Back from Paradise

There is quite a difference between the weather in Metro Detroit and Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. When approaching DTW, looking out the aircraft window, I thought, "Man, when did Michigan get so sandy?" I knew we would be returning to winter, but the optimist in me thought March would bring temperatures on the up-swing. Yes, five new inches of snow briefly resembles a sandy beach from five thousand feet. Apparently seven days in paradise made me even more delusional. 

It goes without saying we (my fiancee and our friends) did more than our fair share of eating, lounging in the sun, and at times drinking a little more than necessary. That's fine. This is vacation. It's supposed to be relaxing. But in typical fashion with my inability to sit still, I struck out on my own for a little adventure.

One late morning I decided I had enough of just sitting in the sun, so I decided to take my small gear bag and 5-piece 9 foot 8 weight for a walk down the beach. We walked east for almost a mile to an outcrop of large rocks. I am not a seasoned salt angler, but think this might be a jetty (minus the outflow of a river). I placed the rod case and gear bag well onshore, on some rocks, and rigged-up in the same place. After choosing a chartreuse and white half and half, I started flipping the rod back and forth to extend some line. After only two flips I see some garbage/debris on my line. I can't seem to flick it off. At close inspection I learn that it is the tip of my rod. The nine foot rod is now about 8' 8". Guess I flipped the rod a little too far back, a little too close to those rocks. Ugh.

I don't even have a fly tied on yet. I didn't walk all this way and select this gear for the trip to not use it. I secure the small half and half on the five foot leader and decide to scramble up the slippery rocks pictured above.

After making three halfway decent casts with my new short rod, using one of those Orvis multi-tip lines (currently using an intermediate sink tip), I am caught off guard. I am not surprised by a rooster, jack caravelle, or even a small baitfish. This is me I'm talking about. 

I learn just how much the swells/waves can vary in the Pacific, even on these calm days. I made my first few casts 45 degrees down and across the direction of the beach. While focusing on my line and stripping retrieve, I was blind sided by a wave. It was substantially bigger than all the other calm waves, because I would not have climbed up those rocks if they looked like they were acting break walls. 

In the process, I get completely wet, head to toe, and lose my Ho'okipa Maui Jim sunglasses. My head falls and heart sinks.

"Cheap" travel rod breaks. Hundred bucks. Eh, not cool, but excuse to upgrade and expand arsenal.

"Cheap" Maui Jim sunglasses. I don't know. $150? $200? Ugh.

So far, in ten minutes, I am down two hundred and fifty dollars. Ok, maybe a little more than par for the course in my world. 

I just stand there on rocks, sopping wet, wondering what I should do. I want to continue fishing, but I am also not a fan of fly casting a heavy-ish line with heavy-ish flies without eye protection. This is me. I am generally unlucky, but I am also generally a careful, cautious person.

I remain on the rocks, looking around for several minutes. Trying to remind myself this trip was an unbelievable surprise gift to me and this little setback is nothing in the grand scheme of things. I look around to the west, wondering where in the washing machine of wave action those light, delicate sunnies could be. I turn around to the east and all of a sudden I see a small dark object, dancing in the surf. I excitedly jump down to investigate and lose sight of the object as soon as the next waves breaks in. Sigh.

Trying to calming my spirits, I remain in place and catch my breath. After another few minutes, five feet to my left sunglasses are washed up in the ankle deep water. I pounced on them like a cat on their mouse toy. 

I couldn't believe it. I felt like I found a hundred dollar bill in the ocean. I wondered what the lenses looked like after the sand action on them. Not good. Surprisingly not terrible, but still not good. All the scratches occurred at the edges, and not in the direct line of sight. 

I decided to continue fishing after all this. Turns out, the glasses were my only object to hand from the sea this day.

The following day, Wednesday Feb 26th, things would be a little different. 

One, fishing would not be done from the beach, but from the 23 foot, center console charter boat, Tres Marlins. 

Two, fishing would not be done with a fly (at least with this guy). 

More to follow.

Relaxing with my lady after a typical (for me) fishing outing