It' been a few years since my first trip to Creighton Island to hunt hogs with my stick bow.  You might recall during the first trip, my skiff, the "Double Haul" went down in bad storm that overwhelmed the bilge and killed my onboard battery.  Honestly, the sting hasn't really faded.  As we pulled up to the island, I metaphorically shook my fist at her and swore retribution.  There had to be blood....