mupitara
Papatara

Back to the Future

Last week we spent four days sport fishing with a guest along the Rio Prinzapolka. Our objective for this outing was to travel up and down portions of the Rio Prinzapolka in an attempt to catch fish. We hoped to prove the Rio Prinzapolka to be the Snook and Tarpon Capitol of the World! That, unfortunately for us, didn´t happen.

This time of year the dry season is well advanced and the river is nearing its lowest level for the year. People in nearly

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OK, I admit it is a brash statement. And while it is also a fact that I am an adopted Texan who has somehow found his way further south into northeastern Nicaragua, it occured to me to make this claim because of something I remember as a young boy in my birthplace of Bald Knob, Arkansas rather than my adolescent and adulthood years in ¨bigger is better¨ Texas. But, please give me a chance to explain.


A Blast from the Past

In the early fifties when I was born,

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Here´s a story (one of my favorites) that I posted on Facebook last year. Since that time, FB has taken back virtually all of the features that allowed me to publish (e.g. Note Tabs, Links Widget) my work there. Since nobody can find my work on FB anymore, I decided to see if anyone would read it here on TheRealNicaragua.com. I suspect that Jonh and his henchmen will soon figure me out and start tightening up TRN Blogs, as well!

I had a young man from Seattle make an impromtu trip

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Sunday is a day of rest in the communities. So, Antonio couldn´t ask Rodas to run the brushcutter.

Instead, Rodas decided to walk to the little community of Dos Amigos on the river. He planned to send word back with someone to Hotel Papatara that we were without fresh flashlight batteries. My cell phone had communicated with Alamikamba on the previous trip. This time it would not. Also, Radio Prinzu in Alamikamba had lost signal strength in the last few days, so, we had received

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OK, now we had an objective! This was no longer a fishing trip. Now, it was a game of capture the flag between the dory team and the piscatorial ¨Silver Team¨. The tarpon had our lure. And, we wanted it back!

The bell rang again signalling that it was time to return to the ring.

Our challenger began moving up the creek. We followed along behind and slightly to one side of her. She had opted to veer to the right fork of the creek into what was called Wari Watla. Continuing

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