Guatemala went out with a bang, definitely not a whimper. With only two boats, I got to fish on both of them. Usually, with four boats, the instructors stay on the same boat for all four days, so we get to talk with and coach all of the students for a day.
Both skippers, Chico (TK) and Chris Scheeter, were top boat handlers, coming around upon a hookup and getting more bites and hookups than less skilled captains, who immediately clear the spread and start backing up. We had at least one quadruple hookup on sailfish and several triples on the boats I was on — impressive fishing. Each boat also got a nice blue marlin. (See my column in the next issue ofMarlin magazine.)
The day after we quit fishing was a long one for me: up early and on the road in the van at 7 a.m. for a 2½-hour ride to the airport; then a 2½-hour flight to Miami and an almost three-hour drive home to Stuart.
It was then time to head to a wedding in San Francisco. I checked mail, threw dirty clothes into the laundry pile, heated up leftover pasta for dinner, showered and packed for the trip. I almost took a nap before leaving but was afraid I might not wake up and would miss Erin’s niece’s wedding.
I left Stuart at 11 p.m. and drove to the Orlando airport, where I got a good two-hour nap in the car before going to security and heading for the gate, where I was listed as a standby on a nonstop to San Francisco. I almost made it! I got bumped at the last second and called Erin (already in California) on my cell phone. “Run, do not walk to gate 46! I just listed you on a Chicago flight!” was her response. I got the last seat on that plane and dozed for a short while on the 2½-hour flight. Two and a half hours was becoming a new standard length of time for me.
I got to Aunt Helen’s house in time to shower and change clothes and head to the hospital for the wedding. The bride was lovely, lying in the hospital bed in her wedding dress and high-heeled shoes but not allowed to sit up. With 40 or 50 people in the room, the two members of the string quartet who were there had to play in the bathroom. The cellist sitting on the loo gave new meaning to the name “chamber music.”
The reception was great, but I was fading fast after maybe three hours of naps in the past 36 hours, but I managed a few dances, great appetizers and a lovely meal. I crashed and burned sleeping (I am told with mouth open) while a whole gaggle of family females sat and chattered on the other side of the bed.
Well rested the next day, we visited the bride, had lunch and went to the airport, where three of us andall our luggage, including my computer and cell phone chargers, got on a flight to Denver.
The other three — my wife, Erin, my father-in-law, Don, and I — waited for the open seats on the very next flight. It then canceled 25 minutes before boarding time, due to winter storm Waldo, which was pounding Denver.
Aunt Helen, now known as “Super Helen the Wonderful” rescued us, took us to her home, fed us again, and the next morning took us to the airport, where we caught the flight and damn near froze to death in Denver trying to find the hidden truck key. We finally got to my in-laws’ house and crashed again.
Now on a bright sunshiny day, after a record low overnight of 4 degrees, we are ready to once again brave the world of standby travel in our attempts to get to Florida after people with real tickets from 500 canceled flights get taken care of. This “marry me and fly free” thing is not all roses!
I hope I made you laugh!
Good fishing,
Peter B. Wright
