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I always figure if the crew will chance it, I’ll go, but as I watched a deckhand get profoundly seasick off the Argentinean coast, I knew I was pushing my luck.
My bucket list is very important to me, but I don’t want to be the one with my head in the bucket.
I caught a quick shuttle over to the Sheraton, and started setting up my gear.
The Sheraton was everything I wanted, in other words, a Sheraton, and I had a bonus view of the harbor.
(Note – don’t trust Google translate when ordering at a restaurant.
You’ll end up with llama testicles in your soup.) As we got closer to the target weekend, the weather started slipping.
Once I had all my rigs checked and re-checked, I wandered into the local shopping district.
But I was already in Buenos Aires, enjoying all those steak dinners I missed when I had food poisoning last year. The soccer fans among you will get this immediately.
They require the same type of awkward, long float rig, but they bit quickly and I was up two species for the day.
One by one, a few other critters started coming over the rail. This relatively small eel is common in the area, and was a nice surprise to tack a third fish onto the species list.
When you fly 7000 miles to go fishing, you aren’t going to let a little wind and rain keep you off the water.
Gale-force winds and torrential rain, however, are a different story.