Return to Mexico (Day Two)

Three days later and I was back aboard the same boat, same skipper. Again we were chasing sharks and this time we would stick to our guns.

It took a while but finally we managed  to hook into one, and a good one at that. I have landed several big species in various countries but never have I been hooked up to such a determined hard fighting fish as this one. If it didn't want to move I could not shift it.

Half an hour in and my arms burnt from the lactic acid in my muscles, my fingers cramped up so much that I couldn't straighten my hand, stinging blisters appeared on my fingers and the sweat flowed from my pores. I would be lying if I said that I didn't contemplate throwing in the towel but I grit my teeth, dug deep into the last of my reserves of strength and determination and finally after what seemed like forever I won. The tail was lassoed and the shark hauled aboard.

At 72 inches, approx. 120lb it wasn't the biggest ever landed but it was mine. I emptied a bottle of iced water over my head and posed in the searing heat with my prize- job done.

I informed the skipper that I didn't want another but could we fish for other stuff, jokingly I said Wahoo but within minutes I was hooked up to a Wahoo! 

Blue sharks are quick but nothing like the 'Usain Bolt' of the sea. This thing stripped line off at such a rate I thought the reel might run out but thankfully the ensuing fight was not as gruesome as the shark. I got a grip and was able to deal with it more easily. Another first and another species ticked off the list.

Half an hour bottom fishing resulted in two more new species, a Red Hind and a Porgy and on the way back we spotted a cruising barracuda which was obviously hungry.

Two awesome days fishing, seven new species landed, three off the bucket list and a personal best shark. Paraiso!!

Back in Mexico (Day One)

Cancun

At the end of September our business celebrated its first birthday. The hard graft is paying off and we definitely deserved a well earned break so the whole family jetted off to Mexico for twelve days. 

Frigate bird

Like last year I scoured the internet for suitable boats for a couple of days big game fishing. Always a shot in the dark but I dare not leave it until arrival in case they were fully booked. 

October is possibly the worst month for fishing in Mexico, all the bill fish species are notorious by their absence however there are still plenty of bait fish and tuna about and because of that the sharks stick about also. So shark fishing it was then, with a chance of a few other species besides.

To increase our chance of action we would fish several methods at once, feathers for the Bonita, Tuna and Mackerel (all great shark baits), teasers in case a Mahi Mahi turned up and whole fish baits for Barracuda and Wahoo. 

The shark baits are loaded on a down-rigger and trolled at depth but it was a surface bait that took off first and within minutes I landed a personal best barracuda.

Removed a tooth for my son!

Bonito and tuna followed but the sharks remained elusive. Several hours of inactivity forced us to ring the changes. We fashioned up some tuna steaks and bottom fished over rough ground for only a few minutes. In that short period of time I landed two stunning trigger fish and my very first Amberjack.

Great Dentistry

Back trolling we managed one shark bite which resulted in a bitten through leader and a 'merde' from the captain-didn't need a translator for that snippet of Spanish!

However we did catch one more fish, the highlight of the day for me, another first and a fish that has been on my bucket list for years but I have ignored in favour of bigger fish. Shame on me as there can be no fish more stunning.

Mexico Segunda Parte

Three days after my big game trip I had a much lighter session planned. Fly rods and spinning gear aboard a light skiff, targeting Bonefish, Tarpon, Barracuda and anything else that was around. My hope was that this would be sight fishing but the water around the mangroves was cloudy and visibility was pretty much zero.

I met the guide at a rickety old marina in an area best described as proper old Mexico. His mum Fatima had picked me up twenty minutes previous from our luxurious hotel lobby and we had travelled only a few miles down the road when the Tarmac had given way to dirt track. We passed numerous shanty huts and a rough looking bar (that probably sold the most amazing Tequila!) before turning into an area worryingly surrounded by broken boats and clapped out old engines presumably only kept for their spare parts. I jumped out of the van to be greeted by Rocky(named after Balboa!) a vicious looking but thankfully friendly dog.

 Fatima spoke excellent English but had not bothered teaching her son(my guide!) but we got by on our mutual Spanglish and the universal language of fishing.

I jumped aboard the rough looking skiff and we made our way across the bay towards the mangroves. My confidence was increased by the amount of seabirds that were working the area, Cormorants that are obviously a close relative of our own but are in fact a different species, the Olivaceous Cormorant

and the huge Frigatebirds or Man O'Wars as they are also called.

The Frigates are everywhere, they have the largest wing span to body size ration of any bird in the world and can spend up to a week on the wing not even landing on water. They are fish eaters, mostly flying fish but also participate in kleptoparasitism, harassing other birds to force them to regurgitate their food so they can eat the part-digested contents! Lovely!

 A sparkly shrimp pattern was attached to the leader but blimey it was tough going. Trying to cast a heavy fly into the stiff breeze coupled with my ring rustiness, I haven't fly fished for months, made presentation poor. The guide punted the boat along the mangrove edge but it wasn't until we came down the opposite bank with the wind at our backs that I was really able to work the fly as I would have liked. The Tarpon showed occasionally but they weren't feeding with any gusto in the searing Mexican heat.

Having worked the whole of the first bay we headed to the next. This involved another trek through the mangroves. The temperature outside the mangroves was approaching thirty degrees but inside the added humidity made it feel ten degrees hotter.

We sweated our way through a particularly narrow pass, my guide on the pole at the stern and me sat on the bow pulling and pushing at the protruding branches trying to steer our pass. Stupidly we had laid the fly rod down on the boat and the tip caught on a branch and snapped clean off two rings down. That was the end of the fly fishing then. At one point while we were wedged between two trees deep in the heart of the mangrove jungle I felt like Jeremy Wade exploring deep in an inhabitable savage land.

Just above in the trees the vultures patiently watched our lack of progress. The noises coming from unseen wildlife were like nothing I have heard before and every now and then there would be a large splash. At the sound of one particularly large splash I glanced at the guide, his one word reply was 'crocodile'. His lack of English didn't fail him that time! This felt like real adventure fishing!

Eventually we reached our destination a beautiful bay completely enclosed. I threw a shrimp like lure into every likely looking hole but only one Tarpon made a move at the lure. I saw the flash of its stunning mirror like scales but it missed its target and we ended our circuit fishless again. I was working extremely hard for very little reward.

Our passage back through the mangrove pass into the first bay seemed easier than before and we steamed off to a completely different area in search of better sport. Around twenty minutes later we reached the flats. The water was much clearer here although there was plenty of weed with random clear patches dotted around. This was Barracuda country with copious amounts of places for these aggressive predators to hide ready to ambush any unsuspecting victims who may wander too close. First cast and the rubber shrimp was nailed instantly.

It was only a baby but the speed of these creatures in the crystal clear water is a sight to behold. More Barracuda and the odd Snapper followed but nothing of any size so we headed out to deeper water in search of bigger Barras.

We saw them, they followed the lure but they hadn't grown big by being stupid like their naive smaller brethren. I changed to a popper with similar results, the odd follow but no takes. The icing on the cake of a quite frustrating day came from the sky when a huge frigatebird took the lure and flew off with it. Thankfully none of the trebles caught in its beak and with a slight tug it dropped its inedible prey. I wouldn't fancy unhooking seven feet of angry 'seagull'! The adventure was over and we made our way back to Rockys place.

El Pez Vela, Mexico

Booking anything on the internet is risky but booking a fishing trip over five thousand miles away and paying $800 is a massive blind leap of faith, mixed metaphors I know. However a family holiday to Mexico was a fishing opportunity not to be missed. So with a large slice of intrepidation I clicked the mouse and entered my bank details.

On the day of the trip I made my way to reception for a 5.50am meet with no idea if anyone would show. I twice checked the date and time on my emailed receipt and grabbed a coffee from the bar. Mexicans only have two types of coffee, strong or really strong but boy does it shake off jet lag! Right on time a minibus pulled up driven by a diminutive 'gringo' who introduced himself and asked if I was Yosef, close enough! Stage one complete.

As we drove through a rough looking area I quizzed him about what it was like. "I would be ok sir" he replied "but it not for you sir, not safe". I changed the subject to football, an easy common denominator. 

We arrived at the marina and I was ushered into a small office full of more dodgy looking gringos, I signed some forms in Spanish with no idea what was written on it and waited. Activity bustled on around me with ice, fishing line, food and beer going forwards and backwards. Lunch was thrust into my hand and I was ushered outside to the coffee pot. I helped myself, needless to say it was strong.

Finally I was introduced to my skipper, Pepe an American looking Mexican who spoke very little English. Thankfully his first mate Juan spoke excellent English inquiring about my previous boat fishing experience and once satisfied that I knew a bit we sped off out of the bay deep into the Gulf of Mexico. Our destination was a deep channel home to a multitude of baitfish which attract the ultimate predators, Blue and White Marlin and the stunning Sailfish. 

Five rods are deployed when trolling, teasers and muppets attached and a garfish-like bait is tied on with wire sewed through its eyeball, thankfully it is already dead! Two rods on down riggers, two on outriggers and one off the top deck.

We had only trolled the baits for about twenty minutes when we got the first hook up, I jumped in the chair and found myself attached to a powerful fish. The unseen adversary twisted and turned, made powerful runs but slowly and surely I kept pumping the rod and gaining the line back. We got a brief glimpse of a huge sail but the fish saw the boat and made one last dash for freedom. Thankfully the hook held firm, I ignored the pain from my aching muscles and brought the fish back up from the deep blue depths and Juan grabbed the stunning beast and hauled it on board. 

For the small price of $1400 the local taxidermists will stuff and mount the fish and ship it anywhere in the world and whilst I thought it would make a great centre piece for our kitchen wall I am not sure the wife would agree! Besides there is no way I could be responsible for killing such a stunning creature. 

The rods were quickly redeployed but I was in no hurry for further action and thankfully the next bite was not too quick in coming along. I was also grateful that when it did come it was a small bluefin tuna of about five pounds, unhooked and chucked in the box to be used later as bait.

By now my limbs had recovered and I was ready for more action. A screaming run followed but this fish did not stay attached for long, the frayed hook link indicated that the escapee was a wahoo. Its razor sharp teeth had made light work of the 80lb line. Wire trace is not used when billfishing the theory being that the fish feel the steel and let go whereas mono is less perceptible.

 More tuna followed all about the same size plus a bonus bonito of over ten pounds, more bait for later I was told. Couldn't wait to see how those were going to be deployed!

Two species ticked off the bucket list and I felt confident that more would follow but the next few hours were very quiet. We trolled and trolled further out towards the Atlantic but nothing happened. "The fish are sleeping" Juan informed me. By now it was 34 degrees so I joined the skipper on the top deck where it was a bit more comfortable in the breeze. A chilled beer or three helped too.

There was to be one more final flurry of activity though. The skipper cut the engine on an obviously known hotspot and three slices of Tuna were despatched to the ocean floor.Within minutes I had a clonking bite and thoroughly enjoyed a stand up battle with a large Grouper.

 Another species ticked off the list and a proper bonus that I did not expect. Several Red Snapper followed to put the finishing touches on a cracking day. 

What did we do before the Internet?!

Canadian Adventure

As my 40th birthday approached Mrs C asked me, "Would you prefer a party or a fishing holiday?" Silly question really. I have an Auntie and Uncle who have lived in Vancouver for as long as I can remember so arrangements were made for my Dad and I to pay them a visit for a week.

British Columbia can only be described as stunning. Even in downtown Vancouver the architecture is spectacular, high rise buildings reflect both their surroundings and the sky in spectacular fashion. 

Our city planners should learn a thing or two from across the pond and follow suit!

Everywhere else you look there is amazing scenery. Snow topped mountains and greenery abound. Tuesday morning saw Uncle John, my Dad and myself make a short journey North to a place called Harrison Hot Springs. The idea was to stay with friends Alice and Ken and be closer to the fishing. Below is the view from their front door, imagine seeing that every time you went out of the house!

Wednesday morning saw us driving through Chilliwack on our way to the Fraser river to meet up with Steve Kaye aka the Sturgeon Hunter. 

The Fraser river is by far the biggest river I have ever fished at over 850 miles long. In its lower reaches it is huge and powerful and where the snags back home are sticks and twigs, in this watercourse we had to keep our eyes peeled for whole trees floating down and there were plenty of them!!
The tackle was simple. a 9/0 hook attached to 150lb braid and a simple running rig with a 12-14oz lead.
not exactly delicate but effective. Bait used was a either a small Squawfish officially known as a Northern Pikeminnow (which can grow to over 10lb) or an Eulachon (pronounced hooligan). By the time they were attached to the hook you couldn't really tell them apart.

The first bite was instant and before I had chance to draw breath I was playing my first ever Fraser river White Sturgeon.
These fish have remained unchanged for more than 65 million years, prehistoric monsters than can live for over 150 years and can grow to over six metres long.
The specimen I was attached to wasn't quite in that league but still fought very powerfully in the strong flow making my arms ache. After 15 minutes the fish was beaten and my first ever Sturgeon was boated and lay in the sling. 65 pounds of scaleless muscle with protective bony plates called scutes and a solid bony plated head. You could never accuse them of being pretty but they are certainly stunning creatures.

It is obvious why they are bottom feeders using their barbels and long protruding mouths to find and pick up crustaceans, shells and small fishes when they young. When they reach maturity they can manage whole Salmon.
My old man was up next and the nervous energy racing around him was plain to see. He sat through over an hour of waiting before the second bite arrived. Our guide Steve knew it was a big fish straight away and he was not wrong.

For a good twenty minutes or more the banter flowed about him messing about with it and the rhythm method etc while the monster attached dictated the terms of the fight.
Eventually it surfaced and it was obvious this fish was too big to be hauled aboard. There is a rule that anything over six foot has to be brought to the margins so we towed this one to the nearest 'beach'





6' 2" long (same as Dad!) weighing 150lb (bit less than Dad!!) of leviathan, one chuffed old man and a very jealous son!

Far and away the biggest fish that Dad had seen let alone caught.
Next up was a change of swim and Uncle John's turn. By now we had attracted a spectator. A bald Eagle sat in a tree right by the run, looking unimpressed by our efforts.

These huge Raptors are prolific around British Columbia building huge nests that can weigh almost a ton! We saw so many over our stay that the novelty wore off-nearly.

Eagle in nest

Uncle John was actually relieved when his turn came and the fish was not as big as Dad's! He enjoyed a spirited battle with a 45lb fish and the smile says it all.

The old boys kicked back and relaxed after that letting me have the remaining hours rod-time. We moved spots a couple of times before I landed two bigger specimen both around the 100lb mark, 60 and
59 inches long respectively.

Our skipper thought the above specimen was a sea faring fish due to its pale colouration. Probably upriver for its first attempt to spawn.

That was the last of the action but we didn't care, an action packed day with lots of laughs. There was relief as well when we heard the other boat that went out that day had blanked. It would have been a long way to go to catch nothing!
The remainder of the week was filled with more wildlife, beer and laughter.
Hummingbirds:

Wild Chipmunks:

and of course Canadian Geese:

A big thank you to Uncle John and Aunty Geraldine for looking after us so well and thanks to Dad for the company and the plane ticket!