Day 4

---

Dear Blog,

Today has been one of those days which is highlights why I have wanted to go travelling for so long.

I woke up to a perfect day, not a cloud in the sky, and headed down to the beach to see about taking a boat trip around the bay. The view from my hostel is stunning, you can see massive sand dunes on the other side, the rest is a lush green with tropical trees and flowers, and the water is really blue. Anyway, as I was saying, I went down to the water front to find out about trips, and got chatting to these blokes in their fishing boats. I asked them how much it cost to go fishing and they explained that they were part of a competition to catch Marlin and weren't taking tourists. Anyway, to cut a long story short, they asked me if I wanted to join them. Well I didn't need asking twice. After a few alterations to my 'magic bus' plans, I set off out into the sea with two complete strangers!! The boat went so fast as we left the harbour that I couldnt stop smiling. I'm sure they thought I was insane. When we were out to sea, my fisher friends Phil and John (both salt of the earth Kiwi blokes) gave me the low down on everthing fishing. It was great. they had these massive fishing rods to catch the Marlin with and a smaller one for 'Skippy's' (skipjack tuna). Unfortunately we didnt catch any marlin which was disappointing, but I did catch two fish, an albacore and a skippy. It was excellent fun, and I'm sure my dad would have been proud of my attempts to land the tuna.

My compatriates were excellent company, telling me all sorts of fishing stories, and showing me how to look for 'meatballs' (large shoals of fish bait near the surface of the water). When we headed back for shore, the water got really choppy and I did start to slightly regret my decision- it was awful. I was being flung around all over the place. Then we had to cross 'the bar' (an area of major turbulance). But we just 'cut straight through the belly' (went headfirst into hell), and I quite literally 'shat my pants' (shat my pants)!! It was horrific, but I lived to tell the tale and now can call myself a true westerner (someone who fishes off the west coast). Apparently there aren't many of them, as the seas are so dangerous. Nice of them to tell me that before we left! (Don't panic mother a little artistic licence has been used in the writing of this story).
When we got back to solid earth, they chopped the head off my catch, and I proudly presented it to Jenny, the owner of the hostel who was like my surrogate mother. That night I went along with John and Phil to the presentation dinner and had my first BBQ of the trip. All in all a fab day, and slept like a log.

Love Fogg xx

---