chef Fred's supper, and our victory.
Those sardines from the Royal Star had proved to be a blessing.

Afterwards, we tried to get some badly needed sleep.


As the Patriots got ready to take on the Rams in Atlanta later today,
so too did we prepare,
for a different kind of Sunday showdown.

After breakfast, I took stock of the beer/ice situation.

From where I stood,
it looked like sometime today,
we are going to reach a critical meltdown phase.

Either the ice,
or the cold beer.
One of them was going to expire.

I'm not sure,
but I think it was Chris K.,
using a fin bait,
who got the party started again today.

I know he caught two on the trip.
The second one was a tad smaller than the first.

Alex informed me that our sardine supply was nearing it's end.
We might only have enough for one more long drift over the high spot this morning.

Jason set the bar today.
He hooked another tuna this morning,
and as I had asked,
he handed it off to another angler who hadn't got one yet.

He might have had some regrets later,
when he saw that angler giving some abuse to his favorite,
specially made,
specially designed,
Professional Corn Dog Model fishing rod.

And if it had magically turned into a two hundred pound tuna,
he would have had a ton of regret.

Luckily for us all, it ended well,
and Nigel got to climb up on the victory podium.

It made me feel good to see that kind of spirit,
and brotherhood,
on a That Guy charter.

Big Dave B. was the next guy to get his lottery ticket punched.
It was hanging underneath one of the helium balloons.

Dave's a pro.
He put on a clinic fighting his 120 pound tuna to the boat.
I hoped the lads got a chance to witness some of it.

Big Game James hooked another tuna today.
A monster.
Our only one.
It got off the hook,
just out of reach.

With time running out in the game,
Tee Dubs,
took that defeat into his hands,
and turned it around.

In another act of unmatched generosity,
he hooked another tuna,
and before even setting the drag,
(to see if it was a BIG one),
he was yelling for Lodi Mike.

Mike was the last guy I needed to catch a fish.
When he reeled in that 140 pounder,
maybe the biggest tuna of the trip,
I felt the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders.

With the last seconds ticking off of the clock,
it was time for a cocktail now.
While we still had ice.

Chef Fred served up a steak dinner for the champions that night.
We toasted ourselves,
and the crew of the boat.
We gave Jay a standing ovation for another fine coaching job.
We celebrated our victory late into the night.


Sleep was an unattainable commodity again last night.
I think I spotted a couple of hangovers this morning.

As we motored across Banderas Bay,
under a bright morning sun,
and an incredibly blue sky,
we heard the boat horn go "toot-toot".

We looked out and saw Justin,
on his skiff this time,
coming down our port side,
and around the stern of Apollo.

He came up our starboard side,
and in the bright lighting,
it was a Kodachrome moment,
and I yelled for someone to take a picture, please.

After docking the boat,
we headed back to my cousin's place for breakfast.

Shortly after we sat down,
Justin arrived,
and in a deja vu,
we sat him at the head of the table,
and he held court,
and us captive,

After breakfast,
it was time to get my lads on their way to the airport.

The Lodi gang took off first,
and then the San Diegans not far behind.

My flight wasn't until late in the day,
so I found a cushy spot,
and relived some of the exciting moments from the last few days.

Thought about a few things as well.

Some of the lads were a little disappointed that they didn't get to hook a tuna for the old man.
Some of them wanted to see my fabled, Ninja fish-fighting style for themselves.
I know Jay was trying to get the old man back in the saddle,
like some kind of latter day Man of La Mancha.
he calls it.
We just ran out of time.

I told them to not feel bad for me.
I told them if the gods of tuna fishing had come to me,
before the trip,
in a dream,
like a scene from Game of Thrones,
and told me they had proposition,
I would have listened.

"That Guy", they said, "everyone on your trip will get a big one,
except you."
Or No Deal?"

I'd take that deal every time.

I don't know of another angler who would,
but I would.

You see, I've climbed the mountain.
I crawled to the peak.
I've seen the Promised Land.

I don't know if I'll ever get there again.
I don't know if we'll get there together.

But I know all of you are going to get there one day.
And when you do, I want you to remember That Guy who kind of cut the path.
Showed you the ropes.
Learned you a few tricks.

One last thing before I leave you.
The answer to the question I posed in the title.

I don't know how far heaven is from you,
but I know it's 1222 miles from Los Angeles.

El Fin
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I've posted enough I should know better...
Jul 26, 2007
Northridge, CA
Donald W. Clarke III
11+ ft, Ocean Kayak Scrambler, P 'N' Queue Pod
The prose is not prosaic. And "that guy" is definitely not "that guy."

Great read, thanks for sharing your adventure.

Good fishin'!
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Nov 21, 2011
Idyllwild, Ca USA
Dennis McDougall
Thank you once again Picasso for your well-put prose. Always a pleasure reading one of your tales of fishing.


P.S. I shared a stateroom with Nigel a few years ago on an 11 day on the R. Star. First time in many, many years that I had to share a stateroom on a LR trip. He's one of the Good Guys.
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Jul 7, 2005
Granada Hills, CA
22' Supreme Wakeboard Boat
Nice read Joe! Too bad our schedules didn’t align because I’d like to fish with you again. We seem to have a good time together.

You’re a true sportsman to be able to enjoy watching others catch fish and personally blanking. I’m getting there ( I think). Maybe the BFT will stay in the area and you can get your cow.
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Jul 27, 2009
los angeles
17 Boston Whaler
Nice read Joe! Too bad our schedules didn’t align because I’d like to fish with you again. We seem to have a good time together.

You’re a true sportsman to be able to enjoy watching others catch fish and personally blanking. I’m getting there ( I think). Maybe the BFT will stay in the area and you can get your cow.

Steve, I'm like the captain, I feel like each angler is my tool, so I'm fishing ten outfits all the time...the lads caught 15 tuna for me, 100-150 lbs. Those are big fish for most of these guys.
I'm down for a Pee Vee trip with you anytime.
You want two spots on next year's trip???
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Sep 22, 2009
Northern Colorado
Jason Jones ( Lone Shark)
Century 1801, Hobie PA14 & SoA
Thank you once again Picasso for your well-put prose. Always a pleasure reading one of your tales of fishing.


P.S. I shared a stateroom with Nigel a few years ago on an 11 day on the R. Star. First time in many, many years that I had to share a stateroom on a LR trip. He's one of the Good Guys.

Nigel is indeed a great guy!

I had a great time with all the guys and thankfully James' popper fish let me slide under the radar for Joe's notepad that day :D

Can't wait to visit down there again!

Joe there are 2 more Cornie rods in the works as of yesterday afternoon :)

Next trip I'm bringing size 22 through 14/0 :p
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The Dr.

Almost A Member
May 5, 2015
Ranger 521VX
Great write up Primo!

It was a blast. The Lodi gang definitely enjoyed themselves. We will be back for another shot at a Cow, sometime in the future.
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Quit Wishing, Go Fishing.
Oct 30, 2011
Bend, Oregon USA
"Skool Bus" - 2004 Calabria ProV I
Picasso, the canvas was blank and you filled it well, thanks for the ride, the insight and sharing the twilight.
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Fishin FIN-Attict
May 21, 2006
Frazier Park
12' Klamath Aluminium, 14' Valco
Joe My Friend “That Guy”
As a charter master I too will take “That Deal” any day of the week. Sure hope the AC is fixed lmao

Am excellent read as always my friend.
As fabled and exciting as our trip together last year.

Btw I get Justin 2x but no Fred. . . . Lil Chris cookin’

I hope I have 2 good stories in a lil over a week!

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