Finding Panama
Music to Their Ears
Fish have lines that run laterally down their midsection, allowing them to detect movement and change in their environment. The lines relay messages about anything from dangers to their next meal, in some cases by sensing magnetic fields ...
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Finding Panama
Call it Lunch
Fishing anywhere, including Panama, often means spending a lot of time on a boat far from shore and out of reach. This equates to spending many hours in close confines with people you may or may not know very well. Adding these hours up ...
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Finding Panama
Arrivals and Departures
You get a first class outbound ticket, with visions of a cold gin and tonic in your hand, flying high above the azure waters of the Caribbean enroute to the jungle paradise of Panama. In your dreams, the stewardess is smoking-hot and ...
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Finding Panama
Sailing is Another World
Being at the crossroads of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, the country of Panama sees its fair share of boats. These boats include sportfishing boats, battleships, car carriers, grain ships, dredges, tugboats and the occasional ...
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Finding Panama
Gracie's Marlin
Gracie’s Marlin, all eleven hundred and fifty pounds or so of her, represented a pinnacle of sportfishing. It was, for all purposes, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Being an eclectic mix of luck, art and pure sweat ...
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Finding Panama
Baby / Marlin
My dad hates hospitals so when it comes to such events as delivering babies, which perch on the edge of happiness and mayhem, you’ll probably find him on the Picaflor rather than in Labor & Delivery. So it worked out well for ...
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Finding Panama
Fishing Mojo (Or Lack There Of)
When fishing in Panama, we are a very superstitious lot. After many years of spending time on the back of a boat, I have found that the success comes in spurts, where complete mayhem can overtake day’s worth of drilling holes in the ...
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Finding Panama
Fright Night
It was late in December and the rains of the Darien had barely subsided. Leaves large as a human heads floated on the surface of the blackened water at Mama Nido’s anchorage. The logs, interspersed in the debris, looked like crocodiles. ...
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