I am an author, an angler, and an adventurer. I am here to share my stories with you. If you want to experience the inner poetry of the outer wilds, follow me, and I will take you there.
The Chase Is On: Finding Albacore
North Carolina is a romantic coast. Pale windswept dunes covered with waving sea oats and diagonally reaching juniper trees stir a solemn melancholy in the spirit. This is truly art in nature, which the human hand attempts but rarely perfects to such measure. The encroachment of civilization feels luckless. The white sands and clear water…
Mighty Warrior
“Fuego!” And thus Vicente Guerreo’s life–though not his legacy–ended by firing squad in 1831. Guerrero, hero of Mexico’s war for independence with Spain, abolished slavery in 1829 as the country’s second president. But known for his hot-blooded personality, he was deposed by coupe after only nine months in office. In 1971, the General Vincente Guerrero…
Fish Colombia? Yes, Yes You Can
For every great fishery in the Americas, there has been a golden era. Whether you are fishing off the Florida Keys or Central America, life has changed in the last generation. Encroachment from resort living onto what was wild habitat, increased commercial and recreational fishing, and a general increase in the population of fishermen who…
The River of Silver Kings
Tarpon Fishing in Costa Rica I still think of the old painting from time to time. In a quiet, intuitive moment it will spread across the whole frontal view from the Captain Kirk’s chair of my mind. Renown historically as the first record of the fishing reel, I described it in an article on the…
Weekend in Mexico
Outside some white patches of the unreasonable, unseasonable snow persisted. Wet and cold, leaves plummeted down like lumps of plutonium. Not Robert Frost swirling, but more like Charles Bukowski depression poetry. Raking them would be like pulling up iron ore. And what about my regular fishing trips to Central and South America? Business was too…
Escape to Mexico
Business had been good since moving into these new offices. So good, in fact, it was…dictatorial. I sat there alone. It was getting late with work still piled on the desktop. My usual long-range fishing trips to Central and South America had been pushed back and back. Where had they gone? Modern clocks don’t tick…