Baja Billfish Bonanza!

Part II 0f II

October 20, 2006
By Richard & Deborah Alves

More Articles By Richard Alves a.k.a. steelhead

As we climbed aboard the El Dorado, Roule excitingly explained another skipper had called him on his cell, the only phones working in the East Cape since the hurricane, saying there were tuna at Punta Pescadero. A few miles from there they were also catching giant Humbolt squid which tuna love, so north we went.

There were six pangas fishing squid when we arrived. Jose had let out five hundred feet of line and began jigging. It wasn't long before he was hooked up and working on muscling the brute to the surface. One of the pangas idled by and asked, "Would you like to buy some squid?"

"How much?" Roberts asked.

"Five dollars," was the reply. Jim decided since we had one on we didn't need to buy any.

Jose nearly had his to the surface when the squid managed to get off his jig. By this time Roule was hooked up. He got it to within fifty feet of the surface and it came off the hook! A quick decision was made to buy bait. "The way this is going we could spend half the day baitfishing," Gates chuckled.

Roule idled us over to the nearest panga..."How much?"

"Ten dollars!" We were soon under way with our squid to the fishing grounds.

The fishing was straightforward. A one-inch cube of squid was placed on the hook and allowed to slowly sink. Usually by the time you had fifty pulls out there was something on the line. We were pulling up skipjack and triggerfish, a small sweet eating saucer shaped fish.

Gates' reel started screaming. He waited a few seconds and buried the hook, the immediate recoil from the fish slamming him into the gunnel. He looked over his shoulder and said, "Uh oh, guess what I've got!"

The tuna pulled off a couple hundred feet of line straight down under the boat. Jim would gain a couple of feet and the fish would take it right back. Ten minutes later he looked at me and said, "Why don't you take this thing for awhile. It's wearing me out!" I took the rod and battled the fish to a standstill for another ten minutes. Roberts looked at Deborah and said, "Deborah, take that rod! These guys sure don't know how to boat a fish!"

Deborah gallantly battled the beast for another twenty minutes and was actually gaining when the line went limp. The fish had managed to break 60-pound leader! Thoroughly disappointed we took a break for a well-earned Pacifico.

A few more drifts produced more triggerfish, skipjack and a baby dorado. As we had enough triggerfish boated to start thinking about limits, the decision was made to go back on the troll. Once the El Dorado slowed down to trolling speed we broke out our lunch of fried chicken, burritos and salsa. Lounging on one of the boats bench seats in the shade of the sombrella, Gates commented, "Life is just perfect. Now, if we only had a fish on."

At that exact second Roberts and I saw a huge bill come out of the water and smash the Zucker on the outrigger line. Roule gunned the diesel and we all sprung into action. Gates retracted the sombrella, Jose got the rod out of the holder as Roberts and I brought in the other lines. "Deborah, get in the chair!" Roberts yelled, knowing Deborah had never caught a marlin.

She climbed into the chair and Jose handed her the singing rod. "What have I got on here?" she asked, not yet fully aware of what all the excitement was about. Roberts replied, "You have a marlin on my dear!" The fish made a spectacular leap and everybody cheered. The fight was on!

Roule worked at slowly backing the boat in on the fish. Deborah, masterfully coached by Roberts, would gain on the marlin only to see the fish take off on another flying run every time the EL Dorado was put back in neutral. The fish came out of the water and did a spectacular tail dance while we all cheered.

In the chair, unprotected from the blistering Baja sun, Deborah broke into a full sweat. She managed to get a half a Corona down, with my help, hanging on to the rod for dear life while the marlin made another run. "Deb, you want to hand off the rod?" Gates asked. "My marlin! My marlin!" she emphatically responded.

Over time Deborah, with Roule's help, began to wear down the fish. When the marlin was brought to within a couple hundred feet of the boat, we could see it was a blue, not a striped marlin as we had all thought. "That might be a keeper fish," Roberts commented.

Gates explained to me that male blues only grow to about 220 pounds and since there are many more males then females it is accepted practice to take a male blue in the 200-220 pound class. The same is true for striped marlin in the 110-125 pound class. The larger females are generally released nowadays.

With the fish alongside the boat, a glance at my watch showed we had been fighting the marlin for forty-five minutes. Jose reached over the side and grabbed the bill. The fish smacked him violently with its bill. Roule quickly grabbed the marlin near the tail to subdue it. "Are we keeping it?" Roule asked Deborah. I looked at her as she shrugged her shoulders and said, "You make the call." I took a quick glance at Jim and Jim. All I could see, as they nodded yes with their tongues hanging out, were marlin steaks instead of sunglass lenses. "We'll keep it," I said, knowing blue marlin is quite possibly the finest fish you can eat.

Jose was banged up from his close encounter with the fish in addition to being dehydrated. Gates took him below deck, got some water in him and gave him a beer. I helped Roberts get the gear back in the water. By the time the marlin had cooled enough to skin, Jose set to work and made getting chunks of marlin filets into 2-gallon freezer bags and into the ice chest look easy.

We trolled until it was time to head home without result, flying flags for billfish and dorado. The day's catch numbers were vastly improved as the boat captains had figured out where the fish were. One of the boats had a sailfish double early in the afternoon. Most of the fleet had gone south, some of them as far as the Gordo Banks, searching for tuna.

In the evening a group of us took a ride into the village of La Ribera for dinner at the small restaurant, Los Alcatraces (the Lilies). The van bounced along the dirt back road, the driver carefully navigating around washouts dodging range cattle and the occasional roadrunner. The restaurant didn't sell alcohol, so a couple of us set out for the only liquor store around, maybe a ten by ten room packed with an assortment of old fridges on two walls and the others lined with shelves of tequila. Some of the bottles had been sitting there for so long they were covered with a thick layer of dust. As we uncorked the tequila back at the restaurant, the authentic Mexican food began to arrive; guacamole to die for, huge rellenos, enchiladas and shrimp stuffed potatoes (which were way more shrimp than potato). It was the best Mexican dinner I have enjoyed in years!

DAY 3 FISHING

Deborah stayed on shore today for some relaxation by the pool and a little snorkeling off the rocks in front of the hotel. A few other guests had snorkled the previous night after fishing and had come back with reviews of moray eels, queensland fish, puffer fish, angel fish, scallops and more.

Standing on the beach, as the sun was just peeking over the horizon, Roberts asked, "Did we wear Deborah out yesterday?"

Roule was excited as we climbed aboard the El Dorado. He was certain there was a sizable school of tuna off Punta Arena de la Ventana near La Paz. He wanted to know if we were willing to cruise two hours for a shot at them. Since the route would take us by Punta Pescadero where we could again stock up on squid, we agreed.

Today we were able to get a couple of much larger squid for five dollars each. The bait well was loaded with nearly 80 pounds of squid, sardinas and caballito as we set off for the fishing grounds.

My line got hit on the first drift. The fish swam straight for the bottom pulling like a locomotive. I just hung on and watched line disappear into the deep. For nearly ten minutes I didn't gain an inch. Then it just got too easy and I soon had what turned out to be a huge, nearly 30 pound, skipjack to the boat.

Meanwhile Roberts had hooked into something and was doing battle on the other side of the boat. His fish took twice as long to get to the boat and was a nice yellowfin over thirty pounds. On the second drift I got the yellowfin and we picked up another couple of the giant skipjacks. The water was thick with fish. You could see them swimming all around the boat as Jose tossed handfuls of chunked squid off the stern.

As we were motoring to start our third drift, Roule motioned to Jose who quickly had a caballito baited up and slung off the port side. I saw the marlin take the "little horse" and heard Roule rev up the diesel. It happened so fast that, if I hadn't seen the fish break water, I wouldn't have known what was going on. Gates, who just happened to be lounging in the fighting chair, was handed the rod, reel screaming, and just hung on as the fish went on a tear.

The stunning aerobatics, hootin' and hollerin' lasted twenty minutes before the tired 120-pound striped marlin was brought alongside the El Dorado. Jose grabbed the fish by the bill and he and Roule lifted it onto the transom. A couple of photos were taken and the fish released within seconds.

Fighting tuna in the blazing Baja sun is exhausting. It was mid morning and I was already working on my second two-liter bottle of water. "If it's over fifty pounds I'm going to give you the rod, Gates told me. "I don't want to work that hard," he added.

As we started the next drift Jim's rod got hit, the other Jim's rod got a takedown and then mine went off too! With three fish on Jose kept working a rod with one hand and chumming with the other. When hooked, tuna go deep and swim in circles making it imperative anglers work together to keep lines from tangling or breaking off. As Jim, Jim and I were doing the "tuna dance" Jose got a takedown! After setting the hook, he placed the rod in a holder and put out another line, which immediately got hit. He placed that rod in another holder and set about helping us keep us from getting all those lines crossed up. We had five fish on! Meanwhile, on the flying bridge, Roule was laughing heartily as he watched the Chinese fire drill unfold below.

My fish was a skipjack and was the first boated. Jose handed me another rod and I went back to work. The big, forty-pound, yellowfin tested my endurance. Roberts released a skipjack and Jose handed him the last rod with a fish on. Sweat was running down my face and my shirt was soaking wet when Jose gaffed the tuna and hauled it onboard as Roberts continued to fight his fish.

It was a drift you just dream about, a giant skipjack and a nice yellowfin! In an hour and a half I had boated five fish. Mercifully we had to cruise a couple of miles and I could catch my breath before the next drift. Roberts and I sat down and savored our Negro Modelos.

The next couple of drifts produced fish at a less frantic pace. "Roule, please take us trolling," a tuna-exhausted Roberts begged. We left with 5 quality yellowfin in the box and made for Isla Cerralvo, then turned south on a course for Punta Colorada. We saw a few fish, including a thresher shark, but didn't get any takers.

The fleet had a very successful day. The cruisers fly a flag for each fish caught on their outriggers. Some of the boats couldn't have got another flag on the mast!

That evening during cocktail hour there was a short awards presentation honoring those who had released billfish. Steve Henne, who had released the largest (175# striped marlin), received a certificate for a 4 days-3 nights-2 days cruiser fishing vacation from Punta Colorada and Cabo Fishing Tours. There was an initiation ceremony for the five new members of the "Billfish Club"; I can't tell you what it involves beyond learning the secret Billfish Club handshake. You'll have to find out for yourself. Punta Colorada then put out an incredible Mexican feast and the storytelling and tequila sipping lasted late into the evening.

GETTING HOME

We watched the fleet head out for another day's fishing as the sun rose over the Sea of Cortez. There was plenty of time to relax, have some breakfast, pack for the trip home and settle up with the hotel. The walk-in freezer was opened and Alejandro presided over getting everyone their vacuum-packed fish. Nearly all the boats had decided to divide the catch evenly between their anglers. Piles of fish were sorted and packed into coolers. Our catch amounted to forty-eight pounds of filet yellowfin, marlin, triggerfish and some dorado we traded for.

At the airport Mexican customs agents checked all our bags, coolers and fishing licenses then moved our luggage to the Alaska Airlines check-in counter. To get to the gate we had to present our exit visas. The visas were collected along with our boarding passes as we left the terminal for the walk to our plane.

We were met by a thick blanket of fog as we boarded the 737. "This must be a smoking flight," Roberts quipped. "Welcome to San Francisco," the flight attendant said. With the planes doors open the air conditioned air inside the plane was reacting with the hot humid Mexican air and condensing.

Our flight arrived back at San Francisco during a lull in international traffic. We were the only ones in the cavernous baggage claim area. We waltzed right through immigration and customs (only one of our group was checked) and exited the terminal within twenty minutes.

Planning and preparation by Cabo Fishing Tours had made this a worry-free hassle-free vacation. Every detail within their control was well thought out and organized; down to timing of the flights to coincide with minimal airport and freeway traffic. This made trip preparation a snap and the tour itself relaxing. All we had to think about was what we were going to wear. When done this well, a tour is the only way to go!

For more pictures, CLICK HERE!

Baja Billfish Bonanza Part I

Join us for Cabofest '07...at the nearby Hotel Playa Del Sol, June 2-6, 2007

For more information contact:
Jim Roberts
Cabo Fishing Tours
800.455.3019

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