more moRE MORE

Day 6 – Thieving tuna and reef action! – Blake and Vanessa went out with us for a day chasing tuna and chillin’ on the beach. Mrs. Mingo chilled while Vanessa grabbed the rod for her first fish of the day……





Mi esposa with a cute little skipjack.....



This was a costly day for Blake……with a school of yellowfin all around the boat, we were casting from opposite sides of the stern when he hooked a hot fish. It tore out so fast that the handle of his reel caught and ripped his thumb so hard it sprained it. He took his left hand off the reel for just a second and that was all it took. This was like a Bugs Bunny cartoon unfolding right before our eyes. His rod is ripped from his hands and streaks away from the boat. Blake yelled out “NO [censored] WAY!” and dove in after his gear. The fish swam faster and he didn’t see anything but the blue streak of his TFO Bluewater going down down down to the briny depths……………….







My little bro needed a beer after that ordeal…..

At one point we had some huge fish swirling, crashing and blasting bait all around the boat. I was thinking back to my sailfish incident so I wanted to be ready....no sails, but this little guy was pretty ambitious....he came up and attacked my big billfish popper!





Who’s ready for another beer?

A little time spent working the gorgeous Panamanian shoreline……

This guy schooled my arse and rocked me…….byebye popper!!!!! If you have never caught a trevally, I highly recommend trying……you WILL be impressed.



Back to the mothership for lunch and some chill time with the gang…………….





Waiting to go snorkeling and flyfishing. Blake is as bad as I am, he can’t stop fishing!!



Our own private blue lagoon for the afternoon…………………….



Getting ready to hit the water before fishing ……



Want a beer honey?







Once we were back on the Koffler, Blake and I started fishing ………….



I had a hookup on a small popper, and as I was fighting the fish, something slammed hard into my cranium and put me down on the deck. It felt like someone smacked me upside the head with a ballpeen hammer. I don’t think I’ve been hit that hard since Sister Madeline split my lip in the 2nd grade. Blake had accidentally double-hauled his clouser right into my temple. Being the diehard he is, he kept casting, but would occasionally stop and ask if I was okay. He did change to a “softer” fly. Thanks brother. Camillo came and pulled the hook from my head. Not too bad…..just a little spot of blood on the hat to keep the dried sea salt company. It was time to coagulate, man up and keep fishing!



We kept hitting lookdowns on almost every cast for another 15 minutes……



They were super aggressive and so many would compete for our flies that this happened a few times………



I kept casting while watching Blake out of the corner of my eye……



As I was pop-pop-popping my fly in, a huge head appeared and Hoovered it in. The fish tore out at hyperspeed……



“OOOOOOOOOO sh!t! This ain’t no lookdown!”



Raw power on a 10 wt……heart-pumping brute strength and a very bad attitude…..





Success!

Scheeewwweeeet!!! Sweet! Schweeeeeeettt!!!

Epic adventure...wish I was fishin.

Day 7 – Stam and the Mingos: A pleasant surprise and a meeting with destiny – Steve headed out with us this day to chase marlin, yellowfin and anything else we might find that wanted to fight. We settled in for the bumpy, grinding run out to the Hannibal banks again. Lumbars were punished, spines were compressed, faces were splashed with buckets of water and the sky was as blue as it could possibly be. We were in heaven. When we got out to the grounds Stam and I started tossing metal jigs on spinning rods since we needed 2 to 5 pound skipjacks to use as bridled marlin baits while the crew set out the trolling spread. Stam and I kept tossing jigs, picking up the odd skipjack and bonito. We came upon another school of what we thought were skippies crushing bait on the surface. I tossed my metal jig into the melee and got a very nice surprise…..





This bastard could really pull, it was easily one of the top light tackle dorado battles of my life……….



I’d get him up and he’d go right back down…..not the typical dorado battle at all……..





The gears on the spinning reel ground to a nauseating, clack-clack-clack halt as the fish sounded under the boat. The battle lasted at least 20 minutes longer than it would have if the gears had not burned out but it was well worth the grind. These guys can flatass PULL!!!!!





This battle was worthy of a double “O”……..



Nope, it needed the rare triple “O”



And then my bro Stam had a date with destiny…….a leviathan of the deep came up to crash the party and the battle was on! Stam posted some of these shots earlier. This was an epic battle.

Stam in happier times……..



He asked me to take over for a while so he could hydrate and rest……….



Then after 20 minutes of intense H2o and cerveza hydration, Stam came charging back to finish off the brute………….



The trophy of a lifetime came up to the boat as Stam ground it out inch by agonizing inch………the fight was brutal, it was down and dirty and worth every moment of agony!









Noni “El Beisbol” winds up and delivers a Sammy Sosa telegram……..





Victory lap around the boat……



Aggressive skipjack were everywhere…..I still can’t believe they would hit my big sailfish flies…..



After the celebration of the great tuna, Mrs. Mingo hit a gorgeous dorado and fought the beast like a champ…

Post-fishing snack, Panama style!




“It’s too late to go flyfishing for jacks Mingo, we’ll hit it tomorrow” – Stam was enjoying the afterglow of his best-ever tuna battle once we were back on the ship, so much so that he at first turned down a chance to go flyfishing with me for jacks! “Are you kidding me? C’mon man, we’re loading the boat, let’s go Stam!” “Aww…..alright!” Stam grabbed his flyrod ………. But I noticed he also had a deathgrip on his spinning rod loaded with a huge popper. He did not know it yet, but his day was about to get even better. Over at the reef I hooked a trevally that ate a crease fly……………………….





Then Stam tossed his giant popper up tight to the shoreline….Chug-sploosh chug-sploosh chug-sploosh WHAM!!!!! Game on! He was tight to a hot cubera snapper that worked him all around the boat like a kid on a merry-go-round. It was awesome to witness yet another epic Stam battle with one of these prehistoric beasties! After 20 minutes, his toasted tuna-weary arms finally worked the massive snapper to boat…….



Back on board we feasted on platters of fresh sashimi and ice cold beers as a tuneup to our evening meal of seared yellowfin steaks, courtesy of Stam. ….



“That was a pretty big freakin’ tuna, wasn’t it?” – Stam ogles his pictures as Blake gets reacquainted with his girlfriend……..



Dessert anyone?????



We polished off three bottles of rum, dozens of beers and several bottles of wine. Everyone was glassy-eyed and goofy and Stam had the quote of the evening --- “tomorrow, I may have to uncork the Pendleton, blow the doors off this joint and do some partying”. Telling a gang of drunken pirates that the next day could involve more alcohol? Priceless.

Too Cool !!!


Enjoy Rehab...

Day 8 – Roosters, jacks and a very happy ending – Robbo, Blake and the Mingos headed out to the Rooster Pen, a spot known for holding trophy roosterfish. We hoped to repeat the bait and switch success Robbo and I had found on Day 4 so Blake could get in on some of that wildness, and Rob was in search of his 50+ pound trophy Pez Gallo. Blake had already hooked and lost a 20 pound rooster on his 12 wt two days earlier. I just wanted to catch whatever I could. The morning bite was on as we saw schools of fish chasing bait on the surface. I cast right into a swirl and hooked a a jack crevalle





Rob took this stubborn jack next……..



And I hooked another trevally….. This bluefin put up one SWEEEEEEETASS battle!!!



Blake cashes in with a trevally on the fly………………….





After the early morning flurry, we settled in for a hot sweaty day tossing poppers to tease the fish in close enough to get them on the fly. Rob was on his own quest for a monster roosterfish. He wanted a brute and he worked his ASS off for it. The man is a nonstop casting machine. He wasn't tossing 1/4 oz krocodile spoons or some other cueco lure, he was pitching massive poppers for hours on end trying to hook something big. Blake and I became little budgie birds on the hippos back, benefitting from Rob’s nonstop casting and retrieving. We split the lanes and duplicated the technique Rob and I used earlier in the week. I took the bow and Blake took the stern….I figured my head would appreciate the spatial separation

Rob lured a HUGE cubera from a boiler rock and Blake actually hooked it for 15 seconds on his 10 wt......we were all screaming like little bitches when the giant coppery garbage can turned after Rob yanked his popper away and inhaled Blake’s fly. The fish went into convulsive full-body twisting headshakes that were almost scary to witness. This brute was at least 25 pounds heavier than the fish Stam had landed the previous night on a spinning rod.

Rob took the middle position in the Koffler while my wife shot photos and tended the beer cooler. I shot my backcasts into the rocks. Thanks to Rob's bionic shoulder, we each had shots at BIIIIIG roosters that would follow but turn away at the last second. Agonizing to witness, but you should have heard the chatter...."Here he comes! He's all over it! CAST! CAST! GET YOUR F’ing FLY IN THE WATER! HERE HE COMES! HOLY [censored]!! HE'S ON IT! HE'S ON IT!"

Blake started laughing. He runs a successful company and he said "you assholes! I'm not used to being yelled at like this, heh....jes' keep 'em coming…….F’ers!!!!"

Blake hooked up to a hard pulling jack lured in by the expert tease technique of Robbo…….



Then took a little break to chill and have a beer with my wife……

Flycasting from the bow of a boat bobbing around in tall waves, swirls and boiler rocks is like trying to hit a small target while standing on a mechanical bull set on high. I did almost lose my balance a couple times.....I have legs covered with bruises from it. It was awesome. You never knew when or from where the hits would come. We all worked our butts off. Every fish, every follow, every strike was earned. At one point both Rob and I were tossing the poppers and we'd be pulling fish toward Blake from two directions....Robbo and I would yelling "BLAKE! BLAKE! GET YOUR FLY OVER HERE! BLAKE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? BLAKE WHAT THE HELL? CAST HERE! HERE! HERE HE IS!!! Sometimes we would simply run out of room as the fish would practically slam into the side of the Koffler chasing our flies. Robbo used a musky "figure eight" once to hook a big snapper that attacked his popper literally 6 inches from the side of the boat. Amazing.

2:30 PM……. almost time to go in and call it a great adventure. My wrist and elbows were aching from hours of casting my stiff 12 wt flyrod. I grabbed my spinning rod and started hucking big poppers again. Robbo and Blake were both chugging Balboas. Fatigue set in from hour after hour of nonstop casting. Blake whined about sore wrists and shoulders. Mrs. Mingo was the world's best bartender, making sure we were all well hydrated with nonstop beers. What do you think happened? Of course. With those guys totally spent, I had a GIANT rooster follow my popper on the first cast. Rob saw it (his 6’8” sitting position is the same height as my 5’8” tiptoe position). It swirled once and missed my lure 10 feet from the boat. Rob immediately sprang up and started casting again, Blake stripped line from his reel and we were back in action. Another huge rooster comes in….Blake casts…the fish follows…and turns away. Nada. Finally Camillo says "5 minutes more, okay, guys?" Cool.

I made one final cast to a boiling cluster of rocks………….



I popped my lure twice and had a massive strike from a bluefin trevally. My drag was clamped down tight and he STILL took line. He bulldogged me hard left, then straight down, then up. Robbo was standing up on the console rail and had the best vantage point.





My jack zipped right and wrapped me around two rock formations. "Mingo! Hand me your rod, I see where he is!" I gave Rob my stick and he and Camillo played cat and mouse with the fish for over 15 minutes, trying to unwrap the line. My Saltiga reel was a gift from my awesome Hawaiian brother Jon Yoshihara. Jon had set it up with his favorite 80 pound braid and a long 80 pound leader, the exact same system he uses when he chases giant trevally in Fiji. I was set up with the best possible terminal rigging thanks to his expertise, and we would have lost the fish if not for this setup and Rob’s keen eyes and experience in this fishery…….





After many nerve-wracking minutes Rob yelled "He's off! Mingus!!! Mingo!! He's free bro!” as he handed the wildly bucking rod back to me. Another 15 minutes of serious tug 'o war and we caught and released this beauty. An awesome end to a great day!







Back on board, Blake and I celebrated the trip with the Slappy Dance……..



Her fish was immediately sliced into a mouth-watering snack platter by Jose “El Huevos”…….



When a girl needs a nap, she needs a place to rest her head…………………..



The gang chillin’, enjoying cold beers and the warm Panamanian sun………



Thanks for the awesome 50th birthday present honey! I can’t wait to go back!!



The gang enjoying our final Panama sunset……………until next year.



Thanks for a great adventure my friends!

------------------------------------------------------------

Grab life by the nuts. It’s the only one you get.

Awesome as always Mingo.....

Whew, what a wild ride !



Mingus narrated madness w/ a Kodachrome finish, gotta love it............



c/22

Mingo---awesome play by play, make me feel as if I was there with you folks!

Nothing more to say other than.............

well done Ming>>>>O

Thanks for the awesome picture show! Looks like a wonderful birthday present.

great

That was really great. You can feel the heat in the photos and it looks like you had a great group....

If you give me another Balboa, I promise not to double-haul another clouser into your head...

But just think, Robbo is still there! Lucky cueco...