Method, destinations and dispatches. Everything here is written from the beach, not the spec sheet.
What's going into Baja, item by item, with weights. Not the answer — the baseline everything else gets measured against.
A twelve-dollar dive slate is the most overlooked item a shore angler carries. What to write on it, why not the phone, and the two entries that get you off the beach.
Hurricane Lowell put 20–30-foot surf on Hawaii's south shores. Most post-storm advice assumes rain and runoff — a swell event is a different animal.
Bait, birds, current, structure. How to decide where to start on water you have never seen, in ten minutes from above the sand, and when to walk away from it.
Four to six casts fanned across 180 degrees from one stance, then move. How far, how fast, what the arc tells you, and the times it pays to stay put.
Getting a big fish out of the water from wet rock, with no net, no gaff and nobody to help. What works, what costs you blood, and what has to be decided before the cast.
A breached estuary south of San José del Cabo, green water, and a box of baits built to be seen in water with nothing to see them in. The one that worked was built to be felt. Fishing to the sense that is actually switched on.
The dawn bite is real and it is not caused by which way the beach faces. What orientation actually changes: your glare, your shadow, where the fish hold as the light climbs, and which side of you needs the sunscreen. Worked for the Los Cabos corridor.
There is an old saying in sports: the best ability is availability.
You cannot fish if you are burned, chafed, punctured, dehydrated or cut off by the tide. None of that is dramatic, all of it ends trips, and no fishing site treats it as a subject. These are field craft, not medicine: what to carry, what to check, and when to stop. Where a doctor is the answer, each one says so.
A blistered instep or the tops of your feet burned on day two costs more days than weather does. Sand socks and what they do not do, cuts in warm salt water, and the five-minute evening routine.
Water does not need to be deep to take you off your feet. What to read before you step in, why your depth limit is set by the current, the cut-off that kills shore anglers, and what is under the sand.
Sunscreen alone was never going to be enough. Reapplication is the whole game, mineral is the law on Molokai, fabric first, and the evening routine that buys the back half of a trip.
Not a serious injury in any medical sense, which is why nobody is ready for how completely it ends a day. Why drying salty is worse than wet, the rule to stop at warm, and the bow-legged two miles home.
Only one of the two things you are doing depends on the fish. The second scoreboard, what to do when they are not biting, and the swim with goggles that is also reconnaissance.
Seven days on the southern tip of Baja, built around two decisions made before the rods were packed: how to get there, and where to sleep. The itinerary, the shape of the days, and a day of scouting the coastline property by property.
Where I live, and where every register item gets carried before it flies anywhere. Seven places from Pololu to A-Bay, four kinds of water inside an hour, and what each one is for.
Beaches, estuaries, cuts and rock piles on the southern cape — what's reachable without a boat, and how to plan a day around the tide.
The south-shore reef flats on foot, the rock at either end of the island, and who to ask before you fish any of it.
Thailand on foot: where the mangrove edges meet fishable sand, and what the humidity does to your tackle.
A straight answer to a question the internet currently answers badly — restrictions, protected species, and what resorts actually allow.
Guanacaste’s rock points and the Golfo Dulce river mouths in the wet season, the license you buy before the first cast, and what a month of rain does to a bag.
TSA permits rods in carry-on. That isn't the rule that costs you one — the airline's size limit is, and the checkpoint officer's judgment is.
Swimmers, surfers, paddlers, boats and you, and the one throwing a weighted hook has the weakest claim. Why that is fair, how to scout people as well as water, and the move you have that they do not.
TSA permits small lures and hooks in a carry-on. That is not what decides whether you keep them. How to split the tackle so a bad morning at the checkpoint costs you nothing.
Every liter you drink opens a liter of pack. By the turnaround you are carrying empty space, and the walk home is the cleanup. What to pick up, what to leave, and why it is ours to do.