WARNING!!! The following thread contains numerous shots like this one, so if you like this sort of thing, grab a cold beer or rum on the rocks and kick back, relax and come along for the journey!!



Some of the best decisions in life are made over sushi and cold beers. This is what happened one cold February night last year as my lifelong fishing buddy and adopted little brother Blake and his longtime girlfriend Vanessa joined my wife and I in Seattle for some Japanese food and rounds of cold draft Kirin pints . Blake and Vanessa moved to San Diego several years ago from Seattle so we don’t get together as often as we used to. My wife wanted to buy us a cool fishing trip for my 50th birthday present. Something with plenty of adrenaline, but without the likelihood (instead of the mere possibility ;)) of being hacked to pieces by murderous pirates. Blake and Vanessa are adrenaline junkies too….. they jump out of airplanes for a living. We have taken some awesome trips together over the years and we wanted raw adventure. We had been telling them about Panama ever since Robbo came back from his first exploratory trip with fishing and scenery shots that made us both drool.

It was settled. Panama it is! The four of us toasted our decision. In the morning I called Robbo and he locked us in.

The journey unfolds……………………

Day 1 – Travel. We meet up with Stam, Robbo and Joe at Seatac for the boring flight to Houston, where we all head to a seafood joint to wait for Blake and Vanessa. They arrive from San Diego. Introductions and hugs all around followed by several rounds of Cajun Bloody Marys to start things off. After we boarded our flight to Panama City, the flight attendant told me “I’m sorry, but our credit card machine does not work so we cannot sell any alcoholic beverages”. Uh huh. Sure. Oh is that right? Mingo somehow manages to convince them that we are suffering from horrible thirst and we need some special attention. Several free rounds of Corona later, things are looking good. Then we land. Hard. As in, collapsed-landing-gear- with- a-dash-of-double-tire- blowout- hard. A few screams and sobs were heard. Fillings were knocked loose, glass eyes popped out, bladders spontaneously emptied…the woman in front of us said “I…….I….I think I sharted!”. We were in Panama.

After checking into our hotel we went to find a bar where they follow the awesome only-in-Panama “80/20 rule” with their rum and cokes. The glass on the left contains only Abuelo rum. The right one has a splash of coke. Game on.





Day 2 – Panama City and the Canal. Don’t expect Panama drivers to play by U.S. rules. They close their eyes, point their vehicles where they want to go and just punch it and pray. This is not a city for pussies, cuecos or those with heart conditions. You place your life in the hands of the taxi or shuttle driver and hope for the best. A good buzz helps.

On the way to the canal, Stam recreates the gangland brain-splatter slaying that happened in this cab only 36 hours before. The driver chuckles.



Checkin’ out the canal……...



Where is the spigot? We’re thirsty!