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CHECK OUT THE CURVES ON THAT


FISHING KAYAK. WHAT A HOTTIE! PHOTO: PAUL LEBOWITZ


EDITOR’S ANGLE


LOVE ‘EM AND LEAVE ‘EM I


t started with a marriage of convenience. My first fishing kayak, a Malibu II, wasn’t


the fastest, the most up to date, or even much of a looker. It did one thing that other kayaks in my price range didn’t. There was room up front for my five-year-old. That modest aqua barge was our constant


companion. We played tag with trout on pine- fringed mountain lakes, teased crappie with dough balls improvised from Fritos, and tus- sled with saltwater bass. The boy, though, liked little more than to splash and play. He’d jump in and I’d fish him out. Good times on that stable Ocean beast, but my eyes were straying. On early Saturday morning solo missions,


I’d strap my cut-down crate into the rear seat and make my plodding way to the kelp. I’d watch with envy as other kayak anglers breezed by in their Scupper Pros and stretched-out Wildys, fishfinders mounted on the molded- in consoles and full quivers of rods standing tall in Scotty and RAM rod holders.


10 …KAYAK ANGLER EARLY SUMMER 2012 Old Aqua didn’t stand a chance. I left her


behind for a hot new flame, a cherry red Tar- pon 120. Ooo, she was a sweet little number and I didn’t have to share. She was mine all mine. We’d slink saucily through twisted back-bay channels and thread streamy nee- dles. Fish succumbed to our every whim. She was my first true kayak love, but flames that burn so hot never last. I dropped her stone cold for a pair of long legs. I’ll never forget my pretty Prowler 15.


I loved her so much I gave her a pet name. Yellow Tailer and I could do no wrong. We chased forkies, dared surging ocean swells and dashed through rock-strewn bone piles, snatching fish from forbidden places. The miles we put behind us—she could gallop with the best of them. That lovely Prowler was freedom and lib-


eration from earthbound cares, but another came between us. Even sleeker, with an ex- otic allure. That’s right, a Mirage Adventure


caught my eye. No longer did I swing a paddle (unless I wanted to). Hobie hands-free! When the wind came up we’d tear past lesser mor- tals, beating others to the spot. We’d crank out cast after cast. That Adventure was not the last of my kay-


ak loves. Since then many other boats have entered my life, each special in its own way. Like the Diablo—built so broad I can dance on her deck. She’s my bass sight-cast one and only. Or the nimble Revo 11, so spritely but she still means business. I’m not ashamed of my fickle ways, not even of that torrid little fling with the sexy Phoenix 160. Woah, did you see that? That new Trident


Ultra 4.3 just shredded that big surf. And look at that trick cockpit hatch. Cool! ‘Scuse me, I’ve got to go. Hey baby… Kayak Angler editor and serial boat philan-


derer Paul Lebowitz believes in free love. At least where man (or woman) and fishing kayak are concerned.


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