Hopping a fence didn’t bode well for Granny. Though an amazing outdoor woman and angler, she still grew up in New York City. When you’re a kid is when you learn the skills of climbing trees, jumping fences, crossing creeks and etc. She didn’t get that. On the way back to camp from dinner last night Granny got to the top of the Martin Verdugo’s gate which locks up after 10 PM and plummeted to the ground and landed on her casting shoulder. I tried to get her to go to Cabo for X-rays but she’s going to tough it out till we get home next week. Poor girl is miserable and likely won’t get her roosterfish this trip.
I wanted to hang back with Granny this morning but she insisted I do another jaunt in the boat with Gary Boyer. My mind wasn’t on fishing as much as it needed to be but I went. We were planning to head right back to the milkfish schools but today we couldn’t find them. Instead we found some oddball fish like this finescale triggerfish.
We also had a massive school of Panamic sergeant major’s (Abudefduf troschelii) feeding on plankton as if they were milkfish. We saw them yesterday but had no luck. Today we sort of ignored them and naturally I got one by accident on a tiny Crazy Charlie. A new species for my list and a real stunner for colors and overall look. The bluegill of the sea?
I couldn’t stop worrying about the girl so Gary and I headed in around 9:30 AM. Granny was up and moving slow – but moving. She thinks she’s knocked her arm out of socket. I think she may have broken something but she stubbornly insists on waiting until we get home to have it looked at.
Perhaps she’s right in dealing with it on her own for now. In the afternoon I decided to walk the beach and look for the roosterfish I put her on yesterday and she came with and even drank a lefthanded beer with me. Got to love Ben Gay and Advil.
I had exactly one cast today to two monster roosters. They were annihilating a school of ladyfish and after observing for 15 minutes because they were out of casting range, they finally came close. My fly landed exactly two feet in front of both of them when they were combs up and killing bait. A wave blocked my view but it didn’t matter. I knew my fly was there and started stripping, ready for all hell to break loose. Sadly, it didn’t and the last thing I saw was one of them hightailing it back for the deep. Bummer!
We’re about leave our luxury campground camp to head to town for dinner. Granny’s hurting but she continues to maintain that she will deal with it till we get home. And other than not casting anymore, she’s not letting the injury hold her back too much. Tomorrow we’ll leave Los Barriles for one more crack at roosters at my old favorite spot.
Hope you are OK, Granny.