Monday, February 25, 2019

A Great Account of His First Pirarucu (Arapaima ) by Doug Jeffries

We’ve been taught since infancy that it’s good to have goals.  I believe that’s true when it comes to passing third grade, making the tennis team, or learning how to play “Ring of Fire” on the guitar.  Not so much when it comes to fishing. Unless you’re one of those entrepreneurial marketing types who have the genetically infused optimism to completely ignore or rationalize failure, setting a goal of catching a specific fish firmly places one on the path to ruin and damnation.  At the very least it is the surest way to jinx a fishing trip beyond making a voodoo doll of your fly rod and jabbing pins into it.  Don’t misunderstand me, we all have dream fish, bucket lists, and life-fish that motivate us to go places and to keep trying.  You can think about those all you want but saying it out loud even if no one is around to hear you will doom you for sure.  You would stand a better chance of the Victoria’s Secret models being on your trip than you would of catching that fish. 

So retaining the faintest glimmer of hope the Victoria Secret models would join us, I mentally set myself a goal of landing a pirarucu.  This was the year.  Week after week the trip reports boasted of clients catching the famed arapaima.  Several times I nearly blundered.  I almost told my wife one night as I read the trip reports while she rapid fired question-answers back at Alex Trebek.  I know Scott felt exactly the same way but held my tongue as we commiserated during a sleep deprived first night in Manaus when our hotel somehow didn’t have any rooms for us.  I nearly blurted it out to Mike while he cleaned every last morsel of flesh from the fried tambaqui we had for lunch. Even our waiter was impressed with his skill and dedication.  Fortunately I held it all inside and things were going good.

We had a great group of old and new friends along on this trip.  All our gear showed up.  The water level was perfect for sight fishing.  After a smooth uncrowded charter flight and a nice brunch we hit the river and immediately started catching fish.  Life was good and about to get better.  The third day Bob and I were with Bacaba in Zone 3.  We asked Bacaba if he had some water conducive to popper fishing.  You may not catch a lot of big fish with poppers but it’s visual, it’s exciting and just plain fun.  I thought Bob being somewhat new to fly fishing, might enjoy it.  Bacaba replied he did have a lagoon that was good for poppers.  But first he wanted to check out another lagoon while the wind was down.  It had many pirarucu he said and it was best to go there without a lot of wind.  ‘This is it” I thought to myself.  After motoring downstream for about 20 minutes Bacaba beached the boat, we gathered fly rods and backpacks, grabbed a few extra waters, and made a 10 minute hike through the jungle to Cobra Lagoon.  The boat Bacaba had stashed in the lagoon had a few inches of water in it from the rain the previous night.  We tilted the boat up as far as we could, then Bacaba bailed out the last of the water.  As Bacaba poled us into the lagoon we both pointed out pirarucu that had come up for a gulp of air near some trees along the opposite shore.  There was also a huge splash in the deep middle section of the lagoon.  Bacaba said we’d get to those later, first he wanted to check the shallow water to our west.  “We can sight fish them?” I asked.  This just got better and better.

Pirarucu often come up, gulp air and then return to the same place near the bottom of the lagoon.  I knew the typical way to fish for pirarucu was to watch for the rising fish and then cast a deep sinking fly into the rings and let it sink.  Then you retrieved the fly with a slow steady pull, hoping it magically got close enough to the business end of a pirarucu that the pirarucu would suck it in.  It wasn’t the most exciting fishing but knowing there was a pirarucu down there somewhere was usually enough to keep us at it for an hour or two.

Bacaba turned the boat to follow the shoreline, keeping us around 150 – 200 feet from shore.  He was scanning dark tannin colored water about three feet deep.  Suddenly he planted his push pole up near the bow slowing and turning the boat toward shore.  “Pirarucu.  You see it?” he asked.  I admitted I did not see it.  “See the big sand hole at one o’clock?”  I said I did.  “See the grey spot just to the right?  That is a pirarucu.”  Wow, that was a surprise.  I figured the fish would be dark, maybe with a slight reddish hint.  The few pirarucu I had seen on previous trips were that way.  So Bacaba found us a fish, now we had to figure out which end was the head.  Throwing the fly at the tail end doesn’t work.  Pirarucu are pretty lazy fish and won’t chase a fly, they won’t even turn around to get one that bites it on the ass.  Finally Bacaba said “Cast, left of the fish.” I admit my first few casts  were well off the mark.  I mean how often do you get to sight cast to a pirarucu?  So I blew up that first fish.  After watching that first fish, Bob acknowledged the cast was longer than he could make and graciously told me to stay up.  Bacaba found another fish and I spooked that one too.  By the third fish I had my nerves more or less under control and I made a decent long cast to a fish.  The fish moved toward the fly but didn’t take.  I quickly stripped in and recast.  This time the fish accelerated, ate the fly and kept right on coming straight at us.  I couldn’t strip fast enough to get a good hook set.  The fish passed the bow of the boat headed for deep water.  The line came tight and I gave it a couple hard sets.  Just as my backing left the rod tip, the fish changed direction and the hook pulled free.  Both Bacaba and I had hopes for that one.  “The mouth is very hard” Bacaba said as he made a hook with his finger and pulled it out from between his teeth.  I stripped in my fly and we tried along another section of shore.  Another pirarucu ate my fly and liked it so much it kept all but the hook.  As I tied on a new fly the wind came up making sight fishing difficult.  It seemed like the pirarucu didn’t like the wave action either and moved out of the shallow water.  We moved into deeper water and watched for rising fish.  Bob got up and made many great casts into the rings left by the fish but got no takes.  After an hour and half we decided there was too many other fun things to do so we headed back to main river.  But that morning in Cobra Lagoon had lit a fire, my internal goal blazed as if gasoline had been thrown on a campfire.  I had to catch one of these fish.

Two days later I was scheduled to be the single (having an odd number in our group someone  had to go alone each day).  I thought maybe this would be another chance if I could swap zones with someone.  I get to fish with some of the most gracious, caring people on the planet.  Anna and Scott readily agreed to swap zones with me – I owe them big time and promise to make amends.  They went with Caboclo and caught huge peacock bass.  But I got to go back to Cobra Lagoon with Bacaba.  I told him what I wanted to do as we left the dock, headed downstream to his zone.  Bacaba was stoked.  We repeated the drill from a couple days prior.  I avoided the pirarucu fever and put several good casts on fish.  But the fish were acting snotty.  We went back to the shallows to catch a small wolfish just to see what the pirarucu were up to.  We hooked the little wolfish on a big fly and tossed it out behind the boat.  As Bacaba poled us slowly along, the line suddenly went tight.  Something tried to eat the wolfish.  I stripped it back in and we could see scrape marks on both sides of the wolfish, most probably a pirarucu because it wasn’t deep enough for catfish.  So okay, they were eating.  We just had to keep trying. 

Bacaba guided the boat along another shallow shore and we saw two more pale grey spots.  One moved out of range but the second one stayed put.  My fly landed just left of the grey shape and the fish swirled, stirring up mud.  Bacaba said “I think he’s still there in the mud”, so I cast again and began a slow retrieve. This time there was no doubt in the eat and no doubt on my set.  It was perfect and I knew I was solid to this fish.  It went left and then made a 90 degree turn and blew by the bow of the boat.  I stayed tight the whole time and soon saw a little backing leaving the reel.  But the fish didn’t fight as hard or as long as I thought it would.  I was able to pull the fish back toward the boat.  Twice more it took line but less than half it took the first time.  The fourth time it came to the boat and Bacaba boga’d it without drama.  There was a huge sense of relief when we got the fish in hand.  Both Bacaba and I felt it and we high fived and grinned like little kids.  We took a couple photos with the fish in the water and Bacaba picked it up trying guess the weight (it was way more than his 30lb boga).  But when we tried to resuscitate the fish there was something wrong.  It just got more and more lethargic and wouldn’t swim upright.  It finally held itself right-side up in the water and waved its tail a few times.  But when we released it it simply dropped to the bottom and rolled on its side again.  Bacaba jumped in and swam the fish around the boat for  10 minutes to no avail.  I was pretty sure there was something wrong with that fish based on the way it fought, or didn’t fight.  One eye was more cloudy than the other too.  The gills weren’t bright red but maybe in that poor oxygenated water they aren’t anyway.  This was the first and only pirarucu I have had a chance to examine.  Bottom line is the fish died in our hands.  So I accomplished my unspoken goal but it was bitter sweet.  A noble prized fish was gone.

There wasn’t anything more we could do about it so we pulled the pirarucu into the skiff and paddled back to the put in point.  We carried it back to the main river and Bacaba motored us to a shady lunch spot.  After lunch we decided to clean the fish.  Bacaba tested his machete and it wasn’t very sharp and all we had was my little hook hone.  I did have a Swiss Army knife and that blade was sharp but not much use against the armored plating of the pirarucu.  So Bacaba used his machete to remove a row of the thick hard scales along the dorsal edge.  Then we use my knife to filet the meat off the ribs and backbone.  After resharpening my knife we peeled the skin from that filet, then flipped the fish over and repeated the process on the other side.  Bacaba tossed the entrails, head and carcass into the river which immediately came alive with small baitfish eating as much as they could.  About an hour later we cruised past the spot and the only trace of the pirarucu we could find was a couple scales on the shore.  As we searched the area a big 14 foot black caiman surfaced.  That explained the absent head and carcass and entrails for sure.

I estimate that fish around 65 – 70 lbs and we probably got 40 lbs of magnificent filets from it.  Pretty sure we had it for dinner on the last night.  So thankfully, the fish didn’t go to waste.  Still, it hurt to know I played a role in its demise.  I kept a couple of the big scales in a small baggy and when we got back to the lodge I slipped into the door frame of Scott’s cabin.  It was the way we used to let our friends know we caught a big tarpon – we stuck a scale under the windshield wiper on their car so they’d find it the next morning.

That evening I remember reliving the past couple of days.  Five pirarucu hooked, one landed.  That seems about right.  And I patted myself on the back for keeping my goal to myself.

Video of 2019 Agua Boa Trip

Thanks to Charlie Conn and Carlos Azevedo putting together this video montage of the best photos from our recent trip to the Agua Boa Lodge.

Thursday, February 21, 2019

John Riggs: A Day with Doug Jeffries

Authors of the well received novel Revenge of the Wandering Spider, spent a day together on the Agua Boa River. Doug and John are old friends... Here is John Rigg's account of their day.

The authors... John and Doug (holding their book).

Their novel... no animals were harmed in the making of this book.

The day dawned as it often does at the Agua Boa Amazon Lodge.  I was fortunate enough to have Doug Jeffries as my writing and fishing partner and head guide Joseph as our guide.  Destination:  Zone 5.

Our first stop (and where we fished the majority of the day) was a series of low water sandbars that poked out almost 2/3rds across the river.  They meandered back and forth.  

“What are we doing here?” I wondered to myself.  Joseph had taken me and Steve Peskoe earlier in the week to a fishy lake that I wanted to return to and enjoy the borbeletto riot with my popping bug.  

Doug took the deck like McArthur storming the Philippines. In a very few moments of scanning, Joseph said in an excited voice, “Doug, beeeggg one, over there!”  The fisherman turned to see where Joseph pointed.  Sure enough, there lazily swimming on a sandbar was Mr. Temensis, a healthy looking creature that had to go at least 10 #s.  

Doug began his windup (some might call it “false” casting, but I tend to be much more cheerful), and soon zipped the fly and line in the general direction of the fish.  “Closer to feessshhh Doug!  He can no see it!" exclaimed Joseph the excitable guide.  Obediently, Doug recast, this time hitting 1’ in front of the fish’s nose.  “Strip!  Strip!  Strip!” yelled Joseph.  

Like a nuclear torpedo traveling at Mach 1, the fish turned and attacked Doug’s fly.  With a mighty heave, Doug gave a trout set to end all trout sets resulting in the fly disembarking from the fish’s mouth. “NO MOVE ROD DOUG” Joseph spat out.  For his part Doug looked sheepish and began muttering to himself.  

He looked back at me.  “You want the deck?”   
“Naw, let’s see you stick something rather than just scare it.”

Joseph soon spotted more potential customers. “Big group Doug! Ten O’Clock!” said Joseph (I don’t know why but all day any fish Joseph saw was at 10 o’clock. Perhaps his watch only shows one time). The man on the deck wound up and let fly his fly. It landed reasonably close, he immediately striped, and a bass obediently inhaled his fly. This time Doug gave a determined strip set and the fight was on.

After a respectable tussle, the fish came to boat. “How big Joseph?” queried Doug as we always do with the guides. The guide studied the fish laying on its side in the water.
“Nine pounds” he proudly exclaimed. “No way, Joseph, he’s at least 12” Doug retorted. Joseph hopped down from the poling platform and grabbed the fish with his boga. He studied the numbers.
“Nine pounds.” Doug looked up at me.
“See, that’s why I always tell you to listen to the guide! And don’t bring out any PINK poppers!”

I stood, took the deck and pulled out about 20 more feet of line than I could ever cast, trying to look macho.  Another nice school was spotted by Joseph. My initial cast landed 30’ short because the line had wrapped around my ankle.  I cursed, did a jig to get the line off me, and began to cast again.  The fly landed 30’ short again.  This time a huge tangled knot stopped the line before the first eye.
“Shit shit shit” I muttered aloud.  My fingers began to untie the bird’s nest, me working as quickly as I could.  Soon (at least in my world…however in the real world it might have been several minutes) I was free and ready to cast.
“Where Joseph?”  I yelled.  I looked back.  Both guide and fishing partner were looking at me with puzzled looks.  
“Fish gone.”. “I think the jig scared ‘em off” Doug added. 


And so, that was how our day went.  

Doug would ascend the throne, spy a fish, make a perfect cast, and a fish was on.  At my turn, Joseph would excitedly point out a fish, I would attempt to cast, and the fly would either be long, short, wide, or in the back of my shoulder.  If I was lucky, it would just tangle around everthing possible in the boat.  

We sight fished the entire day seeing more bruisers than any two fishermen deserved to see.   Doug had a titanic battle with a 16 pounder who took him to his backing.  After getting the fish in, taking numerous pictures, and releasing the behemoth, Doug and Joseph began arguing about the fish 

“Boga says 16 Doug.”  
“Bogas can be wrong.  That fish was every bit of 22 my friend.”  
“My boga always right.”
“I’m still claiming it was 22.”

And so my day went.  

Agua Boa Lodge... Days 4,5 and 6.

Day 4
With Scott Sawtelle... a simply great day with an old friend! We fished, laughed, caught fish, and bitched a bit about a variety of topics from politics to fishing gear. Scott ended up having a very good day. He caught quite a few big peacocks. He caught one very large paca (spotted peacock) that I really wanted to photograph.  It was a beautifully colored fish (See below). All in all this was another perfect day on the Agua Boa River.

...and another big paca for Scott

Day 5
Simply amazing... Anna Riggs and I took off with Caboclo to the first Zone upriver from the lodge. We fished two lagoons and a few sections of the main river during our day. 

17.5 lbs... that is one big peacock Anna! 
While we drifted about in the middle of the lagoon, I had three 5-8 lb. fish before Caboclo and Anna could change her line to a sink tip. Then Anna caught a 17.5 lb. peacock and over the course of the day, caught numerous 10-14 lb. fish. I did well too, but not as well as “Big Fish” Anna. After landing a 10 + lb. “spottie” that was stronger than any 15 lb. temensis I have ever caught. I would have been happy to end our day here, but it was only lunchtime!

This big spotted peacock was extremely strong... 
and the largest paca I've ever caught!

There is no better place to enjoy a bit of nourishment then under the canopy out of the heat. Here, you can sit back listen to the breeze rustle the leaves and the birds call from deep in the jungle.

After a bit of nourishment and a bit of a nap in the cool of the canopy, we headed back out into the bright Amazonian sun. it wasn't long before I hooked what would turn out to be a 13 lb. tough guy. This brute took me into my backing on his first run with my Abel Super 8’s drag totally pegged. He then went deep into a log jam. It took a great effort to work him out and after a couple more big fish, that did it for me for the day. Anna of course caught big fish after big fish... another spectacular day!

another "beast" for Anna!

A word about the guides: 
The Agua Boa Lodge guides are a talented lot from top to bottom. First of all, they are a lot better fly casters than most, if not all, of the guests. They are very dedicated and take great pride in their craft. I’ve watched many of these guys go from good to great over the last decade. They see fish very well, have a sixth sense of where to be and when. They put together a great agenda each and every day and know their areas extremely well. While personalities vary from friendly to friendly outgoing and very fun loving, their skills are at the upper end of the scale. All this means is this... listen to them. Follow their instructions, try to do what they tell you and you will be much more successful. They also know the jungle very well and always put your safety first. I personally would like to thank all of them for a great trip, your friendship and your generous and sincere efforts!

Bacaba's oscar fly
...and Chaz Davis' pink fly that did the trick for me!
wolf fish... nasty!
After many years of visiting the Agua Boa Lodge, I still had one thing on my agenda. With Pedro, so many years ago, I had hooked and lost an arapaima before I knew what they were. Over the years, I had cast to dozens of these huge, armor-plated monsters... always without success. Two years ago, Charlie Conn and I had hooked a big arapaima and our guide Neto had cried. He had never hooked one on his watch before. Unfortunately, we didn’t land this fish. After a 20 minute fight (with an 8 wt.), the shock tippet had finally parted, but I had learned a lot.

This year, we were seeing a few arapaima in shallow water. Maybe this would be the year! Then Doug Jeffries, with Bacaba as his guide, devoted an entire day to the pursuit of one... and he returned that evening with a story of success! Now it was game on!

another wolf fish
...and a red tailed catfish on a fly!
freshwater dolphin
wasp nest... be aware!
The next day, with Bobby Sawtelle, I decided to devote my deck time to arapaima. I let Bobby fish most of the morning for peacocks and wolf fish while I watched the lagoon. From time to time, I saw a big arapaima roll sucking in air to fill its swim bladder that doubles as a lung. Big eyes, a bucket of a mouth... anglers call arapaima the tarpon of the Amazon. For me, they are more like a permit... if a permit grew to be 150-200 lbs.! Arapaima seem intelligent. They are very wary and obviously very difficult to catch. The prevailing wisdom has always been fish them deep. In the last few years, some arapaima are being caught at various South American destinations with big sink tips, but only after thousands of blind casts. 

green ibis
But today, after Bobby stepped down from the deck, Bacaba and I started seeing arapaima roll. After they sounded, we watched their bubble trails fade away. Soon, I started seeing a few three or so feet under the surface. Of course, Bacaba did too. It wasn’t long before we "synced-up" doing that thing you do with very good guides where you both know what’s going on without ever talking about it. A few near misses and one great opportunity spoiled by a small peacock brought us above a fish that was lolling just below the surface 70-80 feet away. I made sure my 2nd haul was right and presented a fly into what I though must surely be within the arapaima’s window. A quick strip or two and I felt a nick. I stripped hard and a fish was on. I thought initially it might be another small peacock... then all hell broke loose. The fished lunged up and out seemingly too big to clear the water’s surface. 

Jabaru stork
Bobby was quiet behind me until he saw the fish then he spit out “Holy Crap.“.
Then the fish sounded and stuck to the bottom like a suction cup on glass. With great effort, I worked the fish back to the surface numerous times only to have it vociferously sound once again. 
After what seemed like an eternity, Bacaba said “He is getting tired. Work him towards me.”
I did and Bacaba expertly grabbed his lip on the first try. 
“I could kiss you.” I told Bacaba.
Bacaba at the casting competition

...a prehistoric monster
The stocky guide tried to lift the fish, but to no avail. He handed me the boga with fish attached and we both hauled the fish into our laps. I handed Bobby my camera. He took a few quick photos then it was back in the drink. I took a few more photos while Bacaba revived the arapaima. Soon, the fish strongly finned away. We estimated his weight at somewhere around 70 lbs. Who knows? Do I care... not one damn bit!

Monday, February 18, 2019

Agua Boa Lodge Feb. 2-9, 2019: Part Two

Day 2
Preto and I decided to head as far upriver as our jet outboard would allow. Preto and I are old friends. We had met first in 2009 when we had been together on the Agua Boa Lodge Houseboat. The houseboat had been moored about where we hopefully would begin fishing today. It would be a bit of a journey to get to this point, but I was eager to see the upper Agua Boa once again.

Preto is built like an NFL linebacker. I've seen him wrestle a five foot caiman to a tap-out and haul a John boat around like a rag doll. Today, we walked into numerous lagoons and at one point, Preto hauled a boat 200 yards through the jungle from one lagoon to the next! After a very successful rendezvous with several double digit peacocks, he then hauled our boat to the main river then kicked it off to float unattended downriver. The water was getting too low for its future use this season. Preto told me he would collect it later for a trip back to the lodge.
Preto concentrates at the guide's casting competition.

A big paca on a gurgler.
The rain didn't bother us a bit!

In each lagoon we visited, I caught 10-12 lb. peacocks, numerous 5-8 lb. paca (spotted peacocks) and countless 3-4 lb. butterflies. We fished the whole afternoon in a light rain, often surrounded by 10-14 foot caiman eager to pilfer our peacocks. By the middle of the afternoon, I was beat. Constant casting followed by frequents battles with big peacocks had worn me out. I eagerly gave Preto my rod and told him to fish... please! He caught a few big peacocks and a big black piranha before we started home well over an hour and a half away.


Preto and I do that selfie thing!

At the end of a busy day, anglers can look forward to a hot rejuvenating shower, a cold drink by the pool or in the lodge and a delicious meal in the dining room. Dinners are served buffet style and always preceded by a delicious homemade soup. Served, of course, by a very attentive waiter in a sharp white shirt and tie.  Entrees include fish, beef and chicken served a variety of ways. Side dishes include rice and beans, numerous vegetable choices and fresh baked breads. Then it's time to go over the top with yet another wonderful dessert. 

Old friends Steve Peskoe and Scott Sawtelle share a moment!

Wine, beer and caipirinhas (served dockside upon arrival home from the fishing day) are provided by the lodge... other adult beverages should be purchased in Manaus and brought with you in the charter. Lunches are made by the guests at breakfast and include homemade breads and buns, multiple meats, lettuce, tomatoes, fresh fruits, hard boiled eggs, desserts etc. Breakfasts are traditional American and include homemade baked goods, eggs, bacon, fresh squeezed exotic juices and strong Brazilian coffee. You will not go hungry at Agua Boa Lodge and considering where you are and what it takes to get supplies into the jungle, the food is simply stupendous!

Charlie Conn with a big tucanare

On Day 3, ABL host (and my old friend) Charlie Conn and I turned right at the dock and headed downriver with our guide Samuel. I always have a great time with Charlie. He has a great sense of humor and is a very experienced and talented fishermen. With Charlie, I always get the low down on any new “hot spot” or "gotta have" fly lines. Charlie and I compare notes and he likes to fish the way I do: serious relaxation and "take it in" followed by moments of chaos all blended together with laughter and possibly swearing, followed by more goofing around. Plus, he likes to sight fish which makes him alright in my book. 



On this day, Charlie was a bit under the weather, so he donated the bow to me more than I deserved. At one point, in a large lago, I caught many borboletas and small pacas while Charlie snored pleasantly. He was stretched out on the middle seat. Miraculously, he always woke up long enough to unhook my catch. Then Mr. Conn would lie back on his bench and, almost without pause, resume snoring. Samuel and I could only laugh.

One thing did wake Charlie up big time. We spotted a big arapaima (pirarucu) facing us in two feet of water. Motionless, the fish was laid-up 10' from shore. We thought the fish went 60-70 lbs. I had my 8 wt. rigged with a floating line... perfect for a fish this size... if all you wanted to do was just piss it off! Things got very quiet in the boat as I cast Chaz Davis’ beautiful pink and white streamer six inches off the beast’s left eye.

The fish immediately sucked in my fly. I stripped hard and came tight to a freight train that headed right at our boat. I frantically tried to strip line as I lifted my rod as far as I could reach overhead. The fish covered the 70 feet to the boat in the time it takes to say “Holy Shit”. The arapaima ran under the boat’s bow and continued out into the lagoon trailing too much slack and all my hopes of staying hooked up. We all turned from left to right like spectators at at tennis match. When I should have come tight, I did not. The game was over. All that was left of the fish was a muddy trail pointed in a straight line from the shallows out into the middle of the lagoon. 

“That was cool.” was all I could mutter. 

We all waxed philosophically then went back to what we do. I sight fished trying to follow Samuel’s excellent suggestions while Charlie dozed and unhooked my fish.... Perfect day made more perfect when a 12 lb. peacock sucked in my fly at a brief stop on the way home. Thanks Guys, great day, but I must admit I ended up feeling like I had uncompleted business with an arapaima! More on this later....

The cabins at the lodge are very comfortable and very roomy. They are cleaned daily. Twin queen beds, plush towels, a large shower, big counter tops, a mini-fridge stocked with beer, sodas and water, a writing table, large closets and daily laundry take all the “roughing it” out of a stay. Oh, and let’s not forget the A/C... you are in the Amazon Basin after all!

Steve and Cindy Peskoe... 
...railed on some monsters!

Next Part 3...