A Change of Pace

We all have our premier destinations we'd like to travel to. The ones that we day dream of at work or when releasing our ten thousandth eight inch trout. Most of mine involve an exotic saltwater locale, far off in some other ocean, with huge fish that decimate gear. These include GT's, triggerfish, permit, queenfish, milkfish, and the list goes on. One's mind can easily slip off to the Seychelles, Oman, or Papua New Guinea where these monsters reside. Alas, some of these places are just out of reach at the moment, or put on hold for later in life. Most of us average joe's are stuck with what we have in our own backyard. In my case, I've been ignoring my backyard for quite a few years now, content with my comfortable routines of trout, carp, and steelhead. In reality, my backyard offers some premier fishing destinations and dare I say it, "world class fisheries". So as the summer doldrums set in, I've been venturing out to see what I've been missing all these years.

The Good Old Days - five of many.

Back in The Good Old Days, we would take a backpack full of cashews, flies and leaders, cache some water along the coastline and spend a week bonefishing on our own private island for the cost of a ferry ticket.  Those weeks were sacred.

The Good Old Days - four of many.

On his birthday back in The Good Old Days, Mark landed our only permit ever, immediately after breaking his 6wt and destroying his brand new DSLR.  Thus, totally redeeming himself.

The Good Old Days - three of many

On our first trip back in The Good Old Days, Adam landed both the first tarpon and the first bonefish he ever cast at.  That might have never happened before anywhere on Earth, or maybe it has.  

Either way, it was awesome.

The Good Old Days - two of many.

This one time, back in The Good Old Days, my sister and I walked to the flat down the street and she caught a bonefish before either I or my brother did.  She'll never let us forget it.

The Good Old Days - one of many.

They're right there.

Back in The Good Old Days, my brother and I sat and watched the sun set from my front porch every evening.  Through the haze the sun looked like a giant planet as we rotated away on some far away moon.  We could stare straight at it.

Later, we went fishing as if it was no big deal.

A Time For Predators

As the sun sets in the Caribbean it is gradually replaced by the moon, which, depending on its phase, can be pretty darn bright. For a fly fishermen, the night is a time for predators. Usually, the darker it is, the better. Tarpon, cuda, jacks, snappers, and of course, sharks are all on the prowl. All one has to do is find a source of light shining into, on, or in the vicinity of water and you will find predators. The light draws in the prey, baitfish and other assorted goodies, which, in turn, makes them an easy meal for the big guys.

On my first few trips to these islands, most of my fishing took place at night. I was all about the tarpon. My brother and I zeroed in on a few spots and found a few others. The fish were untouched and obliged on cast after cast. On the last two trips, the fish had grown weary of our techniques and flies and were much harder to catch. Subsequently, I had grown more fond of stalking fish on the flats. The tarpon were more of an afterthought. On these islands, the fish are resident juveniles. Only around fishing docks, where the fish gorge on scraps, do they approach one hundred pounds. On average, they are around 30-40 pounds.

Tarpon and barracuda tend to position themselves in areas where they can ambush their prey. They congregate on the edge of the light or lay and wait in deeper areas around structure. Tarpon's eyes have evolved to be highly effective nighttime hunters and are angled upwards to see their prey. Fishing towards them is all about having a silhouette against the light and purple tarpon toads are usually the fly of choice. For the cuda, one will have a much better chance with a spinning rod. It is hard to trick these monsters into taking a fly because you can't generate enough velocity to get them to take.

My brother and his friends have made it a habit to routinely get together for an evening session of fishing. In these gatherings, fly rods, spinning rods, and hand lines join forces to catch a wide variety of fish. All three disciplines usually receive action, which can make for a great night out. 

Better Together

Good Morning Baja

After landing the Dorado on fly, we had achieved one of the two things we wanted to do on our guided trip with Baja Anglers. The other awaited us farther up the Sea of Cortez and is one of the sexiest fish alive. 

Exiting the Marina

The Sun is Rising

Ocean Spray

A Common Site In Front of Our Hotel Every Morning

Our guide pulled up on a string of beaches about half an hour away from Land's End. From there, we slowly motored our way up the coast coaxing roosters to the boat using the "bait and switch" method.

Matt and I wanted our father to catch some fish and we let him go first. Armed with a spinning rod, a circle hook, and a live mullet, it didn't take long for my Dad to get into the first fish. For some reason, fishing is hilarious whenever it involves our Dad. It could be the Big Poppa Pump moniker or maybe it is just funny to watch my Dad be out of his element with a rod in hand. I think combining his clumsiness, old age, lack of skill, and then throwing him on a rocking boat did my brother and I in. But, it was funny. Really funny. After that, it was all fly fishing.

My brother was up next, the first to try on a fly. This was also the trial and error period where presentation, stripping mechanics, and all the kinks in the communication between guide and angler were worked out. After missing a few hook sets and popping a fish off after a good struggle, Matt tied into a decent fish. Surprising to all of us, is how hard rooster's fight. Even the small ones could bend the 10 wt. in half, and tear drag off the spin and fly reels.

I bought an Allen Alpha II 9/10 as a backup and it has performed well for me this summer catching tarpon, cuda, roosters, and the dorado. Retail: $140. 

The coast is littered with high end hotels and mansions.
Some of which, are hard to fathom. 

Balancing Act in Blue...

Always Looking for an Easy Meal

After Matt hooked up and released the first Rooster on fly, it was my turn at the back of the boat. Two small roosters whipped back and forth with their combs flaming behind the mullet. The guide lured them back to the boat and I was able to time everything well enough to catch one on my first cast. It was probably the smallest rooster caught, but it was mine. All mine.

Other parts of the coast have your typical Baja desert feel
 with towering peaks reaching to the clouds.

After my fish was gone, Big Poppa Pump caught his, forcing our guide to proclaim him, the luckiest man alive. My brother and I just looked at each other and shook our heads laughing. We couldn't believe it happened.

Matt made the cast of the outing for his next fish. Only 30-40 feet, but on a rocking boat. It landed on a dinner plate in front of a charging rooster the exact second our guide pulled the mullet out of the water. The fly might as well have landed in the fish's mouth as it attempted to swallow the bait. He hooked up instantaneously.

The next two hours produced little action as the seas picked up. In the last hour, Matt and I put down the fly rods for the first time, grabbed two spinning rods with fresh mullet and had them behind the boat. The mullet swam side to side a foot below the water. Suddenly, a large comb broke the surface as a rooster slashed at my bait before inhaling my brothers. He waited 5-10 seconds before setting the circle hook in the corner of the fish's mouth. He was in for a fight having hooked the largest and sexiest fish of our trip.

I know we cheated on this trip. Roosters from a boat aren't exactly as difficult as catching them from the beach, where anglers can go days without a chance. However, roosterfish aren't dumb. They are intelligent and the memories of them tracking our flies, swerving side to side, and inspecting it from all angles will be seared into my memory. Beyond these images, the stories and experiences with my brother and father will be told for years to come. It always seems to be better when we are together laughing and sharing the moment.

We will go back to Baja sometime in the future. I feel like I have unfinished business with the challenge of one on foot, DIY style. I have visions of a tent, an atv, and maybe a rented house. Hopefully, the trip involves friends, family, and a whole lot of good fishing.

Roosters

Maybe, just maybe, the prettiest fish in the sea.