The rules for reading this blog are that you must keep a smile on your face at all times. I will attempt to be humorous, as our lives are filled with all sorts of funny things to pass along. At no time should you think I am being overly serious, unless I specifically give prior advisement of such. And so....
Today, as happens, we set a plan to depart for Mogo Mogo, scene of the popular television series, Survivor. It was so popular that I don't believe I ever watched an entire episode from start to finish. I do know tho, that this series went from exotic location to exotic location to film. Hilariously, as we've heard, had those "survivors" on said show simply walked to the other coast, they would have probably seen up to 30 boats happily bobbing at anchor, and within a stones throw of a week's worth of food, or survivor-type goodies. We had hoped to be there too, however our social schedule intruded.
A fellow cruiser showed up midday with tomorrow nights' dinner, in the shape of a whole, 8 pound mullet snapper. I say tomorrow, as Ron already had his heart set on bacon/fettucini alfredo, and woe be me, should I disappoint the captain. We've found the best way to fish is to do nothing. Someone will always swing by with the offer of something - we've had lobster, mahi mahi, yellowtail, just given to us, which is a good thing, in Martha Stewart's words. Ron and I would have much more svelte physiques if we were to rely on our fishing prowess. 3 years ago, we set off from Oregon, with several hand lines "guaranteed" to hook whatever was out there. Well let me tell you that 2500 miles later, we were still looking for that elusive dinner. Thanks Ray, on Nighthawk, for filling our fridge and bellies.
Because of this unexpected windfall, we needed to pay him back by plying him with beer, and we all settled in for a few hours of the best fish stories around. It was HOW big?! No wonder most fisherpeople are men, they know how to stretch the size thing and really work that angle.
Activity of the day turned out to be a running leap off the boarding ladder, bare 52 year old breasts trailing behind me, for the morning swim. I was a bit surprised as the outgoing tide carted me off, so my leisurely precoffee dunk ended up a flailing push for safety. Our anchored neighbors would have been just as shocked had I had to cling to their boat for my life. Modesty and fear gave me the edge to make it all the way back to the ladder.
As I said, this blog is about the good, the bad, and the OH SO UGLY. Aren't you glad there are no photos to post?