In the holiday tradition of boring friends and relatives nearly to death with an inane but truthful opus of the past years events, I have decided to write this, my first Christmas Letter blog. However, 2005 really sucked and I don’t want to tell anyone about it. In fact, 2005 ranks up there for me with say….a home invasion.
So, I have decided to completely fabricate my Christmas Letter instead, and because I am too damn lazy to actually write the entire thing at once, I have also decided to write in several parts. Enjoy.
The most wonderful thing about Christmas is it gives us time to share all our achievements with our friends and families. Personally I find one of the most enjoyable parts of the holiday is to read the letters of our friends from around the world and discover just how inadequate they are in comparison. “Oh little Megan lost a tooth”, “Grandma got new glasses”. Honestly, what Crap! Next year please don’t bother unless you have something exciting to tell me.
The big adventures of 2005 started a little later than in 2004. It took me until the middle of January to emerge from the depression caused by reading all those Christmas letters we received. But we quickly made up for lost time. Wifey thought the best way to wrench me from my funk was to take me on a deep sea fishing expatiation in the tradition of Ernest Hemingway. We flew first class into Miami and the flight was fantastic. While the kids napped, Wifey and I took the opportunity to re-new our membership in the “Mile High Club”. Like I said the flight was fantastic.
Upon arriving in Miami we realized we were both far to loaded to drive so we chartered a limo to take us to Key West. The kids thought the limo was really cool. It had a TV for each of them so they were able to watch their favourite shows while we made our way to the resort. The ride was very nice for Wifey and I as well as the limo was well stocked with champagne.
After a few days of lying in the sun, eating and drinking like royalty, I finally worked up the ambition to charter a boat to take me fishing. I was back, completely renewed and out of my funk. The next day the boy and I made our way out on the Gulfstream for a man’s adventure of a lifetime. We set out early and made for the 90 miles between the Keys and Cuba, where the big fish are known to be. I wasn’t after dinner. I was after the chance to wrestle with a Marlin, sailfish, tuna or wahoo. I was after a legend, a god of the sea.
The boy was the first to get a hit. A 42 pound Tarpon and a hell of a fighter. The fish was leaping about 10 feet out of the water. It was amazing to watch. No sooner had the boy landed the fish when I had my first strike, a 28 pound mahi-mahi. Not a bad little fighter, but not what I was after. The boy landed another Tarpon and a Snapper that weighted in at 39 pounds. Then I got the big strike, a 193-pound swordfish. It took three and a half hours in the fightin’ chair to land the spectacular fish. At times I thought the fish was going to win the epic battle, other times I thought she had given in to her fate only to be amazed by yet another burst of life. When the battle finally ended and we had our pictures, we let the fish back into the sea.
We ended the trip back at the marina by cooking up the mahi-mahi in a smoked lemon and honey marinade. Delicious!
The last few days of our trip was spend back at the resort relaxing and enjoying a little family time and trying to decide what to do next. My vote was for Northern Spain after the kids had finished school. We could be there just in time for the Festival in Pamplona and the Running of the Bulls.
END OF PART 1