Two new Dan Hernandez "Obamicons" created for your pleasure. These are great to use as avatars for your fishing forums such as Get Bent Sportfishing, or my personal fave (and fan favorite) BloodyDecks.com!

and

Enjoy!

Oh, and you can make your own by clicking here.

(Disclaimer: I can't complain too much, I mean half the world is freezing their asses off, and the water was like glass in Baja in January - see two posts back... but that don't help the itch none)

It's been raining. Ugly out. Non-stop. Freezing too (for us California pussies, at least). I hate running the fucking electric heater at home, but that's my only option since the central heating thermostat is out, and I don't really wanna ask my landlord to fix it since we don't plan on staying much longer. Screw asking for anything that might slow down getting my $1k deposit back. That's like some nice Tuna trip money, or some nice gear right there! Also because of this nasty overcast rain (that is supposed to clear out today, but who knows...), I haven't been out on the water at all... and I've gotta say - it's kinda killing me. Imagine if you will, each raindrop is just a needle that is digging into my soul, inch by slippery inch... I know, that's so fucking teen agnst/emo haha. Anyhow, that's why the reports have been slow to come - I'm not getting lazy on you! Hopefully I'll get out this Sunday (Saturday I'm hanging with the lady), and tear up some nice sand bass and get the rod bent and the line wet... Picked up a new Shimano 8' light-tip rod with fast action today too... I wanna test it's durability (and lifetime warranty), so I definitely hope to score and pull out the Mack Truck of the seas with it come the weekend.

Oh, on another note. Going to watch Friday the 13th (remake) at midnight on Thursday the 12th... should be pretty crazy. Wonder what the bass are like in Crystal Lake... hmm...

"Iron rusts from disuse, stagnant water loses its purity and in cold weather becomes frozen; even so does inaction sap the vigors of the mind."

- Leonardo Da Vinci

That's Bobby "Weeds" there with a beautiful fish on the 'Big Game 90' (out of San Diego, CA). I met Bobby while serving time on the Constitution. He was initially quiet as hell (kinda like most everyone on those longer trips are at first), but warmed up quickly and started shooting the shit with the best of 'em in a matter of minutes. Bobby is from Huntington Beach, so it was easy to click with him and talk a little bit about the culture and our local scene...

We discussed the hard-headed HB cops, the up-to-no-good tourists that frequent Main Street late nights, good weed & strong drink, shitty titty bars, as well as our day jobs. Conversation swayed to and fro - from bitches that had burned us, to good places to eat, and eventually landed on the subject of fishing trips (because fuck, I mean we were on one at the time). He told me of a trip he had taken recently on the BG-90 - one where he had spent quite a few days out at sea, and with a limited load of anglers - maybe just 8 to 10 guys (lucky, right?).

During this Tuna hunt, and while on the rail working a big bastardo, Bobby "Weeds" was approached by another passenger (angler) who demanded that Bobby move, and that he was "in his spot." To be a little bit of a dick, Bobby took one look over each shoulder, and to his amazement - there was no one else near him on the starboard side of the stern... but Bobby moved anyhow, because he's just cool like that (cue Digable Planets '93 or whenever that single debuted)... Bobby's friend Donny (who Bobby described as a very tough and quite large sonofabitch) on the other hand, looked like he wanted to knock the dude's lights out for being so petty... But Bobby kept on - turned around, and walked to the other end of the boat...

Just then, Bobby heard it. A fat POP! in the air where he once stood, followed by a THUMP! which sounded like a sack of rice being dropped to the deck. Upon turning around Bobby saw that the guy who had hassled him not only 1 minute prior about his "spot" on the empty boat, was now laying face-up with his eyes rolled up in his skull on the deck. Immediately Bobby yelled at his friend Donny, "Why'd you hit him Donny? - he wasn't worth it!" Donny looked about as confused as Bobby, swearing up and down that he had not laid a finger on the guy!

The two looked down at the floor next to 'Mr. Space' and there lied a flapping flying fish with a bloody jaw. Apparently right after the jerk had told Bobby to get out of his space/number, the flying fish had jumped up out of the water, and struck the man with both the momentum of his flight as well as the boat traveling in the other direction. The fish hit him square in the face, and either startled him so bad that he fell straight back and knocked his head on the deck as hard as a whore gets slammed by an ex-con who's been in prison for 20 years, or it really did just hit him that hard! If Bobby had still been standing there, it would've been him... or would it have?

Either way, the guy was out cold. It was the perfect Rocky & Apollo double-KO, and people were crowded around him as his legs would give the occasional twitch, and the fish flapped furiously like his shrunken shadow (ego) by his side. The captain of the Big Game eventually had to bring down the smelling salts to wake him up, and that's about as far as I got with that story before I burst out in uncontrollable laughter with Bobby on that terrific evening. Listen, I'm not a sadist or someone who enjoys seeing folks get hurt, but given the circumstances, I am allowed to laugh at least a little bit, right?

Oh, and to make this even a little more disturbing, almost instantly people began to lose interest in the passed-out man and started feeling terribly sorry for the confused little flying fish. Nurture instinct... HMPH! *Pai Mei beard stroke*

"Karma's a bitch, and I ain't gon' do her sister." - Moi

Welcome to "The Mayday Diary," Salty Sol's official blogbarf! This isn't Sport Fishing magazine, Saltwater Sportsman, The Western Outdoor News (all of which I am a fan of), or any other big name publication that Sol's written for in the past. This blog is definitely biased, and written from ex-drunkard, funk-rocker, and outlaw southern California saltwater angler, Salty Sol's twisted perspective.

It will bring to light both the adventures of Sol on the High Seas, as well as the hi jinx, practical jokes, and ruthless antics that made him one of the most legendary, revered, and feared younger-generation anglers along the Southern California and Baja Coastline.

We'll not only commemorate great catches, but also highlight lifetime trips to Mexico/Baja, reviewing new gear, and outline different techniques and underground tips from the anglers we meet or are tipped-off to. Oh, and if we come across you, and you are an asshole or a dirty skipper - you'll find yourself in this blog (under the "Cockbird" section) as well - complete with a picture of your oily mackerel face!