The Unexpected Main Event

On Saturday morning while boarding our airline, Jenny and I attempted to switch seats with someone wanting to swap their center seat for a window seat, because we did not originally have seats next to each other. A man sitting next to Jenny with a "window" seat, which did not have a window, eagerly accepted my actual window seat. While I got situated in my new airplane cubical environment, Jenny stuck up a conversation with her neighbor on her right, in the aisle seat. He tells Jenny that he has a fishing trip planned. Jenny replies, "Oh, this guy (pointing to me) would love to be able to do that".

Our new friend tells us that he has a small panga reserved, and because he is solo there is room for one more. I am filled in on date, time, costs, etc. Before we even leave the ground, I have an adventure planned. Shortly into the flight we exchange phone numbers and email. I ask where he lives, and it turns out he lives about a mile from me. After further discussion, I tell him I am bringing a fly rod and learn he is bringing his travel 9WT. Shortly after this, I learn he is a fellow Trout Unlimited member. I didn't envy Jenny for having the center seat and the being in the cross fire of the two of us gabbing about some of our fishing travels, fishing victories and defeats. It was great. Made for a short five hour flight for Ron and me; likely made Jenny's flight about ten hours.

Wednesday morning came too quickly. I arose before it was bright, but it was certainly early, at five in the morning on vacation. It's always easier to wake up early on vacation than to wake up early for work. Funny how that works, eh?

After a short taxi ride to the marina, I learn I am too prompt for Mexican vacation scheduling. I waited around forty minutes before any sign of Ron or our captain. I was second guessing the day and date, the dock, and the boat name. Turns out I just run too early on days like this. I only run early on exciting days like this.

After meeting my companions for the day, getting settled and rigged up, we leave the slip to go buy bait. First time I've ever purchased live bait from another boat.

What this picture does not show is the craziness of the marina. There were boats traveling every which way. We also had to stop and buy licenses.Thankfully we did, because we were stopped and requested to present them on our way leaving the marina. Mexican jail nor paying a heavy fine do not sound as pleasant as a simple day on the water.

Cruising a little ways out of port, just past the tip of the Baja Peninsula, we turn west and head into the Pacific. We immediately rig up these short, stout rods about as flexible as pool cues, and troll these small squid looking lures (or flies). This is neat and different than Great Lakes fishing in a couple ways. 1, you troll fast, 2 no down rigger necessary, so you don't have as much rigging and tangles to address, and 3, you never know what you are going to catch.

While losing a couple others, Ron and I each landed a fish while trolling in this area; bonita:

Ron was up a little later when a rod started dancing, and brought in this guy...

He was quickly released as neither Ron or I wanted much fish to take home. Ron wanted one meal's worth of fish and I didn't want anything. I was staying at an all inclusive and didn't have a place or need to cook. Ron did have a little kitchenette, but filled his need with the bonita.

After this dorado (Mahi Mahi) was caught and released, Captain Justo offered us a choice: go further along the Pacific coast and pursue possibly large rooster fish, or head back into the Sea of Cortez and target rooster fish along with other inshore species. The drawback is there are smaller fish in the sea, while the Pacific had higher winds and waves to match. Captain also said we could try working the fly rod in the sea, because the winds we be more forgiving.

We opted to troll back east to the sea. This is also when we rigged up with live bait. I don't know what  the bait fish are called, but they are the size of keeper bluegills and perch, and cost three dollars a piece.

We cast out the bait about sixty feet behind the boat and continued trolling, really close to shore; 30 yards, give-or-take. We were essentially free-spooling the baits out there, using our thumbs to provide resistance so line would not continue to unravel. In the meantime, Capt. Justo told Ron if he wanted to use the fly rod, now was the time. As we continued to troll the bait on my rod, Ron trolled a darkish colored baitfish pattern on his fly rod.

Monotony set in with the trolling, but not for long. In my experience when fishing, as soon as you forget what you are doing and your mind wanders, that's when the fish attack. It's like they know when your guard is down.

ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (sound of reel, not me sleeping)

Capt: Get ready, Amigo

Me: That's a fish, huh?

Capt: You think so? (laughs) Get ready to set hook.

Me: Now?

Capt: Not yet.

Me: Now?

Capt: Yeah, what are you waiting for?

I laugh, flick the lever or the level-wind reel to create tension, and give the hardest hook-set I've ever pulled. Now line is really peeling out and I am wondering if I flicked that lever correctly and all the way. Yes, I did. How can this be pulling more line even faster than when it was free-spooling?

After a few minute battle, I see the flash nearby the boat. I reel in up to the leader and Capt. Justo unhooks this guy. Heck of a fight for his size. It'd take a beast of a small salmon to match the rooster's power. And this is a small one...

A little while later, my reel starts singing again. This time, a longer run. A much longer run. Same process: let it run, flick the reel's lever, and give it hell. Oh man did this next one run. Crazy! Capt says hang on, this is a big fish. After a longer battle and still no sight of a fish, I'm starting to have visions of guys holding rooster fish the size of Labrador retrievers.

As the fight came to it's conclusion, I learn it wasn't a rooster fish. It wasn't a lab. Meet Mr. Pacific crevalle jack.

All the while, Ron continued trolling flies. Eventually, he switched to his personal light spinning rod and rigged up with the same hook and live bait on my line. A short while after my second lengthy battle, my line started burning off my reel again. The friction from the line burned my left thumb on this fish. I offered the rod to Ron. He declined but I insisted.

He takes the rod and this fish is still burning line. Crazy. I am trying to be tough, but man is my thumbing hurtin'. I wound up with a good blister on that thumb. Meanwhile Ron is really duking it out with this fish. We don't know what it is. Big rooster? Big Jack? None of the above.

This guy is a Sierra mackerel. Awesome fighter. The size helps.

This was the conclusion of the catching part of the day. We continued to fish and eventually switched over to fast trolling large squid flies for striped marlin. Capt. Justo informed us this was not the popular area to fish for them. He also mentioned they can be anywhere and are caught in-shore, too.

No marlins on Tres Marlins today. No worries.

Thanks to Captain Justo for the friendly service, interesting conversation, and on top of that, getting us on fish (and close to some humpback whales, too)!

Thanks very much to Ron (and his wife) for arranging the trip and cordially welcoming me to join him.

I had a great time and made a new friend. In the mean time we caught some fish, too. I can't ask for much more.