Guy Harvey Magazine

SUM 2017

Guy Harvey Magazine is focused on fishing, boating, scuba diving, and marine conservation. Portfolios from the world's best fishing photographers, articles on gear, travel, tournaments, apparel, lifestyle, seafood recipes, sustainable fisheries.

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Page 68 of 83 | 69 Episode One - Cornholed I never expected to find myself in a bitter battle of cornhole with the president of a major watersports company. But, there I was, fondling my bean bags and going mano-a-mano with Mr. Doug Skidmore himself, AKA El Presidente de Hobie USA. I warned him that I had once beaten Dr. Guy Harvey himself in an epic cornhole showdown. He looked down at me (he's tall) and smiled in a way to say, "Not impressed, peon scribe." My intimidation methods were failing. On top of that, Doug is a lefty and everybody knows that lefties—from Sandy Koufax to Clayton Kershaw—can toss stuff with scary accuracy. Circumstances had brought me to Tarpon Island, Florida, to test the latest and greatest Hobie kayaks with a gaggle of other writers, photographers and Hobie poobahs. My key contact was Hobie marketing guru, Keeton Eoff, who has become a fishing buddy and friend. Keeton, and his yak posse, had arrived to the isolated island with more than a dozen kayaks of all colors and sizes, and enough fishing rods and lures to start their own online shopping network. The plan was to fish the vibrant grass beds in the area, which is just a few miles south of Boca Grande pass, the well-known tarpon capital of the universe. From the moment I arrived, I fawned at those yaks with Christmas-morning anticipation. I'm what is technically known as a full-on kayak offshore fishing freakazoid (FOKOFF) and I began that journey in the late 1990s, a full decade before kayak fishing became so hip. Just call me a trendsetter. But back then, my buddies ridiculed me. They literally guffawed at my set up. "Hey Lewis," they'd say, "where's your buddy Clark?" Then I started catching more fish. That put a prop in their mouths real quick. Back at the cornhole rumble, I couldn't seem to strike fear into Skidmore. He was obviously a seasoned executive, impervious to weak scare tactics. So, I decided to offer him beer. We were well past sunset and the Florida heat demanded cold liquids, especially since he'd just come from the climate controlled luxury of Southern California where humidity is a concept as foreign as fast moving traffic. Unfortunately, the brewski seemed to calm his nerves and he tossed two bags through the hole back-to-back, Steph Curry style. My chances were looking grim. My only option was to "accidentally" stomp on his foot and hope to fracture a toe. But (full disclosure here), Hobie is an advertiser in Guy Harvey Magazine, so I sequestered my violent tendencies in favor of capitalistic advancement. Nonetheless, I still wanted to beat the man fair and square. But he eventually crushed my dreams and left me staring wantingly at the cooler of beer. I slunked off mumbling under my breath something like, "I'll damn sure catch more fish than he does." Then I opened the cooler and submerged my entire noggin into the icy slush. Left: Aerial view of Tarpon Lodge, the perfect place to relax, eat fine cuisine and hunt for snook, redfish and tarpon. Top: Nestled between Sanibel and Captiva to the west and Cape Coral and Ft. Myers to the east, Pine Island remains a remote hideaway. TARPON ISLAND LODGE FORT MYERS PINE ISLAND CAPTIVA SANIBEL ISLAND BOCA GRANDE PASS

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