To: CIALFO Travel Desk
Subj: Provincetown, MA fishing trip
What a CIALFO weekend! We had great success preaching the ministry of conservatism to the mainly male, overwhelmingly fit crowd at local watering holes before our fishing expedition out of beautiful Provincetown, Massachusetts. In fact, the crowd was so photogenic, it reminded me of that time when my uncle (by marriage) took me to watch Spartacus at the Alex Theater. That’s when I found out how ticklish I was!
But enough with the fond childhood memories. We stayed at the chic, almost too chic for my midwestern sensibilities, Brass Key Guesthouse right in the middle of the historic Provincetown Wharf. It was perfect for exploring the many welcoming bars and restaurants with my travelling companion, CIALFO lifer, and cousin, Al.
The first night we decided to explore the bustling Provincetown nightlife to see if we could find any folks eager to discuss the benefits of living conservatively near those beautiful waters. And discuss we did! We encountered group after group of rowdy gentlemen excited to engage with Al and I--a couple of gray beards according to the locals!
In fact, they kept congratulating me for landing such a great catch, but we hadn’t even gone fishing yet!
After dinner, we made our way for drinks to the Atlantic House. We had chatted with our charming desk manager at the Brass Key, Karl, about how we were on assignment for a conservative lifestyle blog, and he told us that we could find black bears and otters at one of Provincetown’s historic institutions. We arrived expecting to see trophies from the owner’s many hunts, but he must have confused it with another bar—it didn’t have any hunting decor at all!
However, the patrons were so friendly we decided to stay for an extra drink (or two!). Al was looking good in his World Wide Sportsman Nylon Angler Shirt in Sleet Gray. As the night continued, the bartender suggested that Al and I would enjoy the “Lemon Party” taking place down the street. We thought about checking it out, but too much citrus late at night gives me heartburn. So with my comfy bed beckoning, we said our goodbyes. Better to get a full night’s rest before our fishing charter in the morning.
Al and I woke early for breakfast in the morning twilight. So early, in fact, we saw several pairs of revelers helping each other get home safe from a night out in town. Al remarked what good friends they must be to walk your buddy all the way home. It made me think of my first battle buddy, Jean, from my days with the 182d Field Artillery. We walked everywhere together, sometimes without a destination in mind. Just to enjoy each some conservative male companionship. I bet he’s seen some great fishing trips since our nights in the field.
We took our coffee and Shimano TR100G Depthmaster Trolling Combo poles with us to the docks, and quickly found Cap’n Ron’s 1974 Hatteras party boat: The Third Leg. The website mentioned to bring your own poppers, so we made sure to stock up on Cabela’s excellent “Top Popper” six-piece kit. I was curious as to why we needed surface baits, this was supposed to be a deep-water trip, but Captain knows best so we complied. A boisterous man who gave us a warm welcome, Cap’n Ron was surprised when Al and I told him we were cousins. Maybe he thought we were brothers because of our matching beards and admiration of conservative values?
Now, in my experience, a party boat had always been a cooperative affair where anglers pay per head to share a boat in order to defray fuel and tackle costs. But this sure seemed like something else, we were the only guys with fishing poles! I asked Ron why he called it a party boat, and he said that he used to host parties in international waters to get around some of the more burdensome local laws. Finally, a forward-thinking Captain who has found a way around those thugs at the DNR who zealously enforce redfish limits-CIALFO at its core!
Al pulled out his dramamine tabs -- for being a Navy guy he sure does get seasick on small boats. One of our fellow party members asked if he could have a couple for himself and his friend. Al obliged and the kind young gentlemen suggested Al and I each take one of his pills. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the handsome gent said he took one on this last party boat trip and it made him feel amazing. Whatever it was sure did the trick because I didn’t get sick...although I hardly remember even casting a line. The seas must have been choppy because my legs, lower back, and even my jaw were sore; probably a lot of stumbling around and horse play. What a great group of guys. Skunked on this trip, but those reds will be in for it when Al and I make our yearly winter pilgrimage to Key west!