2012 Mag Bay is Done!

WELL, WE'RE DONE IN MAG BAY FOR TH WINTER SEASON OF 2012, AND IT'S JUST THE FIRST DAY OF WINTER. I THOUGHT THAT I'D LET SOME LATE SEASON PICTURES DO THE TALKIN'. IN LA PAZ WE HARDLY GET ANY GROUPER ANYMORE, BUT MAG BAY HAS SOME SPOTS THAT CAN'T BE BEAT FOR A VARIETY OF GROUPER IN SOME PRETTY IMPRESSIVE DENOMINATIONS!

ON THE LAST DAY OF THE LAST WEEK THERE WAS A LOT OF WIND OUTSIDE, SO CAPT. CHRIS DECIDED TO FISH IN THE ESTUARY WITH HIS CLIENTS. USING LIGHT TACKLE AND FISHING IN THE JUNGLE THEY CAUGHT A GOOD VARIETY OF FISH, INCLUDING ANOTHER OF THE UBIQUITOUS GROUPER. THIS IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE, LIKE THE "JUNGLE BOAT" RIDE, BUT WITH FISH. WE'RE THINKING OF ADDING THIS AS A REGULAR ONE DAY PART OF OUR TRIP NEXT YEAR.

SPEAKING OF NEXT YEAR, OUR CLIENT BASE IS GROWING WITH ALMOST ALL OF THIS YEARS' CLIENTS ALREADY ASKING ABOUT BOOKING THEIR WEEK FOR NEXT YEAR. WE ARE ALREADY WORKING ON IMPROVEMENTS IN THE PROGRAM, AND EXPECT TO BE BOOKED OUT BY APRIL 15. IF YOU HAVE INTEREST IN THIS UNIQUE AND SPECTACULAR TRIP, BEST TO RECOVER FROM YOUR NEW YEARS' HANGOVER, AND THEN GIVE US A CALL. HAVE A GREAT HOLIDAY, THANKS FOR LISTENING, DAVID

Time for Your Christmas Gold

Winter fishing in La Paz Every year is a little different, especially when it comes to timing for different species. When the water warms or cools drives our seasonal changes in species. Some years the dorado are pretty much outta here by Thanksgiving. Not this year. A case in point is the week that the Honorable Marcos de Cognac has had here this week. (Name has been changed, but he is not nor has ever been innocent.) Marcos has been out the last 5 days and in that stretch he has had 17 dorado (6 of them over 35 pounds), 2 wahoo, 2 sailfish, and 2 striped marlin (one a big one at about 165 pounds). This is a pretty good stretch for mid December. He's been hitting the buoys east of the Cerralvo channel most every day, jigging up the small bonito on Sabikis and then hookin' them up and trolling, around the buoys and climbing up the food chain for some very nice fish. The wahoo were taken on the venerable Rapala cd-18, in purple. A couple of the days have been a little rough, but he's been fishing in the “shadow” of Cerralvo, only a few miles out, and has returned every day with more damage to the fish than to himself. A couple of other boats, working other areas and apparently not learning from his experience haven't done as well, but they have also encountered striped marlin and late season sails. There are general guidelines as to what months hold what kinds of fish here, but the fish don't have pockets and so can't carry calendars, and therefore can and do pleasantly surprise. David

It Just Keeps Rollin' at Mag Bay, one of the finest winter fisheries you can find anywhere.

      The Ol' Doc K.K. with Capt. Chris and one of the yellowtail taken on iron up north from Mag Bay.

             Our stalwart crew for this week, after making a sizable withdrawal at the bank, the Thetis Bank

 This weeks' FF prostaff member Emily Kennelley with a beautiful Broom Tailed Grouper, she showed the guys how, most every day.

                        The fishmobile getting prepped for another day at this world class fishery.

           Another great week at The Mag, great crew with Hansolo, Buddy Bob, and the Kennelleys.

And a Couple More.....

Wednesday the Mag Bay crew stayed a little closer to home after their long trip to the Thetis, catching yellowtail, sheepshead, and grouper, with the largest coming from El Ramon at 140 lb. This day refreshed them sufficiently for a long trip back to the Thetis on Thursday where 4 more wahoo to 45 lbs., and some of those big bottom feeding yellowtail (to 40) were put on the deck of the               . These are great fishing days, variety and quality of fish have been very good, and the weather has been mostly benign.
David

A Hell of a Day, in Mag Bay

Tuesday 11/6/12:
Our intrepid crew motored north off Punta Lazaro, looking for wahoo and tuna. They discovered nothing, and so Chris and Kalin called an audible at the line. With the seas flat they decided to press for the Thetis Bank and went for it. Within 1/2 hour of their arrival there they had 4 wahoo in the boat, and lost another. Then came 3 yellowfin tuna in the 30's and a couple of dorado. While drifting over the top of the bank Capt. Chris was marking fish on the bottom, so suggested using yo-yo jigs to explore these marks. After several large fish b'holed(*) our customers and broke off on the bottom they started to get the knack, and soon 4 yellowtail over 40lbs. were in the box. When the tide shut down they headed for the long ride home. A long day, but an exceptional fishing day, the kind that very few places other than Mag Bay can offer. To Capt. Chris and Kalin, Bien Hecha!

David

(*) b'holed: A contraction of a compound word, referring to the whereabouts of the rod butt upon the rapid , forceful, and continuing downward movement of your rod tip due to the presence a of large and powerful fish on the terminus of your line.   From the latin "anus polus".

11/4/12 GOOD FISHING AFTER YOU VOTE

FISHING REPORT FOR LAS ARENAS AND MAG BAY

IT'S BEEN A GOOD WEEK AT LAS ARENAS. DORADO HAVE CONTINUED SOLIDLY, WITH GOOD QUALITY FISH, 12-22 POUNDS WITH A FEW BIGGER, COMING FROM LAS CRUCES, EL SARGENTO, AND BOCA DE ALAMO ON SARDINES, WHICH ARE BEING NETTED IN MUERTOS IMMEDIATELY AFTER LAUNCHING, IT DON'T GET MUCH MORE CONVENIENT. ALONG WITH THE DORADO HAVE BEEN A FEW BILLFISH, MOSTLY SAILS AND SMALL STRIPERS. ROOSTERS, WITH THE BIGGEST A TAD OVER 90LB. CONTINUE TO BE IN THE AREA, AND HUNGRY. ON THE FULL MOON THIS WEEK WE'VE BEEN HOOKING SOME WAHOO, 3-5 A DAY, AND GETTING HALF THAT TO THE BOAT. THESE ARE COMING ON BIGGER BAITS, AND ON THE ALWAYS FAVORITE PURPLE RAPALA.

MAG BAY HAS CONTINUED TO IMPROVE. THE FISH ARE MOVING FURTHER SOUTH AND ARE CURRENTLY ALONG THE 50 FATHOM LINE. THE FISH ARE NOW FEEDING ON BAIT BALLS, WHICH MAKES THEM EASIER TO LOCATE THAN A FEW WEEKS BACK WHEN THEY WERE EATING PELAGIC CRABS. DORADO TO 35 LBS., YELLOWFIN TUNA TO 40, AND MANY STRIPED MARLIN TO 125 ARE IN THE AREA, AND ALSO THE MUCH SOUGHT AFTER WAHOO. CHRIS HAD 5 HOOK UPS TO 65 LBS. FRIDAY, AND BOATED 4. WITH THE FISH FINALLY COMING SOUTH OFF THE RIDGE THE PROSPECTS AT MAG BAY OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS ARE VERY EXCITING.

DAVID

Treat or .......?

At the time that we moved down here my favorite holiday had always been Halloween. I doesn't belong to anyone, not Hallmark, not God, not nobody, and people can overhaul their outside, and perhaps show a bit of their inside. Sure, there are always the french maids, plastic political masks, and other costumes too easily donned, but between The Old Couple, The Chain Saw Man, and assorted other denizens Jane and I have always enjoyed the opportunity, and have always made up our house to welcome, perhaps scare, and always reward with potential cavities our short term guests. #1 rule has always been that as long as you're not on your adult teeth, trash 'em on Halloween.
When we moved to La Paz, Halloween was not yet very popular. We always managed to get a party together, but the trick or treaters were very limited, a few kids from around the neighborhood who were attracted by the funny noises, weird lights, and yes, the large man with the chain saw. Our kids were in Catholic elementary school at the time, and they would come home with printed sheets, delivered to them at school, that would try to demonize the celebration of Halloween, insinuating that it was based on devil worship, was anti God, and generally a pagan celebration that took away from the traditional Day of the Dead. Well, this year I would like to declare that competition officially over, and the Pope ain't happy. Over the years kids got more and more into it, and every year for the month of October or so the grocery stores would start to have more candy, and even a few costumes. Every year more kids would come to our door for candy. That has grown beyond any predictable bounds. Now that old time long break between Sept. 16 and December 25 (remember we don't do much for Thanksgiving here) is being filled with Halloween. The grocery store that I shop at has several inflatable Halloween decorations to put in, and consume, your front yard, with sound, and electricity. $400, shrieking all the time, making shopping a real pleasure.
The last couple of years Jane would buy250-300 pieces of candy, and about 9 or so she would run out and go get a little more. This year I decided that that wasn't gonna happen and bought 500-600 pieces of candy at the City Club store. Well, they were lined up 25 deep at the door from 5:30 on and by 7:15 we were out. Jane went and bought 3 huge bags more, and by 8:30 that was gone. The beat us, we had to take down lights and shut the doors while the streets were still awash with goblins. Hundreds of cars, mostly mini vans, were parked along the street burpin' out kids like a dorado that has had too many sardines. Jane said that the paper had had a list of the best t or tin' places in town and that our neighborhood was on it. I bet. It's fun to beat the Catholic church, even if you have to be on the side of dentists to do it.

David

The Fall, and an Old Mans' Thoughts Turn To....

The end of another fishing season in La Paz. While the dorado continue to bite, the customer flow is starting to dribble. Some of the best weather and fishing of the year is going to waste. Had Robert Glenn and his band from Boise down this week, and like every year their coming signals that winter is somewhere not too far past the green flash. Bob is one of my favorite guys, an old school gentleman, literate and well mannered, yet ribald and baudy at just the right times. The kind of guy that it's really hard not to admire.

Mag Bay is still rippin', giving us a fine counterpoint to the last refrains from our home town. Chris had some fellows that purchased a trip that we donated to the Make a Wish foundation and even though they had some windy days, they also caught tuna, dorado, wahoo, and striped marlin, and in fact one of them wants to come back down, this year, with some other friends. I think that we can get that done for him.

My thoughts turn to baseball. I was born in 1952, the Giants moved from N.Y. in 1953, and then we both waited. Through some great years for S.F. baseball, the Dodger rivalry, Marichal boppin' Roseboro on the head, watering the base paths for Maury Wills, The Baby Bull. Then came 2010 and all that waiting seemed as an instant. I was so proud for my team, and happy. And now, they're doin' it again, differently, maybe better. Although this team seems to me as a bunch of selfless guys, a real team, gettin' it done everyday, different heroes, no goats, all covering each others' backs, it must be to their opponents as though they are facing an unforgiving reptile. You make an error, bobble a ball, send a runner at the wrong time, hang a slider and you're toast. Like a boa constrictor they throw their coils around you and wait. If you exhale, even the slightest bit,  they tighten up accordingly, and slowly, without a lot of fanfare, you become dinner. Good luck Detroit, and I don't mean that at all.

David Jones

Fishing Report 10/22

Things have been going well down here, wet but well. We've had some rain , and hurricane Paul, which was worse on the Mag Bay side than in La Paz. Dorado keep comin' outta Las Arenas, they're like the postal service, "through wind and rain and dark of night" etc. Most of the best dorado fishing has been in the area between Sargento and Los Cruces, with no huge fish but lots in the upper 20's. Squid, sardines, or bonito strips have all been working. A few billfish, both stripers and sails have been coming in incidental to the dorado. No tuna in the area for a week or so.
The Mag Bay area was hit hard by hurricane Paul, we were lucky in that that week was our only one without bookings, and so we have used it to clean up the mess, get the boat tuned etc., ready to get back in the game this week.
david

Pics? Eh, Eh? Into Pics are we?

some nice pics

An MRI of Time

Well they say that times loves a hero,
But only time will tell.
If he's real, he's a legend from heaven,
If he ain't he was sent here from hell. 

Hear me well,
Seeing ain't always believing
Just make sure it's the truth that you are seeing
Eyes sometimes lie, eyes sometimes lie
They can be real deceiving

      -Payne, Barrere., Gradney

Experience is a funny thing, we rely on it, swear by it, and use it to differ or agree with our friends and those for whom that word does not apply.It's real, but as the boys from Little Feat say above, it can be deceiving. We don't have a lot of clients down here now, but the ones that we have are long term, multiple times a year types, and great guys to boot. I won't mention their names, because that's not the point, and I am in no way casting aspersions upon any of them, in any way. Here's the point, the group from La Paz went out in two pangas yesterday and scored big time on dorado, big time. No huge fish but nice ones between 20 and 26 pounds, from which they selected their limits and played catch and release with the rest.  They were nice enough to take us out for a seafood based Chinese banquet last night, very yummy, and one of them said, " We haven't seen dorado fishing like that in La Paz since we started coming down here." That's an exact quote. Then we swing our camera over to Mag Bay, where a new group went out on their first of 4 days fishing this week. Nice guys, been coming down here since before the Jones family took the big leap, and good fishermen. When talking to their "leader", he said to me, "It was great, we haven't seen dorado fishing like that in La Paz in 10 years." In talking to Chris he said that they got easy limits and then played catch and release with all the fish between 22 and 30 pounds.
Experience, slices of time, like an MRI taking pictures of the brain, a slice at a time. The nice news is that both sets of experiences were positive ones, La Paz and Mag Bay are good places for that,
David

T.K. CURSE LIFTED, FISHING OFF AND RUNNING

AFTER 5-6 DAYS OF REALLY POOR FISHING, YESTERDAY RETURNED TO THE KIND OF ACTION THAT WE EXPECT HERE AND NOW. WHY? I DON'T KNOW, BUT I KNOW THAT I LIKE IT. WE TOOK LIMITS OF DORADO TO 22.5 POUNDS YESTERDAY, EASILY. LAST WEEK HAD A LOT OF STORM ACTIVITY IN THE AREA, MIRIAM OUT TO THE WEST, NORMAN APPEARING ON OUR DOORSTEP AND WANDERING AROUND THE AREA FOR A COUPLE OF DAYS, MAYBE THE BAROMETRIC PRESSURE WAS THE CULPRIT, MAYBE THE LEFT OVER KARMA FROM THE GENERAL, WHO KNOWS? THE HUMBOLDT SQUID HAVE BEEN HERE FOR THE LAST 4-5 DAYS AND MAYBE THE EAU DE CALAMAR IN THE WATER HAS BECKONED THE DORADO, AGAIN, HARD TO TELL, BUT EASY TO ENJOY. NEW GROUP OVER TO MAG BAY THIS WEEK, REPORTS WILL BEGIN TOMORROW OR WEDNESDAY.
DAVID

Fishing Report for Terry

Well, wouldn't you know it, first week comin' up at Mag Bay, and hurricane Miriam (Hans' mothers' name) comes boppin' along to remind us about best laid plans. But first, so I don't disappoint the General, A FISH REPORT FOR LAS ARENAS: Fishing the last couple of days has been a SUCK+. Yesterday we took some dorado, but nothin' to write home about, although that's what I'm doin', and today was worse. What's this about? Well, could be a bad couple of days, could be wacky barometer in front of the storm, could even be the presence of the General himself, causing the deep inner insecurities of the fish to blossom into full blown depression and a lack of desire to participate in their normal activities. Probably not. From the perspective of the human senses there isn't anything particularly different about the last two days, just been shitty. Won't last long. Some friends from Alaska are heading north today, to San Carlos, and we're hopin' that they'll get a couple of good days in before the sky begins to fall. One day at a time, one step at a time, poco a poco,
David

Why the Hell does he keep talkin' about Mag Bay?

"The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds, and the pessimist fears this is true."

Well, aside from the obvious, that being that it's part of our business and we want it to be successful, it's a bit of a labor of love for us. This is a very special place, and like most special places, probably not for everyone, but for those that see it for what it is there aren't many places left within our reach, both practically or actually, that are like this. You've heard alot about it, but not very many have been there. The long range boats and cruisers moving between Cabo and California have encountered it for years, and so the legend has sprouted and grown. It's easier to go past than it is to go to. As was once said about Oalkand, Ca., "there ain't much there there." But that's the point, the people of San Carlos, Lopez Mateo, and Margarita live their lives in an area that will not overwhelm you with cantinas, time shares and golf courses, but head out into a world that is not under the thumb of mankind and it's like you stepped into Animal Planet, with a healthy dose of your favorite fishing show, only it's in 3D and it doesn't stop every 12 minutes to sell you a liner for your pickup or have Sally Struthers make you feel guilty, and the only guy shouting, "That's Awesome" is you. The house is on the island, a couple minutes walk from a "town" made up of lobster fishermen and those who love them. It's not a very sophisticated place, but that's the point, and rumours are that the restaurant there has wifi. Electricity comes from the town during the daylight hours and into the early evening, and then we go on batteries and generator power. The kitchen at the house is a very special place, properly conditioned, like a good cast iron frying pan, by the past efforts of Chef Bobo. Chris has a deft hand in the kitchen and turns out dinners, and the occasional lobster omlet, utilizing some of the best, freshest, seafood that you'll ever encounter. The Mag Bay area is known for scallops, shrimp, and lobster, but also features blue crabs, geoduck clams, and some pretty savory fin fish as well. Chef Bobo whips these prized ingredients into food that every one of our past customers has pointed to as one of the many high points of their trip. During the day, your chef transmogrifies into one of the better deckhands I've fished with. Chris loves this area, and it shows. Team him up with Capt. Juan Bejerano, a local fish coop owner in San Carlos, U.S. Coast Guard licensed Captain, damned fine fisherman, and a very entertaining fellow and you've got a team that we're quite proud of. We acknowledged in La Paz years ago that the biggest differentiating factor between my business and others attempting to do the same thing is The Fishermens' Fleet has a superior team of Captains, a level above those of our competition, and we've continued with this winning strategy in Mag Bay. Our 33' foot cruiser, so far unnamed, has been recently outfitted with fresh twin diesel motors, new electronics, new AC generator, and new canvas and curtains. It's lookin' good, and this mornings' report from the crew currently bringing the boat down from Long Beach is that it "purrs like a kitten". (For those of you familiar with Chris' somewhat less than optimistic view on many things particularly mechanical, that quote from him should turn your head, it did mine) We've been working on many fronts ie. boat, house, logistics, booking customers, and now the last six months of work is coming together, like the final scenes from "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World".Why to I keep talking about it, aside from the obvious? I'm damned excited, that's why!

David

We're back!!

One blue star/ Sets on the hill
Call it back/ You never will
One more star/ Sinks in the past
Show me something/ Built to last


Built to last till time itself
Falls tumbling from the wall
Built to last till sunshine fails
And darkness moves on all
Built to last while years roll past
Like cloudscapes in the sky
Show me something built to last
Or something built to try.

 Well, while fishermen play in the rain, we've been a buildin'. Rain? Rain? It don't rain in La Paz, or at least it hasn't for the last 3 years or so. Now it do! Afternoon deluges, water runnin' like blood in the streets, Buicks with bow wakes, a thorough bidetifying of your cars undercarriage, swimmin' pools fillin' themselves, dogs smellin' like wet dogs, a joyous Sandoval seen dancing in the rain like Gene Kelly or maybe more like Snoopy, it's muy bueno amigos. While the fishermen have been able to get out everyday and have stayed pretty dry, when they return at the end of the day they are chased over the mountains by 50,000 foot structures of aerial agua, black and foreboding, which then conspire to drop their load on the berg in which we live, accompanied by explosions of light and sound that Zepplin or the Stones could only fantasize on.

 Dorado had been wide open until about 3 days ago, right before the full moon, and then it slacked for a couple of days, maybe on the moon, maybe because it was a little windy and the guys couldn't range so far. today it picked up again and we did well on dorado in the 12-25 pound class with a few larger, and roosters with fish to 45. Comin' off the back side of this moon we'll expect to have more large fish, and their are rumors of tuna on the 88, with a couple of boats headin' out tomorrow to check that one out. Sandoval (unofficial holder of the world record for the biggest goddamn needle fish you ever saw) and Dossey will be there, givin' it what they got.

Building things, we've been building this Mag Bay project up over the last 4 years. When we first went over there it was obvious to all of us that we belonged there, not only because the fishing was of a quality and availability that we couldn't personally resist, but because all that we've learned in La Paz over the years could be brought to bear on this place affording us a chance to do something really special. Something that no one was at that time doing, and other than us, is still not doing today. Sure there are operators there, but at the risk of sounding puffy, none of them has our experience, talent, or drive for service. This place deserves us, and I hope that we can work hard enough to deserve it. Each year we've made improvements, going from live aboard to land based, upgrading boats, acquiring partners and capital, getting the best Captain and deckhand team in the area, learning the ins and outs, and with the help of our clients tuning it up. This year we've expanded the weeks being covered, and are about 75% booked. A new boat, that went through its' initial sea trials late this last week, is being moved down in another 10 days or so. It's not a new boat, but newly redone, and new to us. Capt. Juan Bejerano, Chris Jones, and Hans Solo are heading north to bring the boat down, hopefully dancin' 'tween the 'canes, and arriving at Mag Bay, our favorite place. We just auctioned off a 4 person week there via the Make a Wish foundation, and some lucky guys from The Tuna Club are goin' over, probably in October. It'll become their favorite place. It could become your favorite place as well up to you. Think about it.

David

Like a steam locomotive
Runnin' down the track,
He's gone, gone, and
Nothing's gonna bring him back.

Andres Graff Navarro aka "Andy" has been helping us in the office for the last six months or so. A long time elementary school buddy of Chris', Andy has been assisting us with what he calls "social media", a phrase that younger folks roll off of their tongues easily and often, and that those of us who remember movies made before 1990 stumble on a bit as when you put it together with "viral marketing" it sounds like your computer may well have the clap. Facebook presence, our new website, a Mexican fishing magazine article, and making a lot of coffee were just a few of the things that Andy had been working on, with Bobo. These things all seem to be having some positive effect, but like any list of tasks or accomplishments, do not do justice to the person. "Marketing Man" as we was, Andy was still a positive addition to our office. His sense of humor, imagination, and overwhelming sartorial splendor were entertaining and brought a non Jonesian perspective into our inner sanctum. .
Did he die? No. Andy received a job offer in Mexico City, El Grande Manzana, to work at an honest to god advertising agency, on a three month project that may well turn into permanent employment. He was excited, perhaps a bit nervous, but jumped on the opportunity like a dorado on a sardine. After saying goodbye to his parents, sainted arbuelo "The Woverine", and choosing which of his clothes and shoes to leave behind, he headed to the big city, a lot like Marlo Thomas in "That Girl".
Given Andy's talent, intelligence, and inner toughness, I don't think that we'll see him again, at least in a professional context.
Speaking of dorado, that's been going along well, with lots of small to medium fish in the Sargento area and still a good amount of 40+ fish on the buoys. Striped marlin have moved into the Cerralvo island channel, and we're stiill encountering tuna every 4th day or so. There was a lot of wind yesterday, and today it is actually raining, for the first time in a long time. I'm certain that this local weather aberration will quickly pass and we'll get back to the fishing business at hand.
David

Gotta Fish!

Visions of tomorrow
All modeled on today
More we try to prophesy
The more we go astray
Ain't no easy answers
Forget your crystal ball
Yesterday got blown away
For writing on the wall
              R. Hunter

Fish reports. I love 'em, I hate 'em. While the details of a particular days fishing can tell you alot about that day, you have to understand the basic rotations of a given location over the seasons, and watch for trends in the reporting. Some guys'll give you a report of bad fishing, some won't . "Call me when the tuna are biting!" What if that bite is one day long, or ends tomorrow, and I've already made that call. That's a hard one for me, for most of us to get outta work, schedule airfare, get permission from the defense department, and get out the door ain't that spontaneous a move, hell, sometimes I can't get out when I know things are going off, and I already live here! Now is just about one of those times. I've had an itch for some wahoo for the last couple o' months, and I've been waiting. With the water warming up the bait fish are coming in from the buoys, and many are starting to assemble on the high spot known as Roca Montana. This is a large plateau type rock several miles to the SSE of the lighthouse on the SE point of Cerralvo. It is a spot shallow enough for light to penetrate, hence some plant life, ergo bait, y voila fish. Along its' east side there is a cliff that goes down about a kilofoot, and this provides cover. All in all a very fishy spot, and depending on the time of year a good place for huachinango, marlin, tuna, or most particularly wahoo. So we have water temps rising, bait moving in to RM, and for the last piece of the puzzle a full moon coming. About 3 days ago I started advising customers to "give wahoo a shot", even though we hadn't caught more than one or two in the last couple of weeks. Sure enough, Saturday we got one, Sunday 2, Monday no fish in the boat but all three boats reported multiple strikes and fruitless hook ups. This is building towards the luna lena, and I can feel it. Predicting the future is a hopeless venture, and discussing the past is driving while looking solely in the rear view mirror, but recognizing patterns, understanding not only one data point, but recognizing which direction the arrow is pointing is the whole point of information gathering. I think that I'll go fishing Thursday or Friday. So should you.
david
P.S. For those of you interested in a specific time for you Mag Bay adventure, now is the time to begin those discussions

The Real Thing

This is the real thing, ain't no doubt about it,
Who cares if they remember when you're gone.
This is the real thing, so you were put here for a reason
But what gives you the right to quit when you're tired?
Anyway boy, this ain't no game
This is the real thing.
                               W. Haynes

I happened upon a couple of real things this week. One of them is a fisherman, the other a fish. Esteban is a man who spends his life trying to help our kids through the California Public School system. He is a smart guy, always thinkin', but he likes to have a good time and mess around with "the boyz". Every year he comes down with three friends, the same three, and then he usually figures out how to sneak down alone in the fall. He likes to take fish home, doesn't take slow fishing kindly, not that he acts with any degree of unsportsmanlike behavior, he is always polite and generally lighthearted, but you can see on his face that he is tryin' to think his way around the less than light speed fishing. They come down for a week or so, and fish for 4 days, taking the last day off to relax before returning home, but not Esteban. When they check in he always says, "Well I might want to fish that last day, would that be ok?", and he always fishes that last day, alone. Over the years the roosterfish has left its' mark on Esteban. He asks about them now and then, talks about our passed friend Rooster Bill, and always has a big smile when he catches one. It's gotten under his skin, and he don't mind. Well, Esteban and his buds were here this last week. They had  run across some billfish and  done ok on dorado, getting a fair amount of small ones everyday, along with a couple of big ones, one rumored to be a 25 kilo fish that I am still waiting for the picture of, and could count on their ice chests being heavy enough to feel good about taking home, but Esteban wanted to fish that last day. Who could have guessed? He went out fishing alone, while his friends decided to 'lax.
When Esteban mozied into the office at the end of the day (he really does mozie) he smiled his broad smile that takes 10 years off his hard workin' face and said, "It was an epic day!".  He proceeded to describe to me a day that started with a 30 pound rooster fish, and then continued to provide him with six more roosters with one topping 75 pounds. Lots of folks who come down here have finished the day off with a little rooster fishing, and are always happy with fish in the 30's or 40's, but I'm here to tell ya' that if you ever spend a day fishin' nothin' but roosters and are lucky enough to have a day with 4-5 or more roosters with any larger than 50, that you have just had a day of fishing that's hard to beat. These fish are tough, their strike can be vicious, their fight dogged and strong, and when they come to the boat the beauty of these fish, silver with black stripes, overtones of purple and pink, with that distinctive comb, are something that you will not forget. I looked at Estebans' face, glowing with accomplishment, but also appreciative for the experience that he had both earned and been granted, and I will remember that. A couple of real things. I like this job.

David

MIGHT AS WELL, MIGHT AS WELL

NEVER HAD SUCH A GOOD TIME IN MY LIFE BEFORE!
I'D LIKE TO HAVE IT ONE TIME MORE
ONE GOOD RIDE FROM START TO END,
I'D LIKE TO TAKE THAT RIDE AGAIN, AGAIN!

MIGHT AS WELL, MIGHT AS WELL!
                                        - R. HUNTER

HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO GO FISHING YESTERDAY WITH ONE OF MY LONGEST TERM CUSTOMERS (I USED TO USE THE WORK "OLDEST", BUT SOMEHOW THAT SEEMS LESS COMPLIMENTARY THAN IT USED TO), MR. DAVID GOODE, FROM THE FAR FLUNG LANDS OF MINNESOTA. DAVID HAS BEEN COMING DOWN SINCE BEFORE I OWNED THE BUSINESS, AND I'VE ALWAYS LIKED AND ADMIRED HIM. HE WAS ALWAYS A SERIOUS GUY, DETAILED AND PUNCTUAL, BUT ALSO CREATIVE AND WRY. SINCE RETIRING AND MARRYING CHERYL HE'S BECOME SOMEWHAT LESS GRAVE, AND THERE ARE DEFINITE MOMENTS OF WHIMSY. HE'S ONE OF THOSE GUYS THAT YOU LIKE UPON MEETING, AND THE BETTER YOU KNOW HIM THE BETTER YOU LIKE HIM, HE AGES WELL. ANYWAY, CHERYL WAS WANTING TO PURSUE HER HOBBY OF PHOTOGRAPHY AROUND LA PAZ, AND I GUESS I SORTA IMPLANTED MYSELF INTO HER CHAIR ON THE PANGA. THANKS CHERYL! THE FISHING HAS BEEN GOOD OF LATE, NOT EXCELLENT AS SOME DAYS HAVE BEEN STELLAR AND OTHERS NOT. WE'VE STILL GOT SOME GREEN WATER MIXING WITH THE BLUE, AND SO IT ISN'T YET THE ROCK SOLID CONSISTENT FISHING THAT WE ARE ACCUSTOMED TO THIS TIME OF YEAR. IN THE LAST WEEK WE'VE TAKEN PARGO, WAHOO, TUNA, MARLIN, SAILFISH, ROOSTERS, AND SOME VERY LARGE DORADO, BUT THERE HAVE ALSO BEEN SOME OF THOSE BLACK AND WHITE RODENTIAL TYPES THAT ARE THE BANE OF THE FISHING BUSINESS. DAVID HAS A LONG ASSOCIATION WITH CAPT. JAVIER, AND SO I JOINED THESE COMPADRES FOR A DAY OF FISHING. WE HEADED N.E. QUARTERING A 12 MPH N.W. WIND, OUT TO AND BEYOND THE 88 BANK. THINGS WERE LOOKING VERY GOOD, WITH WATER AS BLUE AS YOU CAN GET, LOTS OF BIRDS WORKING, AND ALL KINDS OF BAIT ON THE BUOYS. MOLCATE, COCINERO, ZEBRAS, AND BONITO WERE ALL FOR THE TAKING AND WE KEPT A CONSTANT SUPPLY. THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A GOLD MINE OF FISH, BUT IT WASN'T. THERE WERE QUITE A FEW OF WHAT JAVIER CALLED "TIBURON PILOTO" OR "PILOT SHARKS". I'M NOT FAMILIAR WITH THIS NAME, BUT THEY WERE BROWN, ABOUT 4 FEET LONG, AND REALLY HUNGRY, EATING MOST OF OUR OFFERINGS, AND GENERALLY WEARING THROUGH THE LEADER. ENOUGH OF THAT. WE MOTORED NORTH, AND A LITTLE WEST, AND ENDED UP MORE OR LESS IN FRONT OF THE CERRALVO CHANNEL, AND ABOUT 12 MILES OUT. THERE WERE BUOYS THERE, BUT THE WATER WASN'T AS BLUE, AND WE COULDN'T MAKE ANY BAIT ON THE BUOYS, SO IT DIDN'T SEEM VERY PROMISING. WE TROLLED FOR A WHILE, AND JAVIER LOOKED LIKE HE WANTED TO DO SOMETHING ELSE, BUT WASN'T SURE WHAT THAT WAS. ALL OF A SUDDEN MY REEL WENT OFF AND I WAS FAST TO A 24 POUND DORADO, THINGS WERE LOOKING UP. A FEW MINUTES LATER A 65 POUND SAILFISH INHALED A BAIT, AND DAVID LANDED AND RELEASED THE SAIL. THEN I HOOKED UP TO ANOTHER DORADO, A MALE IN THE MID 30'S. WHILE I WAS PLAYING THAT FISH JAVIER BECAME EVEN MORE AGITATED THAN NORMAL AND STARTED POINTING, "SU ESPOA!" HE CHATTERED, INDICATING THAT HE HAD SEEN THE MATE TO THE FISH THAT I WAS PLAYING, A VERY COMMON THING WHEN DORADO FISHING OUTSIDE. JAVIER FLUNG DAVID'S BAIT OUT AS FAR FROM THE BOAT AS HE COULD AND IT WAS IMMEDIATELY TAKEN UP BY THE PRESUMED ESPOSA. DAVID CAME TIGHT ON THE CIRCLE HOOK (I LIKE THOSE THINGS) AND A 45+ POUND MALE DORADO EXPLODED INTO THE AIR. BEAUTIFUL FISH, BIG, VERY BRIGHT COLORS, AND ALMOST ABLE TO FLY. I CONCLUDED THAT SINCE THIS WAS MY FISH'S ESPOSA THAT THEY MUST HAVE BEEN GAY DORADO. I QUESTIONED JAVIER ABOUT THIS POSSIBILITY
EXTENSIVELY AND BETWEEN MY SPANISH AND THIS UNFAMILIAR LINE OF QUESTIONING HE BECAME SOMEWHAT CONFUSED. I COULD SEE DAVID VIBRATING WITH SOME CHUCKLING WHILE CONTINUING TO STRUGGLE WITH HIS FISH. AS DAVID AND I BOTH SEE OURSELVES AS FAIR MEN, WE CONCLUDED THAT WE COULD WITHOUT PREJUDICE DISPATCH  HOMOSEXUAL DORADO WITH THE SAME ALACRITY WHICH WE NORMALLY APPLY TO HETEROSEXUAL ONES, AND AFTER SEVERAL LAPS OF THE BOAT DAVIDS' FINE FISH CAME TO THE GAFF.  SO THE DAY BEGAN SLOWLY BUT FINISHED WITH 4 NICE FISH IN AN HOUR OR SO AND WE CALLED IT DONE. QUARTERING DOWNWIND ON THE WAY HOME I FELT THAT SATISFIED FEELING COME OVER ME THAT FISHING SEEMS TO UNIQUELY PROVIDE, THE BOAT WAS SKIMMING ALONG, THE SUN WAS SHINING FROM BEHIND US, AND JAVIER WAS WHISTLING AND SINGING, CLEARLY PLEASED WITH HIS EFFORTS AS WE WERE. IT'S A GOOD FEELING, OR IN THIS CASE A GOODE FEELING, HAVING SPENT A MOST ENJOYABLE DAY WITH FRIENDS, AND WITH FISH IN THE BOX TO BOOT. MIGHT AS WELL!

DAVID

MORE NEW THINGS, ER THING!!
Due to the tricky investigative work done by one of my many worms, we've discovered a "new" policy with Volaris airline. For those of you not familiar with V, they currently fly TJ to La Paz everyday, and offer some very good prices. The round trip fare is about $225 or so, and often they have one way tickets for $85. These cheaper tickets are somewhat limited in the luggage weight allowed however, and some customers have been baffled, bemused, and disgruntled at last minute extra charges, particularly when returning home with a large load of richly deserved and hard fought fish. Volaris will now, if you contact them 48 hours before your flight, increase your luggage allowed by 10 kilos (22 lbs.) for 500 pesos ($15 or so), by 15 kilos for 750 pesos, or 20 kilos for 1000 pesos, or less than $2/lb. for some of the finest fishies on the planet. This will come in handy for the increasing number of you who fly the big V, and run into the "problem" of too much fish.
To Protect and Serve,
D

New Things

Well, since we last spoke we've continued to inch, ever slowly towards summer. This year has taken longer, and started later, to move into summer. Green water, cold temps, one day blue and warm and fishful, the next not so much. It appears to have turned the corner now, finally, and the fishing is showing that. Big dorado, over 40 pounds, have been coming in. Not every boat every day, but most boats, most days, and roosters are starting to hit in earnest inshore. Along with that a tuna now and then, George Frendshuh took one at 115 lbs. last week, and a smattering of wahoo. It'll just start getting more consistent now, and more fun for all involved other than the fish. That's new.

We've a new website. Same address, with a brand new look, conjured up by the Beagle Boyz themselves, Chris and Andres. I like it, I hope that you do. You'll notice an emphasis on our Mag Bay stuff, we're pushin' to fill this year, and as of next week we're advertising it on a couple of the west coast fishing forum websites, and anticipating strong interest there, so if you're interested call me and let me know, we'll get you a prime spot and you can avoid those who fish with their baseball caps on backwards.
David

Sapo Verde!

If not for the courage of the fearless crew..........

Cabrizilla

 Must be getting early
Clocks are running late
Paint by numbers morning sky
Looks so phony

Dawn is breaking everywhere
Light a candle, curse the glare
Draw the curtains
I don't care 'cause
It's all right

Sorry that you feel that way
The only thing there is to say
Every linings' got a
Touch of Grey

 The shoe is on the hand it fits
There's really nothing much to it
Whistle through your teeth and spit
'cause it's all right

I will get by/I will survive
We will get by/We will survive
                           r. hunter



 I got kidnapped yesterday, again. This time was so much better than last time, I just can't tell ya'. No really, I can't tell you. Bobo, Romeo, and El Carpintero informed me that all work would stop, calls would be left unanswered, emails would be left without response, facebook comments would be left uncommented upon, appointments would be ignored, bills would be unpaid, all of it! I've fished on each and every of my birthdays, virtually without fail, since 1973 or so, and now that I was turning 60, it wasn't time to break with tradition. "YEA, thrice YEA", says I. After the Las Arenas folks headed off we ran for the good ship Juan and headed out for bait. Bobo and Romeo fought it out in an epic bait-a-thon while El C and I did the play by play, and we soon had a mixed tank full of mackerel and caballito. Off we chugged to a spot near Espiritu Santo island where there are still a few yellowtail hanging, the last of the year. Coming off this full moon, and with water temps rising, I wouldn't expect them to be there on the next moon. Where do they go? Elsewhere. Bobo was lookin' for the last jurel of the year with which to perform his vapor magic, and stock pile some of his delicious smoked fish. ("Which end do you suck on?" is getting a little old, but is still my favorite response to comments about smoked fish.) We did real well on the fish,  passing rods around, helping each other gaff and bleed the fish. The well oiled machine was in full gear.. The fish of the day was one that Romeo hooked up, but handed to me when he had to go gaff one of Bobos'. Well, it didn't fight like a yellow, and it wasn't. What came up was a Japanese horror movie version of a cabrilla, or maybe I was just really close. But no! This fish, on the official FF bathroom scale, went 34 pounds, and the IGFA record currently is in the low 20's. One picture is worth 1000 words, I guess, but let me try anyway. How big was it? It was big enough that we weren't sure what the hell it was. The normal pencil dot spots on the sides were as big around as my little finger. Teeth were all worn down, a definite candidate for implants, like Hans. I've heard about big cabrilla being caught, and Senor Atkins menor caught a really big one a couple years back, but this thing was Cabrizilla. Very cool. After a few hours El C and I were starting to slow down, and then Romeo began to slack, and eventually even Bobo got tired of crankin' yo-yos. We packed up, and started chuggin' home, smiles on our faces, maybe a little younger than we were when we headed out. A great birthday gift! Thanks Bobo, El C, and most certainly Romeo.

Speaking of Las Arenas, that worm has rounded the corner and is headed up the front stretch. As soon as Quinton got here we started getting wahoo, sails, and dorado. The buoys are starting to light up, one of todays' boats got 4 dorado, total 180 lbs. I told ya' we were on the edge, and now we do what only La Paz can do so well. See you soon,
David

P.S. "Sapo Verde" which I believe means green toad in Spanish, is what many Mexicans hear when you and I sing "Happy Birthday", in fact it is kind of a joke here, among Mexicans, when gringos sing the Birthday Song. Kinda like "There's a bathroom on the right" by John Foggerty. So Sapo Verde to you, and many happy returns of the toad..

Evidence of Tuna Assault

Just thought that I'd post the evidence of last weekends tuna terrorist attack. David and Christine Riley, newlyweds from Oregon and family of friends, got the right day at the right time. We took some of this here tuna down to the Grill Campestre and had them do it "al Senor David" and boy it was good. They're not here everyday, but I know that they ain't where you are.
David

Could just be another year......

The wheel is turning
and you can't slow down
You can't let go
and you can't hold on
You can't go back
and you can't stand still
If the thunder don't get ya'
then the lightin' will.
                                R. Hunter

The seasons change, I can tell you what the order of events is, but as to what day, what time, what buoy? Sorry, that's beyond my pay grade, but I can assure you that something similar happened about twelve months ago, and that in another lap of the planet, it'll come up again, reassuringly similar, refreshingly different.  This year in a couple of weeks, I will have been honored to be sentenced to this planet for 60 years. Fate, choices, randomness, they all get thrown together like some bowl of brain coleslaw, each part doing it's job, but better for being blended in small chunks, everything unique, but dependent upon the other chunks for it to work. I feel obligated to try an make some sense of the hash, what if I'd a done that, what if this were different, when the hell am I going to address that weakness, or maybe blame it on someone else? I'm glad that Doc and Betty, and the rest of them standing behind, put this restlessness in the mix. "Get busy livin', or get busy dyin'" they said in the movie, and generally I'm proud to say that we've done the former. Married to Jane for what in comfortable moments seems like ages, and then sometimes like yesterday. Where did it go? Well, there's those three kids, not one of them would I trade for anything or anyone. Lots of interesting stories, the kind where the other guy wonders whether your crazy enough for that to be true, and then looks a little nervous because he decides that you are. I don't jump outta airplanes, or bridges, or even high dives, but we've taken enough chances, headed into the wind, and bet on the ugly horse enough times to know that you just gotta do that sometimes. We watch some movies, but the action thriller shoot 'em ups don't appeal, they are too tame compared to many of the adventures that I/we have had over the last 60 years. It seems as though that outta be a long time, but just the other day I was hangin' out in high school, or was it the Fillmore, or was I wearing my protective cravat. I remember most of it, some of it in shocking detail, but the kids, wedding, decision to come to La Paz stick out, and then the pulsing flow of you guys. Lots of fellow travelers, tryin' to figure it out, gettin' some hits, wandering lonely back to the dugout all too often, but keepin' on, walkin' through the door with ever wrinkling faces taught with the excitement of what could happen tomorrow. That's the deal, isn't it. Whatever your don', do it, don't gum it, chew it. At least as long as you've got teeth.
David

"Win a Few, Lose the Rest" M. Greeley

Those word, sage in their brevity and inevitability, ring just as true with regards to fishing as most everything else. The tuna that attacked us on Friday had moved on by Sunday. These fish were on porpoise, and so are likely in the area, but without a satellite we'll have to rely on someone stumbling across them and reporting in on the radio. The fish are teasing us just a little right now, a few dorado here, a couple of marlin there, a school of tuna breezing through, like the tuning sounds that come from the orchestra prior to the tap of the baton.
david

I Was Just Sittin' There Nodding Off, When.....

"Dave had said that the fishing was a little slow, so I wasn't prepared."

"The reports have only been so-so, and so....."

"Why didn't they warn me?"

"Suddenly we were surrounded, they came from nowhere!"

"They just kept biting and biting, we didn't stand a chance."


TUNA, TUNA, TUNA

They head out today, like any other day, except with customers. Despite reports on other websites vastly inflating the current state of fishing here, those of you who read here regularly know that it's been ok, no better. But today our boats were attacked by a roving band of yellowfin tuna. Fishing at the south point of Cerralvo, trolling Rapala's and using cocinero a school of yellowfin to 60 KILOS attacked our unsuspecting customers viciously, and repeatedly. Boats had enough time for 2-3 fish each, and then were spent. When will the Mexican government do something about the Tuna Cartel? Hopefully with the rapid reflexes and timing that they have historically displayed.

David

Yeah, But Don't You Ever Get Tired of it?

After 16 years of fishing down here, yes, there are times when it's just a job, but not this time of year. The closest analogy that occurs to me is back when music was the biggest thing in my life. Sure, every performance is a new and exciting event, filled with opportunity and obstacle. Even though it's something that you do most every day, every day has its; own challenges, its' own rewards. There is a routine, both comforting and stifling, but within that big circle there are lots of eddies and currents, side trips and things that are about to happen for the first time. But there are concerts, events, which stick out, either by location or by size, or by some other unique criterion. These events are anticipated, looked forward to, even beyond todays' routine. It is like that down here now. Bait is starting to mass both outside on the buoys, and inshore. Advanced scouts with bills, and teeth, and fins, have been encountered, waiting for the water to warm up just a little more. Commercial fishermen return from beyond our range with reports of growing forces about to over run us. The corumel winds are blowing, gently and consistently from the south, pushing tropical temperature waters to us, triggering the summer season. The crowds have purchased their tickets, stand in line talking to each other about past events, things that they've witnessed, and speculating as to what may happen next. The middle men, like my Captains and me, have prepared, getting equipment and attitudes ready to do our jobs, and to enjoy something unique and beyond what most people get to witness. The venue begins to fill, and participants are nervous with anticipation. The house lights wink off, and the White Album fades from the P.A. system. Activity on the stage swells with last minute checks and adjustments. The water here is almost shimmering with the energy summing beneath the surface. 16 years of this? It has merely served to prepare me, to whet my appetite for the excitement, the stories, the smiles. I know from talking to people who fish the world over that this is a special place, perhaps not unique, but very rare. I talk to folks scheduled to come down in the next few months, and they are excited, like kids before Christmas, and that just adds to my anticipation. The standby switches are off, the sounds of final tuning and drum positioning, musicians with as much or more anticipation than the crowd, in the timeless words of Artie Shaw, it's time to begin the beguine.  I love this shit, and it's about to remind me why.
 Have a nice day, I know that I will,
David

Mixed Feelings, Like Mixed Drinks

CAN SNEAK UP ON YOU. WENT UP TO DAUGHTER GLYNNIS' GRADUATION LAST WEEKEND, IN BEAUTIFUL "SOMEWHERE NEAR THE SAN FERNANDO VALLEY", CALIF. ROLLING HILLS, STUDDED WITH OAK TREES, THE OCCASIONAL LARGE MAMMAL, FOG IN THE MORNING, SUN IN THE AFTERNOON, A VERY NICE SETTING FOR A FEW HUNDRED YOUNG ADULTS WEARING BLACK ALBUM COVERS ON THEIR HEADS. DON'T GET ME WRONG, I'M VERY PROUD OF GLYNNIS, HER HARD WORK, AND HER STRENGTH OF DIRECTION VIS A VIS TEACHING, IT'S JUST THAT YOU'D HAVE TO SEARCH HARD TO FIND A LESS CEREMONIOUS GUY THAN THIS ONE. I'M TOLD BY THOSE WHO SHOULD KNOW THAT THESE MOMENTARY REST STOPS ALONG THE TREADMILL OF YOUR LIFE ARE REQUIRED, TIME FOR REFLECTION, CLOSURE (I'M STILL NOT SURE WHAT THAT MEANS) AND CELEBRATION, BEFORE ONCE AGAIN APPLYING YOUR PROBOSCIS TO THE STONE AND SHOWERING THE AREA AROUND YOU WITH SPARKS. I LOOKED UP THE DEFINITIONS OF POMP AND OF CIRCUMSTANCE, AND THEY WERE ACTUALLY OF LITTLE HELP. WHILE POMP IS EITHER A "DIGNIFIED OR MAGNIFICENT DISPLAY" OR A " VANE AND OSTENTATIOUS DISPLAY" WHICH SEEM AT ODDS WITH ONE ANOTHER, CIRCUMSTANCE HAD NONE OF ITS' 6 MEANINGS THAT SEEMED TO PERTAIN. UNLIKE WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS THE GRADUATION EVENT SEEMS TO PROVIDE REAL VALUE TO THE PARTICIPANTS, NOT JUST THE SPECTATORS, BUT AT SOME LEVEL IT WAS OBVIOUS THAT THE HALLOWED INSTITUTION WAS CELEBRATING ITSELF AS WELL. MAYBE THAT'S A GOOD THING, AS OUR CULTURE DOESN'T SEEM MUCH TO VALUE EDUCATION, EVEN THOUGH IT IS OUR ONLY ROAD TO SALVATION ( I BELIEVE THAT FIRMLY), SO EDUCATION MUST CELEBRATE ITSELF. THESE KIDS WERE REALLY HIGH ON THEMSELVES, MORE THAN 20 SOMETHINGS ARE EVEN BY NATURE, BUT MOST OF THEM HAVE WORKED VERY HARD TO WANDER THROUGH THE IVY CHOKED HALLWAYS, BOUNCING OFF ONE SUBJECT AFTER ANOTHER, LIKE MATRICULATING PINBALLS. I KNOW THAT GLYNNIS HAS WORKED DOGGEDLY, PARTICULARLY IN THE LAST COUPLE OF YEARS. AFTER NEARLY 60 YEARS OF WATCHING A FEW HELPLESS PhDS AND QUITE A FEW UNEDUCATED GENIUSES  HACK IT OUT ON THE FIELD OF LIFE, I'VE COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT ASIDE FROM REAL TECHNICAL EXPERTISE AND EXPERIENCE LIKE A BRAIN SURGEON OR PHYSICIST MIGHT GET, THAT THE DEGREE MOSTLY INDICATES TO PEOPLE THAT YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING TO FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED, AND I BY NO MEANS UNDERVALUE THAT IMPORTANT AND ALL TO RARE ATTRIBUTE IN OUR FELLOW PERSONS.  PARTICULARLY IN THE WORLD WE HAVE MADE FOR OURSELVES LATELY THE PRESERVED SHEEP HIDE DOESN'T GUARANTEE YOU MONETARY SUCCESS BUT IT DOES MEAN THAT YOU STUCK WITH IT, AND GOT 'ER DONE. FOR THIS, AND BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, CONGRATS G GIRL. I'M SORRY, BUT NOW IT'S TIME TO GET BACK ON THE BELT.
D

You Can Call Me Ray

Cabrilla, rock bass, brown spotty fish that looks like a large mouth bass with a paint job, you can call it what you want but it's one of the unsung heroes down here when it comes to fish. It's actually a leopard grouper. There are fish down here referred to as true cabrilla, or flag cabrilla, but they tend to be smaller, and don't look very much at all like th leopard grouper, akd cabrilla. The actual cabrilla are protected by law, and we don't see very many over a couple of pounds anyway. LG are voracious feeders, and while they are not speedster, and they don't have a heck of a lot of stamina, they are very aggressive, and with that big grouper tail they can move a lot of water and hit like an offensive lineman. Unsung among the gringos only, because one of the few things that match the voracious feeding habits of LG on the munch is the equal vigor with which the local will consume any and all LG taken. As with all of the groupers with which I am familiar these fish have snowy white flesh, and just enough fat content, oil, to not dry out when you cook them. Like BubbaGump shrimp, you can fry 'em, bake 'em, broil 'em, bar-b-que 'em, ceviche them, use them in soups, stews, fricassie, steam 'em, make a sandwich, or use that tandoori oven that you got for a wedding gift and have yet to use. As versatile as they are in the kitchen, there are just about as many ways to catch 'em. You can yo-yo, troll bait, drift bait, troll rapalas, or cast plugs. My two favorite ways to catch 'em are very different. In the spring (NOW) they come into the shallow water around the island and the stretch of water from Castillo to Muertos, over rocks. We cruised the small rocky points between Muertos and Punta Perico, throwing a sardine now and then to attract their attention, while standing by with spinner baits, yep, the same ones the Jimmy Houston uses. You're not liable to get any big ones, but a 3 pound LG on a 10-12 pound casting outfit will fill your hands ably, and cause you to forget those fresh water perch that Jimmy is always osculating with . Pitch the sardines in close to the rocks, be ready to cast, and when you see a sardine that is skipping along the surface, trying to escape being a guest for dinner, drop the spinner bait on top of him and reel fast. Lotsa fun. The other method that I like is trolling deep diving plugs along the east side of Cerralvo, particularly along the shore in the NE quadrant. Lots of BIG rocks, some the size of small sizes are 20-40 feet deep and as you wind your way back and forth between these rocks, be prepared. You must use at least 50lb. trolling gear, and I use 80. While this caliber of tackle seems like overkill on the common 3-6 pound fish, when you get the 20 pounder on the other end, they pull just as hard as a dog snapper, and that train don't stop before it gets to the rocks. I believe that the current world record for leopard grouper is in the upper 20's (26 something I think) and every year we take a couple larger than this, and one of the things that's on my Cerralvo bucket list is settin' a world record on these fantastic, but little heralded staples of the local fishery. Maybe tomorrow......
David

OH BOY!

We just booked another week at Mag Bay! Oh Boy, thanks ED. Those of you who are thinkin' on it, stop thinking, it's time.

An update on the fishing report. There's a little bit of a lot of different stuff going on right now, none of it very concentrated, all of it hopeful in the near run. As the water temps warm the yellow tail bite has dropped off, and it might be that the upcoming full moon is the last solid opportunity to take yellow tail this year. We've gotten some 10+lb. cabrilla this year so that might be worth some time trolling Rapala's up to the north end of Cerralvo. The pargo lisa are in, but not being hit hard as the nearest supply of sardines is half way up the island. The buoys are starting to show billfish and dorado but are maybe a little too far away for the amount of fish. The first marlin came from the south point today, so that means that that will start up. Commercial guys poked 3-4 wahoo last week in the same south point area so that is sitting on the edge as well. We're clearly in the time of year where we change from winter/spring fish to summer fish, but we're still kinda sittin' with one foot on the dock and one on the boat. This means if you don't make good/lucky choices about where to go you might get skunked, and even if you're in the right place you're not liable to score big, but you might get some nice variety. This will all snap into focus shortly, maybe as soon as the upcoming moon, but........ that's what makes it fishing my friends.
david

"I Love it When a Plan Comes Together" --H.Smith

 Remember back in February when I posted that picture of my clients doing a little amature surgery on a wounded thumb?  (The one to the right of this writing Richard!) Well if you search your memory banks you will also note that the group of amature surgeons and patients had made a decision to return and to do a combo trip of Mag Bay and Las Arenas, taking advantage of but a single airplane ticket to experience two different fishing adventures in one trip, kinda like an old Certs commercial.

 This entry, and the pictures associated with it will document the downstream events associated with that watershed decision on the part of Obe Wan Ueda.. After arriving at the La Paz Int'l. Airport,.they took the 3:45 Andy BulletBus to San Carlos and encamped at a small local hotel with whom we've done business for several years now and have a good relationship. For two days they explored the estuary areas near Devils' Bend, and the southern end of Margarita Bay on a couple of pangas. Days began by eating breakfast at nearby Pepes' restaurant. Into the pangas they'd climb, and after a short parade through San Carlos it was off to the beach for launching. They really enjoyed the "jungle boat ride" through the estuary area north of San Carlos, and did well on fishing. Spotted bass, corvina, 3 kinds of pargo, cabrilla, yellow tail, halibut, and even a couple of broom tail grouper in the 25 pound class were all taken, mostly trolling. After fishing they would hoist a few over dinners of local shellfish and fish. These guys ate so much that son Chris, who was up there on related business, swears that he had to use a hand truck to move one of them back to the hotel.. Add to that the clams, blue crab, and scallops that Bobo helped them to obtain in San Carlos, and they had a sea food buffet that would put any casino in Vegas to shame. They dropped off some of this bounty at the Chinese restaurant up the street, and were gracious in inviting Jane, Bobo, AnaLuz, and myself to dinner last night. That was the best meal we've had in months, and the company was perfect. We had a great time!
























 But Wait, There's Mo'!! Today, their second day of fishing at Las Arenas was another brilliant day. Yesterday was a little slow, but they were still coming down from their Mag Bay jag. Spring time is here and we've begun the changing of the guard in regards fish. Like the swap in a roller derby game almost all the players are on the track at once with the winter fish slowing some and the summer fish just starting to appear. Yellow tail are still here, and are still best on the full moon. Pargo Lisa and Cabrilla are doing very well, the buoys have started to kick out a few billfish, both stripers and sailfish, and the Boys (and Girl) From Mag Bay jackpotted on a school of dogsnapper with some nice fish in the boat, and more streaming plumes of leader material as they still ply the briny."What are they doing here now? "you might, and should ask. I haven't the foggiest, but the fish are in the freezer. Fishing this time of year can be either half emptu of half full. There are many kinds of fish around, and day to day different bites will be dominate. It's an opportunity to catch almost all that we have to offer, but if you head out the wrong direction in the morning, you might be lookin' at somebody elses' fish on the beach. Some risks, bug stakes. We're really please about our first Mag Bay expedition of the year working so well, and would invite you to contact us if you are interested in some more info. Until the next post,
Later,
David

Answers a plenty in the bye and bye

St. Stephan with a rose
In and out of the garden he goes.
Country garland in the wind and the rain,
Where ever he goes the people all complain.

St. Stephan will remain,
All he's lost he shall regain
Seashore washed by the suds and the foam
Been here so long he's got to callin' it home.
                                                                -RH

I've got this customer who never ceases to intrigue me. You know how they say that the longer you are around your dog, the more you and the dog become one. Well, they say that about marital partners too, and I think that it goes for professions to some extent as well. Some of us battle against our livelihoods on a daily, Hatfield and McCoy type basis, while others seem to fit like the legendary hand and glove. (I say legendary because I've never had gloves that fit that way, but that's a different topic, later.) Born to be that, chicken and egg, drawn to a calling, I'm not sure how to write it down, but there are those of us who seem to be in exactly the correct position to capitalize on our strengths, swerve around our weaknesses, and fit into the secret lock like a hand made key. Johnny Cochran, Sister Theresa, Arnold Schwarzenegger (boy I've dreamed of how to get all those guys into one sentence) and many others seem to have this sea anemone fit into their space. I've never felt that way personally, and wonder whether those that do actually recognize it in themselves. I digress. This guy is a trained psychologist kinda guy, and currently makes his retired living advocating for children and other mentally challenged folks, hoping that our state will use some of its' vast funds for something rather than trying  to do the the same old rich thing. He has lived a life of public service, whether working for the people directly or not. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for folks that try to help, in fact I struggle to be one myself, but the whole psychopsychcouncil thing has always seemed a bit of a scam to me, lifes' own original reality show where by "sharing" ourselves with others we somehow unburden all of the issues that we've spent years nurturing and growing. But this fellow is the real deal. He's a large, but not imposing presence, with the best FM disc jockey voice you've ever heard, deep and sonorous, commanding your attention but also welcoming and healing in nature. He reminds me physically of Tom Donahue, one of my personal touchstones, but his physical impression is only wrapping on the gift, the tupperware that contains the home made chicken soup. He is a joyous man, finding and enjoying the pleasurable aspects in every event, even those that the rest of us find dry of joy. He is able to savor all the dish, sucking the bones and mopping up the juice in the bottom, perhaps even storing some in his great beard for later.  If you talk to him for awhile you end up discussing things with him that you might not have ever discussed, or even consciously felt the need to discuss. As his womb temperature ambiance surrounds you with familiar comfort, things that had previously vexed you deeply come floating to the surface, objects now without angst or danger, to be explored, turned in your mental hand to examine all sides, and put away on a shelf, displayed upon but not intruding into your mind field. While this neurological legerdomain  may not absolutely resolve the issue at hand as it surely cannot, it does seem to put the pin back in the grenade, clearing away the muck and mire in which we seem to cloth our conundrums, making them appear larger, messier, and more toxic than they actually turn out to be upon his psycho-pressure wash.
I think that what differentiates him from the more stereotypical "and how did that make you feel?" type of nitrogen rich psychobabble bullshit is that in his case it isn't a technique, it's the real deal. He wants to know how it really made you feel, and you want to tell him. Like a good mechanic he takes the parts out in the proper order, lays them neatly on the work surface, cleans and lubricates them so that they are at their best, and then fits them back where and when they belong, tightening in the proper sequence and to the torque spec so that when done the ol' mill starts on the first kick, maybe not runnin' like new, but as well as it can be expected to run given the mileage, er, experience that it has. He doesn't weld or grind, nor fabricate new and better parts from polyunobtainium, just makes sure that things interact as they should, that timing sequences are in order, and that the mechanism feels cared about, a well understood but little discussed phenomenon among mechanics and fixers everywhere. A mental chiropractor perhaps, but after leading and following you up and down some pretty dark and gooey passages, things seem brighter and more possible. Damn fine fellow, and he doesn't do it for his own self aggrandizement, he does it to help you, 'cuz he wants to.
 Not the best fisherman in the world, but he neither recognizes nor presents himself as such. He just likes to go fishing. Some of my favorite pictures, and some that many of you have seen published, are of him holding up fish, big ones sometimes, sometimes not, but always with a great open mouthed smile. Smile doesn't really explain it. If a smile is like a laugh, then his face lights up in a great celebratory belly laugh, demonstrating that at that moment he is having the greatest moment in memory, at least until the next one comes along.  The demonstration of this ability and willingness to be of and in the moment is the example that I would love to emulate.

"It's a lesson to me,
The Ables and the Bakers and the C's
The ABC's we all must face,
And try to keep a little grace.

It's a lesson to me,
The deltas, and the east and the freeze,
The ABC's we all think of
And try to give a little love."
                                           --RH

Is that Carly Simon, or Do I Need to Ketchup?

Anticipation. Folks coming down here have a pretty good head of expectation vapor on board. Sure, we try to tell you how good the fishing can be, and also exactly how it is at any given moment. But some of you, you know who you are, are driven to read the Brand X reports, always glowing, "Hurry, only one boat left!". It's not just the reports, You've saved your hard earned frog skins, and want it to be well spent, which at least partly translates for most of us into a pile o' fish. I've written on this before, and probably will again, but it's fun to have new guys down here, and to talk to them about how much fun La Paz, and fishing with us, is. Sure, some of you came down here 87 years ago and could "Walk across the backs of the yellow tail", but I can't think of another destination that offers the convenience, quality fishing, and value that we do. My old, and deceased friend, Jack Hinkle was responsible for many great phrases
"I think that we're picking the fly shit outta the pepper here."
"She is as smart as you think she is, but not as smart as she thinks she is."
and others, but one of many things that I learned from him was "under promise, and over deliver", and we try, with a relatively high degree of success to do just that. Case in point are two sets of first timers down here this week. The fishing was about a C+ on the La Paz scale, but over 3 days they each caught yellow tail , sierra, cabrilla, and several varieties of pargo. Good enough, but when I started to make some excuses about the fishing often being better I found myself in the somewhat odd but not unpleasant position of having my customers defend me, to me. They had a great time, caught some of the largest fish they've ever had, and are planning their return trips. Shut up David!
I Love Ketchup,
D

dashboard

Gonna leave this brokedown palace,
On my hands and my knees, I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed, down by the water side,
In my time, in my time, I will roll, roll, roll.

In a bed, in a bed,
By the waterside I will lay my head
And listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.

 River gonna take me, sing me sweet and sleepy
 Sing me sweet and sleepy, all the way back home.
 It's a far gone lullaby, sung many years ago,
 Mama, mama, many worlds I've come, since I first left home.

Goin' home, goin' home,
By the waterside I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.

Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
To rock my soul.
                                            -RH

Got news today that one of my personal favorite long time customers, Mr. William McCann, is enduring the last of his days and will shortly pass on from cancer. I'm not usually drawn to words over the passing of 80+ year old people, it's not that it's not sad, it's just that were all gonna go, and if you've had 80+ years to stalk the planet you've had a fair share and I would normally bid him peace and goodbye. But I'm really gonna miss Billy. A couple three times a year he's been comin' down here since before I got here, sometimes alone, sometimes with a group of his friends and customers from The Redwood Room, his drinking establishment in the fine community of Maywood, or was it Mayfield, I could never get that straight. Bill would always show up way too early in the morning, and once I got used to that I would make sure that I was here early too. He'd have a couple of cups, and we'd talk about what life had pitched at us lately. While my business, clientelle, and location generally afford me some pretty good tales, Billys' stories always had a unique personal touch, and his technique in the telling made each one vivid and real for me. Whether it was the constant issues with his bevy of female employees, the trials and tribulations of the surrounding communities, the Breakfast Club (his early morning clients), or my favorite, the time his bar was surrounded by police, in cars and helicopters, and he and his clients and he were ordered by bull horn to come out, one at a time and with their hands on their heads, into the afternoon sun, to be welcomed by local television cameras, because someone had called in a tip to the police that a person of interest was in the bar, I always looked forward to Billys' stories and his telling of them. "Boy, I'm tellin'  ya' Davey...." each story would begin, and then take on it's own rhythm and meter. (The person of interest was not in the bar by the way.) Dealing with people at their highest and lowest, running a recycling center for memories bad and good, dreams realized or lost, he has developed a very healthy perspective over the years. What I will always remember was his youthful approach to most anything, he never seemed old, or grouchy, or narrow minded. It wasn't just his occupation that encouraged him to listen to what people, almost everyone, had to say, and to give it his honest consideration, it was his upbringing, his open mindedness, and his kindness I know that it sometimes got to be a load for him, and he would come down here alone, without his posse, and fish alone for 4 or 5 days, keeping to himself most of the time, except for very early in the morning. I believe that he was getting rid of the great bag of other peoples' problems, concerns, and annoyances that he collected from them as part of his job and his style. Bills' fairness has also always been impressive to me. While I find that many people of Bills' generation were implanted through upbringing and experience with prejudices against some things and some people, Bill always allowed people to earn their own reputation. If you were an asshole Bill was quick to recognize that, and if you weren't he was equally quick. He didn't care how old you were, what you looked like, what your background was, nothin'. He gave everybody a chance to be themselves, and to be thought of accordingly. I liked that about him. I STILL like that about him, and if I've messed up my tenses, past and present, it's because Bill is in both places right now. I hope that you get a chance to read this Billy, I know that you know we enjoy each other, but guys like you always have a hard time admitting how important they are to guys like me, and I want you to know that you are missed everyday, that you will be missed, always, and by many. I've left out a lot of really fine things about Bill, the loving tone in his voice whenever he talked of his wife, his boyish excitement at each new day of fishing, the way that nearly all of his customers treated him with respect, even the ones that didn't seem to have too much for themselves, and more, but that's for another time, or maybe for other people. For me, for now,

Love Ya' Babe,
David

"Counting stars by candle light, all are dim but one is bright.
 The spiral light of Venus, rising first and shining best.
 On, from the northwest corner, of a brand new crescent moon.
 While crickets and cicadas sing, a rare and different tune."
                                                                                       -R.H.

"Well Dave, here we are on a full moon, and you said that the yellowtail bite best on a full moon, and we're not doing very well on 'em", or something to that effect was mentioned by some clients late last week. Hang on there weed hopper, this isn't an equation in just one variable. They do feed best an hour either side of the high tide, and best on heavy currents, as in full moon, but hey there's a lot of acreage out there and you gots to look around. Water temps are right, full moon, go find 'em gd'it. Aha! Upon venturing northward, near the north end of Cerrallvo, voila! yellowtail. Not to say that every boat killed 'em, as all were looking in different places, but a couple came from the south point, and 1/2 dozen nice big fat ones for the guys that ventured northward. "My Captain is the best," cried the victors, and like calling a no hitter in the 6th inning, the next day they were cruelly, but fairly,  rewarded by the fish gods with low boat status, while their amigos, victims of their triumphant approbrium just the day before, were now the world champions for the new day, with 7 yellowtail, a couple of nice cabrilla, and a pargo lisa or two. Not that the former champs had gotten skunked, they had 2 yellowtail, but the light of victory of the prior day was diminished.to a mere afterglow.  Then the upstarts from the mountainous regions had their turn, two consecutive days of high boat. What were they doing differently? Their Captain had stopped along the way to jig up some monterey sardines, forsaking the smaller sardinia that had done so well the previous two days. These bigger baits were the ticket the last two days, capturing an even dozen nice yellowtail with cabrilla and pargo mulatto mixed in for variety.  Today is the rubber match, and after a couple days of dialing in the details I'll bet that the competition will be fierce, but friendly. They'll all be winners, at least in relation to the enjoyable, but somewhat less exciting task of recording their previous days events for posterity. The water is starting to warm, with random sightings of flying fish, and one dorado on the beach mid last week. It's about time for Chris and I to venture outside for our annual early season exploration. Stay tuned, stay awake, and Go Giants!
David

Technically Foulable

So, out we went again, this time with Andres. Most of you haven't had the pleasure yet, and as soon as you get down here we can correct that. He isn't a seasoned fisherman, but he did a very credible job. He did well reeling in his first yellowtail, listening to instructions from Chris, Fernando, and myself, and still getting the fish in. He had clearly absorbed much of the info passed to him, because by his second fish he was lookin' good. The only problem with the day was that his second was our second, and our last. While it wasn't the best part of the moon and all, it was still a less than stellar day with two fish in, and 3-4 fish who should have been  hooked, escaping. I thought that I would share with you some of our endless analysis of why this was, and what to do about it the next time. It's always hard to compare one day to another and to draw conclusions, because there are so many variables beyond our control, but let's do it anyway.

      Ostensibly we were doing the same thing on both days, ie. drifting live bait just above the bottom, using fluorocarbon leader and circle hooks. We actually got more bites the second day, but less fish in the boat. The things that were notably different were:
--We were using caballito, not mackerel, as the macs were hard to come by.
-- Fernando used the circle hooks through the fishes upper "lip", instead of the previously described bridling
    our day #1 Captain Lalo had used.
-- The hooks were a couple of sizes larger with Fernando than they had been with Lalo.

   In the instances where the fish took our baits they ran against the drag for 20-30 yards and then were gone. This would seem to imply that they hadn't gotten the baits all the way down into their mouths. The circle hooks' action depends on the bait having been swallowed and the fish swimming away from you. Either the yellowtail were holding the baits in their mouths, not swallowing them, or perhaps the hooks had become fouled, with the tip of the hook snagging back into the bait resulting in the hook being unable to lodge in the corner of the mouth of the prey as is almost always the result with circle hooks. Chris reminded me of a good tip when using circle hooks. The traditional instructions are to basically point the rod down the line towards the fish, when you feel that he has run far enough to have swallowed the bait to then put the reel in gear and raise the rod slowly, not to set violently. He prefers to start slowing the lines' departure with his thumbs prior to putting the reel into gear. This would give the bait a more gradual departure acceleration out of the yellows' mouth, as opposed to the more instant departure brought about by the putting of reel in gear. This is especially advisable when using spectra as the lack of stretch exascerbates this issue.  It is also possible that since the caballitos are larger than the mackerel that if the yellowtail were smaller they would have more difficulty engulfing the baits, but as all the 'tails that we caught or had seen caught were big fish, this is not likely. It could also be that with different current flows that fish were not feeding as aggressively as a few days before. Fernando also pointed out that the caballito have a bony horizontal plane on the section of the body just forward of the tail, and he said that sometimes fish have a harder time eating caballito because of this..
These are all of the likely possibilities we could come up with for the difference in hook up ratios from day to day. For us this is one of the best parts of fishing, analyzing the results of a days efforts, comparing it to past experiences and your understanding of the considerable mechanics involved in the process, and uploading what you believe to be the pertinent info for the next time. Out of this coleslaw of possibilities I believe that the next time that I go yellowtail fishing the things that I will make sure to incorporate are:

--Bridling the bait and using the smaller size hook as I believe that these steps will result in less fouling of the hook tip.
--Making sure to incorporate Chris' tip on "prebraking" prior to putting the reel in gear with circle hooks.
--Hoping for better luck. You can work on the Yin, but you gotta wait for the Yang.

david

Night time double-clutches into today

like a truck downshifting its' load

Way down

down along

Lazy River Road 

                 -RH

                     

Have a kid take you fishing! Chris and I decided that enough painting, CFEing, frettin', and getting up early to work had done happened, and that we should go fishing. The yellowtail have become quite consistent in the last few weeks, and even though I wouldn't necessarily recommend the dark of the moon to fish for these guys, it's when we had, and so we did. I really do enjoy getting up at 3:15 in the morning to make preparations for our customers, watching them wander in like victims of the rooster, and slowly wake up as the combination of coffee and what Kyle calls, "The David Jones Show" cuts through the fog, synapses stretch and reconnect and they begin to focus on the fact that they are going fishing. Most seem to shed 15 years, and the eyes begin to shine to a greater degree than for which you could blame  the coffee. I do enjoy this, damnit, but there is that moment when Andres closes the van doors, and as the animated speculation as to what the day will bring fades away up the street and I turn to go back inside to settle down to the mighty Wurlitzer that for just a flash I am jealous, and slightly irked at my clients as they get to go fishing. I don't brood about it, and within a few minutes all returns to normal, but I'd be lyin' if I said that there wasn't a twinge. Well today we got up early, again, with different purpose. A couple of client/friends were on their last day, and we were bound to join them on the water. They are the very comely father and son team pictured above with a fine catch of pargo lisa which they caught by going to the island for sardines and returning to Punta Perico for our first really good catch of mullet snapper for the year. Their names have not been mentioned on the slight chance that they number among the innocent, but we know who they are, and like it! Although I normally fall asleep in the van on the way home,but in the morning I'm as alert as D Rex. The drive, which I've done probably more times than anyone short of Andres (no pun intended?) is full of anticipation. Our hole carved into the early morning darkness by the headlights, ever vigilant for cow attack, talking with clients about this and that, checking out the tree appendages stretching into our tunnel of awareness for signs of wind, I love it. We arrive at the beach and hit the sand, the Captains scurrying about in the half light, shouting and laughing at each other, moving the pangas into ready position. Lalo was our chosen victim this day, and he was dressed as a Ninja warrior, with his head and most of his face covered with a dark cloth shroud, against the cool morning air. All I could see were his teeth, smiling when he figured out who his customers were, at least he'd have something to laugh at today. We barely had any more time to get any more excited before he throttled down, 5 minutes south of Muertos along the cliffs, and we dropped our Sabiki rigs down for bait. I made it look easy with three greenies right off the bat, but it slowed. During the day we caught sufficient bait to always have fresh lively ones, a combination of big green mackerel, some smaller ones, and Pacific Sardines. When we had enough to start, we joined the 8 or so pangas drifting live bait near the bottom, using 4 ounce sinkers, fluorocarbon leaders, and circle hooks bridled to the mackerel like you would bridle a big bonito for marlin fishing. I hadn't seen this done on smaller baits before, and Lalo mentioned that it was a little like "Senor Gallo". Memories of Bill Mathias, and his infectious attention to detail and rigging occupied my mind for a few moments, but then Chris was fast to his first of two yellowtail for the day. He was standing in the front of the panga, yankin' and crankin' on his Hada special, and within 7-8 minutes he had a 40 pound yellow next to the boat. Lalo and I looked at each other with looks that indicated that we each took some small responsibility for the training that Chris has absorbed so thoroughly over the years. "En la cabesa, por favor, y saca la sangre" Chris requested of Lalo. He wanted the gaff in the head, and for Lalo to bleed the fish, as he was planning on smoking it (which end do you suck on?) for his growing efforts at providing smoked fish around La Paz. Hole in head, blood in water, fish in the box. Most of an hour later I hooked up, and did my best not to embarrass Chris in front of fleet of pangas and cruisers that had grown to some 20 odd boats. I lurched to my feet, thank god for flat calm weather, and tried to let on as little as possible about how hard I was working to match his efficiency in fish retrieval. I thought that I did pretty well, and mere minutes later there was a 35 pound, bloodless, hole headed fish laying next to Chris' in the box. It was another hour and a half until Chris' second fish. Boats around us were hooking up, and it was clear that a large amount of large yellowtail were patrolling the area. Some boats had only one for the day, Javier had 9, that's fishing. But we ended up with 3, a couple of large jack crevalle, and a few bonito that Chris wanted to smoke also, they are good. A great day, weather perfect, Captain talented and affable, ice chest full, and I got to go fishing with someone who I have grudgingly realized is "probably" a better fisherman than I on several, but not all, yet,levels. I don't wish to seem snotty or to be a fishing elitist, but after watching a couple of hotdogs all dolled up in their fishing boutique bondage harnesses complete with fingerless "leverage" gloves, manipulating reels with gear boxes that would put most semi-trucks to shame, straining and hooting for 45 minutes to get these fish in, one even managing to involve everyones'line within half a mile in a knot no sailor ever knew, to watch someone who knows what he's doing was a real pleasure. It isn't the speed with which the fish is retrieved, it is understanding the fishes movements and utilizing his own efforts against him (fish Judo), and using the natural advantages of leverage and intelligence afforded us by our hardware and software. Efficiency of movement, application of pressure and direction at the perfect moments, like watching someone who really understands hitting a baseball, or who has spent countless hours making dancing look effortless and easy. Brief mental meanderings into "A River Runs Through It", some fatherly pride, just mostly the best taste leftover in your brain after a really fine day.

David