That Guy

There's always one. The guy that jumps out of the boat after ten hours in the heat, the cold, the sun, the chop, the wind, the whatever, and grabs his rod to run to the next dock, the adjacent flat, the muddy hole behind the launch, to see what else he can catch. He's the guy that takes the guide aside at the end of the days for extra casting lessons (when, in fact, you'd trade your firstborne for his current stroke). The guy that you have to go looking for when you're packing up to head back to the lodge, though he's easy to find. Just look for water. He's the guy whose fishing day never ends.

You know. That guy.

It's no accident that he fishes your, and everyone else's, socks off, day in and day out. He comes off the water and suggests that he's had a tough day when you know that he slayed them. He's a fish catching machine because he lives it, because he loves it, and you have to tip your favorite fishing hat to that.

You know. That guy.

I love that guy.

For the record, that guy on South Andros was my new bud Nathaniel Riverhorse Nakadate. A mighty fine fisherman, writer, musician, and as unique and entertaining a soul as I've encountered in quite some time. Watch for his work in The Flyfish Journal where he's a regular contributor.