The day after the weddin I went fishin with the boys. Rick, one of the 'boys', described our charter boat perfectly when he said he thought it was a being used as a planter on the beach. It wasn't. It had nothing but a motor and a plank for a seat. No radio, lifejackets, tools, or beer. The boat was captained by Raymond, a stressed out looking Quebecois who owned the motor, and first mate was Bertran, a very laid back Costa Rican who was still bleeding from wounds received in a motorcycle accident the night before, who owned the boat. The day was beautiful and the sky calm when we headed out with no worries.
One hour out and still trolling I hooked the big one. What excitement, The rod was almost bent in half and I was sweating with exertion, determined to bring in the first and the biggest. Rick had also had a strike and lost his just as he got it to the side of the boat. It was all me now. Fifteen minutes passed and everyone was excited and cheering me on. Raymond announced that it was probably a 100 pounder. Cool! Then Raymond announced El Roca! I did not know what kind of fish this was but I did not care, I just wanted to land it and celebrate as great hunters do. Well the simple translation of El Roca is a rock and that's what I had hooked. All my effort was simply reeling the boat backwards to the rocks which at this point were only a few feet below the boat and not far from a reef with huge waves crashing over it. We got the lure free and escaped only to hear Bertran explaining to Raymond, neither of whom really understood each other, that the engine was malfunctioning. They fixed this with a piece of fishing string and we were fishin again.
We rolled in circles for a while since this was THE place for fish. Finally Rick hooked a good size tuna-like fish and then Otto caught a Laguna, a pencil shaped fish with a long snout filled with razor sharp teeth. The sun had set by this point and it was time to head in. That's when we noticed the storm clouds and the lightning and the quickly darkening sky. Raymond booted the motor up to top speed and the closer we got to Samara, the worse the winds and waves became.
This of course didn't stop Bertran from gutting and filleting the fish in the dark with a very sharp knife as we bounced around the waves. The storm's tempo increased, we were getting very wet from the rain and the waves breaking near us, and the lights of Samara seemed miles away and fading into the storm. I fantasized about losing the groom to the sea and being in deep trouble with his new bride.
Finally we entered the bay in the pitch black, no longer heading into the storm but running from it. We really got it now! Pouring rain, high winds, waves and spray coming over the sides and soaking us further. Since I am writing this we obviously made it to shore safely. We did and very happy about it too. Much beer was consumed later at the villa and the tales retold (with the fish getting bigger all the time) to celebrate the adventura muy buena.
