jose hells bay
Carter Andrews of Panama’s Islas Secas reflects on the tragic death of his friend, Jose Wejebe:
On Friday evening when I first heard of your accident, I was overwhelmed and could not control my emotions. It was a difficult night trying to accept that you were no longer with us. When I woke on Saturday, the nightmare was still there.
You have done so much for me, shared so much with me. Over the years there have been so many things I have wanted to say but as men we just don’t really say those things to each other. Yesterday I went out in the boat, I talked out loud and I said everything that I should have said before. Jose I hope you heard, I meant every word.
Love you Bro
For over 15 years I lived, loved, laughed and fished, alongside my dear friend. There is no doubt that now a large piece of my fishing experience is gone forever. That said, every ocean I fish and every cast I make, Jose — you will remain with me. You have given me so much, and now this morning I am hoping that I gave you enough in return.
All of our experiences together stand out that much more now: the marlin, tuna, wahoo, snappers, grouper and bonefish — we always gottem. That is, except once. We were cast-netting mullet in a nasty, stink-ass salt pond that sunk you to your knees, grabbed hold, stole your shoes and dumped you on your face, all while you tried to throw a 12-foot net. It got even funnier when Robbie and Jose got in some little-ass, 10-foot tin pan and tried poling for the baits. Well, two hours later and no bait in the boat, we bailed on that idea, changed plans totally, and in the afternoon got Jose his first Blue Marlin. There will never be another Spanish Fly.