Birth of a 'yak angler

Random redfish picture, just so y'all know where my head is at.
(Taken at SC Aquarium, which is an awesome place)

Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing- absolutely nothing- half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. - Kenneth Grahame

Bringing home my new Diablo Paddlesports' Chupacabra marked the end of an era: the Magnificent Basstard is for sale.

Note #1: I reverted back to calling it the Magnificent Basstard from The Aluminum Bastard since it's for sale.
Note #2: selling the boat would be a lot easier if I wasn't in Nunavut until late August.

A little piece of my brain was whispering about the adventures I could have with both The Magnificent Basstard (henceforth "the MB") and the Chupacabra paired up as part of an amphibious fly fishing strike force of awesomeness.

Common sense (and a promise to my lovely girlfriend) has won out; I will bid adieu to the MB as soon as a buyer is found. In fact, a few interested souls have already come forward.

I weighed the options of buying a fishing kayak last year, but the summer slipped by way too fast. I was away working a fair bit and next thing I knew it was September. And when October rolled around, I ended up buying the MB...and then promptly went to Idaho to work for the entire month.

Desires for a fishing kayak reared its head again in the spring, but having the MB and a trip booked to Belize in September kept any and all kayak delusions in check. It came down to simple economics: kayaks are sort of expensive.

A boat owner is a special breed of person. I battled with truck repairs, learning to back up with a trailer hitched, boat covers that collected more rainwater than they shed, parking issues, and a trailer that requires a little bit of servicing to pass inspection. As the summer once again started sliding past, I very calmly*, with no cursing whatsoever**, concluded I am not that breed of person. Not yet, anyway.

* - This is a lie.
** - This is not a lie, but replace 'doghouse' with 'boat trailer' in this video here.

Owning a powerboat, with the associated time, money and responsibilities that go with it just isn't for me at this current stage of my life.

Note #3: Without question, the MB itself is a great boat. My truck and the boat trailer have caused me all of my boating woes, with my work schedule being the main contributing factor to why the boat lies fallow.

Sea trials on Lake Sebago, Maine

But I still wanted (needed?) to be on the water.

The kayak had definite merits (many of which I told my lovely girlfriend). No trailer to worry about towing, parking space or government inspections. No gas bills. No possible future mechanical failures. No insurance. No lower unit to worry about in shallow water.

Less worry. Less hassle. Less money. All possible in less water.

Plus excuses for (lots of) physical activity under the guise of fishing and to build and rig things like storage out of milk crates and push-poles out of PVC.

Note #4: the word 'accessories' takes on whole new levels of awesomeness why you combine the words 'kayak' and 'fishing.'

Yes, I think a kayak is more my style.

Note #5: Especially if your talking about living room style:

Boat parking issues are SOLVED!

Friday Post of Randomness

This one's covering a lot of topics, so grab a coffee, sit back and relax.

I'll do y'all a favour & put the music first, so you can click that on to enhance to your reading pleasure.

Without further ado...

The Dirtiest, Greasiest Blues I've Heard in a Long Time Award goes to...

...A band called Crooked Saws.

It was love at first listen for me, as you can see below:

I came across them in Field & Stream's Hook Shots video blog (which happened to be on fly fishing for redfish in Louisiana...double-win for me).

You can go to Crooked Saws's Bandcamp site to listen their album...and buy it for $5, which I did, because it's awesome.

Here's a track off their album:

You can follow along with the band on Facebook here.

The 'Roommate in the Desert' Update

Since I introduced my roommate to the blogosphere earlier this week ("My roommate is tougher than you"), he's been what we call "givin' 'er shit" in the Jordanian desert.

The first day & a bit were pretty rough, with his teammates having difficulty acclimatizing to the heat and all three of them having jet-lag issues.

Unfortunately, both of his teammates withdrew from the race on day 2, early in the stage, leaving the roommate to compete alone.

And compete he has. He's moved up approximately 50 positions in the race over the past few days and just completed the 89-kilometre-long fifth stage. All that remains is Stage 6, which is a relatively minor 10-kilometre hike to the ancient city of Petra.

Congrats, Capital O. You've done well, and the city of Fredericton is really proud of you...well, maybe it's just a dozen or so of us, but either way...good job!

I know your success is due to my recommendation to get a Katy Perry song stuck in your head, over & over again.

The Unofficial Blog of the Aluminum Bastard

Three trailer tires: $204.51

Having a truck awaiting parts & repairs, resulting in not being able to tow the aluminum bastard: priceless.

(*writer sticks face into crook of elbow and swears repeatedly*)

Moving

Though I often mention my desire for living simply and all that other shit, fly fishing gear provides you with a solid nut-shot of reality to counter those claims.

Sure, I can move all my clothes & books & most worldly possessions in one load of my '03 Sport Trac. And I am able to pull off day-to-day life with a pair of 'casual' Carhartts, a pair of newer/cleaner 'dress' Carhartts and my awesome Prana shortpants (don't judge me...).

But when you're looking at 11 fly rods & their reels (and spools), waders, boots, jackets, accessories & several milk crates full of tying material, a half-dozen or so fly boxes, stripping baskets...the word hypocrite comes to mind.

Then again, we're am moving to a small downtown apartment that will:
a) allow my lovely girlfriend & I to walk for groceries, coffee, restaurants, etc.
b) require all of one candle to heat comfortably in the wintertime.
c) allow us to pay off student loans & save some money for future adventures due to lower rent.
d) allow me to bike 10 minutes to go fishing.
e) put me at the boat ramp in 6 minutes...if I'm ever able to put the Magnificent Basstard in the water.

At least I'm doing better than the McMansion crowd.

Fishing

Yes, this is a fly fishing blog, but you wouldn't really know it of late. That's because I was stuck within a degree of latitude of the Arctic Circle for four weeks and came back to boats & trucks requiring maintenance and an apartment that need moving into.

I'm hoping to remedy this lack-of-fishing situation tonight.

(*writer clasps hands, looks at the ceiling and mumbles something about needing to go fishing interspersed with a lot of swearing*)

More music

If you made it all the way through this dribble, you deserve some more music.

It's Friday, after all. Enjoy your long weekend, Canada!

The Aluminum Bastard

"Boats are holes in the water, into which one pours money." - Anon.

The Magnificent Basstard

Within a few days, I'll be moving into the space where boat ownership is actually fun.

The day I decided to buy it was pretty fun. And the day I brought it home to reside in the driveway was fun, too. Even the 2 hours I took it out for a spin with my buddy Andrew (the previous owner) on a cold-as-f**k day in November was alright as well.

For the most part, it's been an expensive pain in my asshole.

Boat covers, miscellaneous safety accessories, online boater safety courses, tools, registration transfers, trailer tires, towing packages & trailer hitches & wiring, spring tune-ups, so on & so forth.

And then there's bailing gallons of rainwater off the damn cover that I'm too lazy to tie down properly.

What started as a simple text message conversation back in early October has turned into a seventeen-foot, money-sucking aluminum bastard in my yard.

And I love it!

I want to get it into the water. I want to catch fish with it. I want it to stop sucking money from my pockets every time I look at it.

Two outta three ain't bad...