my POC and Poco Bueno report - 2CoolFishing
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Old 07-22-2008, 01:31 PM   #1
2lazy2fish
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my POC and Poco Bueno report

so most of the normal crew was in POC for Poco Bueno either fishing the inshore part or just fishing and enjoying the festivities.

get down Thursday afternoon after waiting a full 25 minutes for that stupid train in Bloomington that pulls slower than I walk (and I walk s-l-o-w). oh, and happy happy joy joy, it actually stopped for a little while. thanks for that conductor. drop my stuff off at the lodge and head to Clark's for the shallowsport pickup. I'd gotten the call "bring beer, leave your rods" so pack up a Yeti 50 with appropriate beverages (and snacks) and find me a front row parking spot. wave to grey beard the parking attendant "meetin the boys!" while almost running over a trailer and blaring JT's "I'm Bringin Sexy Back" is a grand entrance. trudge across the lot and trip over an oyster shell. drop the cooler. glad the boys didnt see that. grey beard shakes his head in disgust. try to slip him a hamilton as I say "keep a watch on her" and he just turns and walks away. climb on the boat, high fives and chest bumps.....commence booze cruise! check out some truly awesome boats and we discuss exactly why we're (obviously) in the wrong line of work and who needs to step up for a reel purchase. (reel...get it?) decide we need some PB (that's 'poco bueno') merchandise so pull in next to some bigguns. cheesy the deckhand is standing close by. "hey brother, think you can slide your boat over? shallowsport here trying to tie up". he snorts in our general direction and flips a smoke at us. guess not. so buddy and I step off and walk over to the tent for some goodies. "hey sweets, hand me a couple of those classics, some of those, few of these, some koozies and a hat" (gotta represent back in A Town). get the bill and choke as I empty my wallet. "I'll need that receipt sweets, old ball and chain, you know". walk away with a bag of PB goods and the sinking feeling my wife is going to kill me. but its worth it. when I hit Academy in a Poco Bueno tshirt, people will know what's up. back on the boat for some more cruising and its back to the house for some lasanga. sorry about eating half of your share T, gotta fuel the machine.

captain wakes me up at 5:45 to go fishing. this was after the first round woke up at 5:00 to go fish PB. "what the hell? are we fishing PB ourselves?" to which the captain responds "do you hunt Los Cazadores"? well no, why? "dont you wake up early to deer hunt"? ****. I hate him. fumble around getting dressed, taking care of business, loading my junk on the boat, etc. well hell....here's more business. "yall hang on....lasanga's talkin to me". gettin ready to head to Josies and see part of our PB crew (that's supposed to be gone fishin the tourney already). "forgot our rods". yeah, that crew's off to a grand start. driver drops the boat in at Clarks as I'm workin my taco and coffee. I really love Josie's tacos. starts a morning right. see the yellow bait flag upside down and head for the good stuff. "hey salty, remember me?" bait guy just stares at me. "fresh dead in the cooler brother, and dont go skimpin on the size now". blow out of the basin like a bat outta hell and almost lose my hat while spilling coffee on myself. notice salty taking the flag down, and turning it right-side up. hit it just in time! throttle's pinned and the 115 is talkin. "jeez guys, have yall gotten fatter?". somehow I think that's directed at me and give the captain a finger while a piece of taco egg falls off my face into my coffee.

blast thru two cuts and turn right past the old coast guard station. couple dudes with a flag on their console waving at us. why do they have a skier down out here? anyways, stop and push those boys off a sandbar. when they give the obligatory "what can we do for ya?" question, holler back (without turning around) "when they ask, tell'um the legend pushed ya off". not real sure what that means, but the suns coming up and made the setting seem right. right up until I slip on the deck getting back into the shallowsport and go down on one knee. hard. boys dont notice so pop up and make a quick remark "wonder if those imports are gonna run aground again?". we wont. captain knows what he's doing. so go blowing back into the pocket we're heading to and get ready. you can hear the surf just over the sand and she sounds rough. go for the anchor and captain says "dont need it....check it". pushes the button and the power pole goes down. "SWEET!" and high five captain. then wonder how I didnt notice that. clean the glasses and light a smoke before stepping off the back of the boat. must have been a fish breeding hole or something as I miss-judge the depth and fall in. that's just great. "someone have that removed!" I holler to the boys (already fishing at this point) thru wet/salty glasses and a soggy smoke. they're laughing. I'm a funny dude.

go on an epic wade and load up the treble about 50 feet from the boat. long cast (freshly cleaned calcutta) and my rig splashed down between me and the boat. fish hard for a while and daydream of big boats. see the dayglow green line twitch and set the hook. feel a little pull and set the hook again with a loud "BAM!" to let the boys know I'm on. not sure if they have fish or not, but their stringers are already out and bobbing. oh well. pull in a solid 17" trout and try to grab it bare handed. ole snaggle tooth flips around and I get a glancing blow of the hook in the web of my hand. curse loudly. grab the double floatied boga and lip the little bastard. try to remember my genius idea of a quick release stringer tie from my belt and wind up spending the next 5 minutes unknotting my stringer, holding my rod in my teeth and the boga under one arm. retarded. string him up and get my treble back. load another fine specimen of fresh dead on the hook (double hooked, yall noticed that last time, right?) another solid cast into the water and I'm ready to slay'em again. admire the surroundings. sun coming up, boys working their rods and decide a comment is in order. "boys...I needed this...been workin my tail off lately". responses of "you dont work" and "you're the laziest person I know" are NOT noticed by me. bout that time by sixth sense alarm goes off. about 5 feet from me, the trout on my stinger decides to lose the back 1/3 of himself to a freakin shark. ole toothy is staring at me like "thanks, jerky" while he gobbles a bite. toothy's about 4ish feet long and hungry, so I'm not a happy guy. good thing we're in the water or the boys would notice the front of the board shorts are wet. ever seen that part of "The Toy" with Richard Pryor where he walks on water? yeah, that was me going back to the boat. chainsmoke me a few and calm the nerves. shoot a pic of the eaten trout to bassy back home and get the response "that's the last time you're getting out off the boat". thats funny bassy. and chill for a while. then get hit with dehydration for a while. what a day! boys have lunch on the boat and go back for some more trout. P is putting on a clinic of how to catch every species in the water and the captain and T are stringing nice fish.

bite turns on later than expected and I'm back in the water. walk out from the boat with my rod swatting the water like some kind of aborigine beating snakes out of the bush. not sure why, but makes me feel better. look at the boys and they're laughing. "toothy has the taste....dont wanna be dessert!" they dont stop laughing. jerks. they each get a finger as I swear I hear that **** jaws music. anyways, short time later I'm on another solid fish. bowed up, you know. but he's no match for the 7'6" waterloo. he runs down to the right some and I'm followin with my body. rouge wave tries to capsize me as I drink about half a gallon of salt water. cough and try not to vomit the gatorade I pounded while ago. realize the fish is still on. **** I'm good! realize my wading belt is not. ****! start trying to re-attach the belt to my waist and hold the rod high to keep the fish on (good thing she's a long rod, its like an outrigger you know). get put back together and realize I've lost some equipment from my belt. knife and a solid handful of tackle have been donated to the water. great. thanks for that mother nature. string my fish and nervously look for toothy. pitch the fish to the end of my custom 30' stringer to keep any sharks away from dessert (me) like some kind of russian woman shot-putter with a 3 day beard. my dislike of sharks are now at an all time high.

struggle thru some more fish and holler at the boys. "yall got room for me to put more fish on your stingers?" nope. they're already limited. "better not have been keepin anything under 16" cuz daddy here is killin'em". get back to the boat and unload the stringer into the cooler. "boys....that's a solid day....4 limits will do it!". high fives and chest bumps. T almost falls off the boat. good times.

runnin back in we see cool stuff. big balls of bait, flying manta ray, baby triple tails. yep, this is a good place to be. get to the cleaning station at clarks and start talkin. "you boys need to make room.....heavy cooler coming in". look for a high five. anyone? my boys apparently didnt hear me. adjust my hat. captain works a filet knife like one of those fellas at the chinese joint. only less noise and more stuff flipping around. I'm on boat holding duty and talkin it up to those walking around the docks. I'm glad its PB weekend so there's plenty of ears to listen. people loadin boats up get my hail call "yall hit'em today like we did?" regardless of their answer "yall shoulda been there. limits, round the horn!" and give my patented arm sweeping motion. get the boat on the trailer and head to the lodge with 4 gallon ziplocks full of trout filets. solid day. about 4:30 pick up a voicemail from our PB crew. they're stuck. with a giant stringer. weigh-ins almost over and they're not moving. and a week and a half away. oh man that sucks.

king ranch casserole for dinner, and all the boys are eating before me. "yall cant wait on a brother?". pour a big glass of red and settle down. early to bed after a long day stringing trout. all that relaxation sure takes it out of a man.

5:30 the captain is in there waking me up again. "what the hell? two days of tournament fishing?". apparently captain thinks it a good idea that if we're gonna fish close, we need to get out early. "fine! but if we pass josies you and me are going round". only thing that makes me feel better about the situation is when the "state dog of Texas" does a belly flop onto P in bed, thuroughly racking him. I giggle. gather stuff in the dark, then head back inside for a second round of business. ridiculous. same story, second verse. this time, blast out thru the little jetties. make 'hammer down' motions to the big centerconsole with trips, then switch to fist pumps. that whole crew just looks at me, kinda confused. like I'm at a nascar race or something. I guess they bumped it up a notch as they left the jetties and I turn to the boys "I'm droppin the hammer, harry". no look high five from P turns in to a no high five from P. "no you're not". grumpy. drink your coffee. head out a little ways to the first island kinda to the left and drop the pole. "lets get it on!" couple of the boys go deep, me and the captain head shallow. admire the sunrise and a bird on a duckblind. mention to the bird "fluffy....if I get a grumble, you best just show me tailfeathers cuz I'll need your spot". giggle to myself. trip over a clump of oysters and **** near fall in. prolly should pay more attention. captain waves. points to a spot in the water, two fingers to his eyes, then waves sorta, makes a casting motion, then points again at the water, then back to me, makes a walking motion with his fingers, tugs his ear, brushes his pants......"what in the hell are you doing? we're fishing, not trying to steal third base!" I scream at him. he gives me the finger then puts another finger over his lips. I look....OH!! tailing reds. better be quiet and get my sneak on. gently slosh over within reach. cast hard and far. and far to the right about 15 feet. this sucks. whisper "**** wind" at captain trying to put me on them, with a sheepish grin. he looks at me and mouths "you suck at casting". mumble "that's what she said" under my breath. reel in. cast again. fist pump twice as my rig lands right in the pod. immediately I'm on something. "BAM!" its automatic, you know. reel her in and its a dink trout. "I'm so good, I sight cast to trout!" captain stares at me blankly. points at me, then points back at the tails. "oh" luckily I'm quick getting this one off the hooks. look around for toothy or a cousin and drop the dink back in. set myself up for another cast.....KaCHOW! right back in the action. nod towards the cast looking at captain. his look says it all. "yeah, you rock....now fish, stupid". he's a grumpy captain sometimes. twitching green mono....BAM! "I am so on, its sick!!" captain points out something. "you cast bait into a feeding school of reds, what do you expect?". grumpy captain obvious. reel this bad boy in. puts up a great fight and I get him in. grab the boga....this guy's not leavin me. lip him and as I pull him out, proclaim "spartans! prepare for glory!". he's a beautiful bronze color. and 19 inches. well hell. repeat this approximately 5 or 6 more times (losing 3 or 4) and all are undersized. but grumpy captain obvious and I chase a couple schools of tailers for a while. VERY cool. T's gotta get home to the fam, so we call it an early day. back to the docks and leave the boat in. say goodbye to T and get a short nap. gotta rest the machine for the PB banquet later.

rise around 2 and head to the beach. no rods on board, just coolers and lots of attitude. hang out and have some cold dudes, telling stories. everyone loves my shark story. I repeat it to anyone that'll listen. (or just look my way) get another good story from a new buddy "coon". craziness. guess you gotta "know people". head in to watch weigh-in from the boat. meet up with the PB crew. they weighed in some decent fish. good for them. wish they coulda weighed in both days. good fishermen, these boys. even though I dont really get how they fish sometimes. wavin their rods around with that heavy floating line. just silly looking to the experienced angler such as myself. watch Wasabi hang a big bill. solid fish. decide to head in and get showered up for the banquet. later on, hit the banquet like a small tornado. tikki at the entrance asks "you have your bracelet". look at her and smile "nope, I dont play poker with those folks in vegas, I gamble every day at the office" and smile big. she looks at me. "no, your green bracelet to get in". oh. yeah, I was wondering what that was for. snap it on and holler out "spring break oh eight boys!" go up for a no look high five and receive it back from some wasted high school kid that needs a haircut. which is kinda weird. then we pound fists and blow it up. pimples smiles big and shows more metal in his grill than my truck. "later bra" he says. good kid. chow on the grub and start sucking back the coctails. socialize. tell my shark story some more. high five the teams that do well. hunt some with the camera. coctails and listen to the band. cant hear the award announcements, but seems good. congrats to T and T for second place trout. solid finish! coctails. "boys, some real talent around here this evening....reminds me of home". I get looked at weird. I drink. someone suggests that if the madden monsters head over now, we might be able to score a table before the crowd hits. so we depart the banquet and head to the home field. front row parking like a rockstar in the benzo. line out the door. slide up to my man at the door and palm a twenty. he says "fire code brother, one in, one out". I open my palm a little to make sure he sees what's up and say loudly "dont you know who I am?" that should handle it. he replies "yeah, you're the guy that got scared out of the water by an ankle biter and sat in the boat for an hour". yeah, well you werent there! "boys, joints full, gotta rock the party somewheres else". back to the banquet and close her down.

solid weekend. good times had by all. slayed the trout, didnt get eaten, and funny stories abound.
if you know anyone from discovery channel that wants to interview me for shark week, hook a brother up. I'll even re-inact. not with a live shark obviously. I dont want to pee myself again.

as always, I'd like to thank my sponsors. new sponsor pocstyle.com stepped up (thanks for the shirts B), shallowsport boats, yeti coolers, waterloo rods, shimano reels, craigslist, oakley, academy, coors light, super swamper tires and blackberry phones.
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Old 07-22-2008, 01:33 PM   #2
txshrkfish
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great report
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Old 07-22-2008, 01:45 PM   #3
Aggieangler
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LOL....I'll never get that 20 minutes back! ROFL
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Old 07-22-2008, 01:49 PM   #4
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lol
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Old 07-22-2008, 01:53 PM   #5
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LOL, great report. Sounded like a Kelly Parks rant for a while there .
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Old 07-22-2008, 02:05 PM   #6
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How would J and P have done if they had been entered in PB?
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Old 07-22-2008, 03:34 PM   #7
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Hey 1985 called and he wants his glasses back
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Old 07-22-2008, 03:59 PM   #8
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ha ha ha ha ... good read ... !
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Old 07-22-2008, 04:42 PM   #9
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HAHAHA

Man that's some good stuff right there. You had me in tears a few times.
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Old 07-22-2008, 06:06 PM   #10
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Man I love Josies Tacos. Great report, just wish I had one of thoses tacos while I was reading the report.
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