moore_rb
Stay Thirsty My Friends
Well, some good times, and some not so good.
Grabbed my friends, hooked up the boat and motored south last Wednesday. The drive was uneventful until the border, where those stupid over-kill speedbumps from hell snapped the U-bolts on one of the trailer's leaf springs. We rounded the corner in Sonoyta and found a shop and pulled in and by the grace of God this guy had enough U-bolts in various sizes to re-stock the world after World War III. Amazingly, they had us back on the road in 45 minutes for eighty bucks (they even gave us an extra set just in case any of the others were also getting ready to snap)- I swear, in the US that would have been a $250 job minimum, so we were double-stoked to be back on the road so quickly, and so cheaply.
Dropped the boat at Safe Marina, checked into the condo, and turned in early Wed for an early start to our fishing trip.
Thursday morning we were up at 5:00, jump in the truck, open the console to get my boat-bag out, and no boat keys. No boat registration, no nothing. So I replay the memories of loading everything in Phx, and I remember that the keys are in the overhead compartment on the boat. So we drive to the marina, start loading up the boat, and I look in the overhead- no keys in there, either... so now my heart is pumping, and I can feel the aneurysm forming in my brain... we forgot the boat keys. We towed the boat all the way to Mexico without the freaking keys. Then my friend Trent calls out that he's found the boat-bag stuffed under the passenger seat in the truck... whew, crisis averted, although I still have no idea how it got under the passenger seat...?
So, we're off and on the water finally. Thursday fishing was not great (to say the least)- we hit the 12 mile reef to make bait and found nothing but small spotted bass, and a few spottail grunts. From there, we rolled out to the spot where I caught the 30 pound Pinto last May, and sure enough, there was a replacement Pinto there waiting to eat Ed's bait.
After waging war with an armada of triggerfish, we ran over and tried the 23. Nada. Sand dunes? good for one teeny tiny (I'm talking 12 inches long) Dorado and a couple more junk fish, so we turned tail and powered back to port, satisfied that at least the boat ran like a top all day.
Speaking of the boat- holy cow. going from that 20 foot skipjack to this 24 foot Mako on those choppy wind waves was like going from a Corvette to a Cadillac over a washboard road- the Mako cut through the chop like a dream, and we came in running 23 knots without any issues (or any back pain). Mako's claim to fame, the "driest ride on the water" will be put to the test in the Sea of Cortez, but we stayed high and dry all three days on this trip.
Friday morning we said "screw this bottom fishing crap" and ran over to the island and trolled up a mess of Sierra in the 5-10 pound range- a very fun light tackle day- we probably caught 20-30 fish.
Came into port on Friday night and ran into the "Reelhard" crew, DMcauley, Shawno and Tina, and Dave from Al Capones, so we joined them for some amazing food, great conversation, and WAY too much to drink. Later that evening we ran into Estero (Jim) and talked some more about my new boat, etc... It was great meeting and hanging out with all of you.
*** shameless commercial plug follows ***
The shrimp pizza at Al Capones is damn good. That's all there is to say. Awesome. Thanks to Scott for the recommendation, and Muchos Gracias to Dave for his hospitality- he's got a great place.
So Saturday rolls around, and with it a classic Saturday morning hangover (I'm no stranger to those.. I felt like I was back in my college days), and the boat is low on gas, so we ran out just a couple miles and loaded the coolers with spotted bass before heading in.
This is where the story should end, but of course more curveballs had to be thrown in to make the trip even more interesting- my trailer brakes were locked up, so the guys couldn't roll it down the ramp. An hour of head scratching, and finally some friendly persuasion with a 2 pound sledgehammer and we finally got the wheels rolling again.
Then some crazy old dude comes up and starts yacking with everyone- I thought he was there to meet Stuart, who had just come into port with Audi and Mark, and they though this crazy dude was with us, so nobody bothered to tell this whacky old coot to take a hike...
Mark: "I thought that guy was your dad"
Robert: "No, I thought he was YOUR dad..."
With our marina fees paid, we rolled out, gassed the truck, and made for home... but that STILL isn't where this story ends.... You'll have to check out the rest in the border crossing forum.
Here are a couple pics we snapped on the water:
Grabbed my friends, hooked up the boat and motored south last Wednesday. The drive was uneventful until the border, where those stupid over-kill speedbumps from hell snapped the U-bolts on one of the trailer's leaf springs. We rounded the corner in Sonoyta and found a shop and pulled in and by the grace of God this guy had enough U-bolts in various sizes to re-stock the world after World War III. Amazingly, they had us back on the road in 45 minutes for eighty bucks (they even gave us an extra set just in case any of the others were also getting ready to snap)- I swear, in the US that would have been a $250 job minimum, so we were double-stoked to be back on the road so quickly, and so cheaply.
Dropped the boat at Safe Marina, checked into the condo, and turned in early Wed for an early start to our fishing trip.
Thursday morning we were up at 5:00, jump in the truck, open the console to get my boat-bag out, and no boat keys. No boat registration, no nothing. So I replay the memories of loading everything in Phx, and I remember that the keys are in the overhead compartment on the boat. So we drive to the marina, start loading up the boat, and I look in the overhead- no keys in there, either... so now my heart is pumping, and I can feel the aneurysm forming in my brain... we forgot the boat keys. We towed the boat all the way to Mexico without the freaking keys. Then my friend Trent calls out that he's found the boat-bag stuffed under the passenger seat in the truck... whew, crisis averted, although I still have no idea how it got under the passenger seat...?
So, we're off and on the water finally. Thursday fishing was not great (to say the least)- we hit the 12 mile reef to make bait and found nothing but small spotted bass, and a few spottail grunts. From there, we rolled out to the spot where I caught the 30 pound Pinto last May, and sure enough, there was a replacement Pinto there waiting to eat Ed's bait.
After waging war with an armada of triggerfish, we ran over and tried the 23. Nada. Sand dunes? good for one teeny tiny (I'm talking 12 inches long) Dorado and a couple more junk fish, so we turned tail and powered back to port, satisfied that at least the boat ran like a top all day.
Speaking of the boat- holy cow. going from that 20 foot skipjack to this 24 foot Mako on those choppy wind waves was like going from a Corvette to a Cadillac over a washboard road- the Mako cut through the chop like a dream, and we came in running 23 knots without any issues (or any back pain). Mako's claim to fame, the "driest ride on the water" will be put to the test in the Sea of Cortez, but we stayed high and dry all three days on this trip.
Friday morning we said "screw this bottom fishing crap" and ran over to the island and trolled up a mess of Sierra in the 5-10 pound range- a very fun light tackle day- we probably caught 20-30 fish.
Came into port on Friday night and ran into the "Reelhard" crew, DMcauley, Shawno and Tina, and Dave from Al Capones, so we joined them for some amazing food, great conversation, and WAY too much to drink. Later that evening we ran into Estero (Jim) and talked some more about my new boat, etc... It was great meeting and hanging out with all of you.
*** shameless commercial plug follows ***
The shrimp pizza at Al Capones is damn good. That's all there is to say. Awesome. Thanks to Scott for the recommendation, and Muchos Gracias to Dave for his hospitality- he's got a great place.
So Saturday rolls around, and with it a classic Saturday morning hangover (I'm no stranger to those.. I felt like I was back in my college days), and the boat is low on gas, so we ran out just a couple miles and loaded the coolers with spotted bass before heading in.
This is where the story should end, but of course more curveballs had to be thrown in to make the trip even more interesting- my trailer brakes were locked up, so the guys couldn't roll it down the ramp. An hour of head scratching, and finally some friendly persuasion with a 2 pound sledgehammer and we finally got the wheels rolling again.
Then some crazy old dude comes up and starts yacking with everyone- I thought he was there to meet Stuart, who had just come into port with Audi and Mark, and they though this crazy dude was with us, so nobody bothered to tell this whacky old coot to take a hike...
Mark: "I thought that guy was your dad"
Robert: "No, I thought he was YOUR dad..."
With our marina fees paid, we rolled out, gassed the truck, and made for home... but that STILL isn't where this story ends.... You'll have to check out the rest in the border crossing forum.
Here are a couple pics we snapped on the water:
Last edited:
