That's My Story

PEZ FUERTE THE AMBERJACK – published March 2006 – Western Outdoors Magazine Baja Backbeat Column

We had dropped jigs on a high spot in perhaps 80 feet of water. The early morning sphere if heat called “el sol” still wasn’t at it’s apex, but already we had shed the light windbreakers hours ago. Actually, looking over at my client, Phil, the last thing he needed was something to cover up unless it was to protect against sunburn. Beads of sweat tinged with melted sunscreen were already stinging his eyes behind his sunglasses. and the strain of the moment was evident from the darkening circles of moisture on his grey t-shirt and straining arms.

His eyes were pretty wide too and I suppressed a grin and giggle. I told him to bring a shorter beefier rod! Instead, being a Southern California “iron man” who loves throwing iron jigs and is proud of his ability to fire ‘em half a football field, Phil was paying the price. His 9-foot jig stick was triple bent and I could tell he was silently praying to the fish gods. I half-expected him to take a knee! OK…don’t listen to me. Have fun!

Actually, we were about ¼ mile of the beach fishing the panga just south of Los Frailes on the lower East Cape. Being a divemaster, I knew this high spot and what could be on it during the early spring months. Our first drop of yo-yo of the jigs were promising.

On the first drop and fast retrieve…WHAM! I didn’t get bit, but Phil was stopped, bent and… (exhale) …UNBOTTONED! He wasn’t expecting that and I laughingly reminded him that when that happens you MUST keep winding to set the hook. Many anglers make the mistake of stopping the grind and trying to set the hook by swinging on the stick. That’s what Phil had done.

Second drop. Settle. Hit bottom. Stop. Wind like hell. Three cranks and WHOAAAAAAA! This time, Phil kept winding until the fish was stuck. Maybe he wished he hadn’t. He high-sticked the fish and fortunately his pressure stopped that first run. I knew there were rocks down there and the first charge was blunted, but his long rod was now helping the fish beat him up on a prolonged fight that had already lasted 20 minutes.

“Yellowtail or grouper?” He asked? “It doesn’t really fight like one!”
“You’ll see,” I grinned back as I rummaged through his ice chest for a beer. (Might as well…not much I could do at this point except verbally coach him!)

When the big bronze fish hit the deck with a thud and two gaffs in it’s flanks, he gasped, “What the hell is THAT?” His forearms were still shaking and he collapsed on the seat.
“Amberjack. About 80 pounds, I’d say.” Was my reply.

Yellowtail gets most of the headlines in Baja but it surprises me that you rarely hear about amberjack. Until someone gets one or a run of these feisty members of the jack family (like yellowtail, pompano, jack crevalle) shows up. Maybe “feisty” is too soft a word. The Mexicans call them “Pez Fuerte.” (The strong fish) If you’ve ever fought the other members of the family or say…a 30 pound yellowtail…imagine a big cousin that can go over 100 pounds. That gives you some idea. The world record is 114 pounds, but I’ve seen larger fish that we just never got to a scale or got eaten before anyone realized.

Technically, seriola rivoliana, the amberjack is not only a great fighter but many folks consider it an even better eating fish than the popular and delicious yellowtail. I’ve had anglers describe it’s flavor as having a tinge of crab or shellfish in it, perhaps because of it’s own varied diet. The bad boy is found in tropical and subtropical waters, often around deep drop offs, high spots and ridges, but in my own experience, it seems that they are more prevailant in Southern Baja waters where waters are a few degrees warmer than say, Loreto and Mulege, famous for it’s yellowtail fisheries. Spring, especially, the late spring then again in the fall seem to be prime time for getting amberjack to go.

When they are running, they will school up. They will eat a bait or chase a jig all the way to the surface. Sometimes they will school up in masses.

I ran a panga for some of my freedivers once. They were in the water and came up empty. I was puzzled because I knew there were amberjack down there for the spearing. However, as one of the divers explained to me with a smile, “The amberjack are in huge schools down there only about 40 feet down. However, they are so thick and curious that they are virtually coming up to the point of the spear and looking right at it. Shooting a fish right between the eyes isn’t sport!”

That may be true for freediving spearfishermen, but I grabbed my handy rod and fired a jig and quickly hooked up. Far be it from me to pass up a quick dinner!

That’s my story…
Jonathan