I was lucky enough to go on a sail fishing trip to Mexico on a private yacht in 2004 with Thompson Cigars. I drove to their office in Tampa and boarded a small private plane. It landed in Isle Mejor, Mexico. I was with the operations manager and two other vendors that worked for them. One of the vendors was once in the Marines. He had a buzz cut, and I had long hair. We got into an argument that boarded on fists. I was very uncomfortable being around him. The fishing was world-class. The boat had a captain, a first mate, and a ship’s mate. We sat in the back under the shade, watching the deep blue water as tall fishing poles sat in long metal cups. Above us, in the sky, we flew some kite lines that kept the fishing lines far from the boat. Once a fish strikes, the kites detach, and the rod activates. When a giant sailfish is hooked, the captain backs up the boat. The whole thing was an art. The young ship’s mate, a local Mexican boy, carefully made the bait, perfectly tying a small fish with a leader line. The guys were drinking alcohol. I don’t drink. The boat created a sickly motor oil smell. The rolling seas were sickening. And as a fisherman, I found the whole exercise disappointing. I prefer backwater fishing. The next day, I decided to skip the boat. Instead, I got a golf cart and tooled around the island, drawing and painting. At the far corner of the island, a sculpture garden juts out into the ocean.
2004 Mexico
ISLA MUJERES
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