Just got back from Mex for my wedding and a week of unadulterated baby tarpon fishing, brown weed blazing and Nicolas Cage style drinking. It was fantastic.
I am not a great fisherman...despite living in a trout fishing mecca for several years, I didn't really get into until a few years ago but have been more or less fishing my tits off ever since. And for reference, I had only been Poon fishing one day before and it took me a little while to get the shift in mindset from trout/steel head to the bony mouthed, fight-you-like-you-raped-its-sister Tarpon. Let's just say I missed a few sets and broke a few off before finally landing a couple.
The morning would start off with a good old fashioned boat race. All of the boats were our buddies:
Our own Conundrum and his first taste of the poon, landed after repeated double black diamond casting under an overhanging mangrove. We could see it rolling from time to time and I think it was about his sixth well-place cast and strip that this little bastard finally took.
Conundrum stripping like a single mom working her way through dental assistant school:
Yours truly, zeroing in on one of many baby poon seen that week:
My very first poon...it was oh so sweet.
Scouting:
My buddy JB giving it hell and then the grip and grin:
I love Mexico:
The local wildlife was pretty cool, too:
And the obligatory wedding shot. No, we're obviously not Mormon nor good catholics:
All in all, an amazing fishing trip with a wedding attached to it. The last day I went solo with a guide and managed to boat one, lose one as we were pulling it into the boat, break off two and fucking trout set another two (which doesn't even begin to work, fyi).
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