That's My Story

NOTHING LIKE LOCAL KNOWLEDGE – PUBLISHED AUG. 2004 – WESTERN OUTDOORS MAGAZINE BAJA BACKBEAT COLUMN

A few years ago, I was running boats outta Los Frailes on the southern East Cape of Baja down below the hotel corridor of Bahia Palmas. It was another promising morning, as are many in Baja. Baja mornings are like that when you’re headed out to the fishing grounds. You know what I mean! No matter what the day was like before, today is a new day, amigo! Anything can happen!

Whether it’s the first day on the water after weeks of angst or just the anticipation from yesterday’s outing, there’s always that current of excitement coming down to the beach or landing in the morning. It’s controlled chaos! You can smell it and taste it and it’s in your very marrow…the Baja sun starting to break through…the morning chill getting edged out quickly by the heat you know is coming…a bit if diesel mixed with salt mixed with a bit of smoke from the cookfires on the beach and wafting from the hotels…the chatter among other fishermen…the horseplay…the guys who aren’t quite awake or shaking out the marguerita cobwebs…the vets dragging themselves out with swagger and purpose or simply taking their own sweet time…the rookies so jacked up either talking big or quietly looking nervous and absorbing every word and nuance of the vets…the low idle rumbling of the boats as they move in and off the beach or hold their positions in the line-up…the little cacaphonic snippets of Spanish and Spang-lish jumping back and forth…boat to boat…dock manager to captains…anglers to captains…

“Hola, Miguel? We gonna catch some big tuna today?”
“¡Claro que si, Señor Jackson! ¡Andalé! Today we find the big porpoise school for you! Watch your step!”
“That’s what I like to hear hear! Miguel! Gotta win back my money from Bob today!”
“Shut up, Jackson. What happened after that 4th tequila last night? What boat am I on today? Who am I fishing with? Where’s my gear? Oh my head…”
“Boat number 5…Boat number 5…where’s the Jones group for the Brisa del Mar? Your boat is ready! Jones group…Did anyone wake those guys up? Hijole…los cabroncitos! Hahahaha…
“¡Vamanos! Vamanos! The fish are waiting, Señores! “
“OK, Miguel! Hey, Greg, do you have the bait money? I bought yesterday, Butthead!
“I bought the beer last night! Man, I’m so fired up. Gonna catch me a bull dorado today yes indeedy! ” (belches while holding a beer and scratching self).
“Oh man…I was gonna change my line last night!”
“¡No te preoccupes, Senor! Are these your lunches?\ Vamanos! “
“Oh my head…”

You get the idea. You know what I’m talking about. And then there’s the gear! It was on one of these mornings that I’m reminded of how all the techno-gizmos we bring fishing are often no match for that little something called “local knowledge.”

I hadn’t been working this stretch of coach very long, but I had been out guiding almost all season on the pangas and mini-cruisers for the hotel I was working for at the time. However, on this particular day, a group of clients had paid me to accompany them on their own cruiser instead of using one of the regular boats and crews. I think we must have loaded half a tackle store onto the boat that day! Chingon…there were a lot of gold reels and bent butt rods on that boat! They even has some kind of custom designer hooks made in France or Italy or somesuch! As we loaded, a few kids were on the beach and one of them asked for a few hooks and leads. One of the guys dug into his 50 pound tackle bag and pulled out a few loose hooks and weights. We watched the smiling kids trudge down the beach with their fishing line wrapped around beer cans and soda bottles. Oh, if it could only be that simple again, I remember saying to myself!

Pulling away from the beach, I waved and smiled at a few of the hotel crews who now had a day off. They were going to take out one of the boats to catch some fish for the worker’s camp. As much as I like fishing with clients, I enjoy fishing with the amigos.” W ish we were all going out together. I knew they would be missing a day off work, but they had been going for several straight weeks and figured it would be good for ‘em to play for the day.

Well, as is sometimes the case, its was one of those Baja days when the ju-ju just isn’t with you. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. The hot sun and slow drone and vibration of the motor soon killed off the small-talk. It dropped the hungover guys into slumber and had the rest of the clients well on their way like slow-motion bobble head dolls rolling with each swell. We trolled mile after mile of seemingly deserted ocean! No matter what I did in the cockpit, none of the fancy electronics, state-of-the-art rods and reels or “flavor-of-the-month lures” could raise a sniff from even a needlefish! When you’re guiding and being paid for it…gawd…these are the WORST days as it feels like there’s an ever-growing bullseye on your back as if it’s YOUR fault the fish aren’t biting!

Suddenly racing up our stern came one of the hotel boats and I could tell it was my amigos from the docks! Life stirred on our own boat as they came abeam about 30 yards and smiling and waving held up a sailfish and several tuna. Since, they didn’t have a radio on their boat (not all that uncommon back then!), I couldn’t converse, but we all smiled and waved back. Good for them! They certainly got our attention and they slowed down and put out their own trolling rods to our starboard. Using hand motions, and a lot of yelling and laughing they wanted to challenge us for a case of beer! Well..now we’re talking! My clients got jacked up again! A little excitement and friendly competition! Shirts vs. Skins! Home team vs. Vistors! I looked around at our weaponry…we had it all! But we hadn’t done a thing all day! But I had to smile because I saw my amigos drop back some pretty interesting lures behind them and started to laugh. I told my clients that I thought we had just been hustled and that they should get the case of cerveza ready!

Well, over the next 3 hours, we didn’t get a strike. Nada! Not even trash fish! But the boys next door? Don’t ask…hammered one more sail…two dorado…and another tuna! My clients couldn’t believe it.

As we all got back to the beach later that afternoon, there was a lot of good-natured yakking as beers got exchanged and my friends willing shared a good portion of their fish with my clients. However, my amigos refused to tell my clients what they had used for bait or lures, despite much cajoling!

Later over dinner…“You said we got hustled?” said one of my clients .Laughing, I said, yes. I explained. I saw it when they first put their lures into the water. You see, without the benefit of the 100 dollar lures we had been dragging all day, I saw the “local team” using splashers and jigs made out’ve Orange Crush and 7-Up soda bottles! They drain half of it out, depending on how deep they want them to run. They also put crumpled aluminum foil; gum wrappers and other shiny trash into the bottles along with some shiny pop tops; a few pebbles for noise and rig it all up like a jig or splasher. I’ve even seen them paint eyes and stripes sometimes! The things jump, and bubble and kick up quite a commotion!

“You got home-towned, amigo!” I said with a grin.
“Well, how come we didn’t do the same thing?” said my client
“You were pretty adamant about only using all the fancy stuff you had brought down and besides, if I had rigged up something like that, you’d have all laughed me off the boat,” I explained.

“You’re right. Doggone, I learn stuff everyday! Fortunately, it only cost us a case of beer and tonite, I’m gonna scrounge up some soda bottles from the trash!” He said grinningly pulling on a puff of his Cubano and blowing a big old cloud into the warm Baja night. “Tomorrow is another day. Ask those guys if they wanna bet TWO cases tomorrow and we’ll have some fun!”

As I walked later that evening with the clients down the beach…me to my house and them to their rooms, we passed one of the beach fires on the sand. We noticed it was the same group of kids that has asked for some hooks and lead that morning. The kids were sucking their fingers and laughing obviously enjoying a great barbecue, but stopped when we approached. One stood up with a big grin as he recognized my clients.

“Gracias por los “hooks,” Señor,” he said. “¡Mire (look)…!”
He opened a battered dirty ice chest and we all squinted inside as our eyes adjusted to the firelight…full of lobster and pargo…Increible! (Incredible!)

“Dang.” I heard someone in the group say. (It wasn’t exactly the word used, but you get the idea.) “Maybe I”ll stay in the beach and fish with these kids tomorrow instead” said someone else in the group.

We all laughed as they took the path to up to their rooms and I walked smilingly down the beach to my own little place. Just another day in the Baja. . . and tomorrow would come again! Andalè pues…