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Date: January 17, 2018 Body of Water: Golfito Dulce and Pacific Ocean, Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica Boat: Reel Hard With: Russo from @tropicfins, Tropic Fins Adventures, http://tropicfins.com Target: Roosterfish, Yellowfin Tuna and whatever else we came across Time: 7 AM to 4 PM Conditions: Tropical; sunny and hot; water temps around 84-85 degrees F; a big swell coming in from the Pacific, with very confused seas during the morning's outgoing tide Bait already secured, Russo and I sped down the Gulf towards the open water near Matapalo Rock. Conditions were already clear and hot; the inner Gulf was calm, but the Pacific Swell made its presence known as we neared the mouth. With an outgoing tide and a much smaller boat (this 21-foot bay boat had virtually no freeboard on the casting decks), the confused seas presented difficult fishing conditions. Casting was not possible, so we started with a slow-trolling spread of free-lined and weighted sardines. After just a few minutes and a couple of tangles, Russo decided to troll a pair of Yozuri swimming plugs. At higher speed, we'd have more control over the positioning of the baits. It took only a few minutes for a rod to double over, and I landed a small bonito tuna. We retained this for possible use as bait, later in the day. Knowing my desire for mahi-mahi, Russo replaced one plug with a skipping squid lure. This was fun to watch, and a strike would have been amazing, but nothing happened for the next half hour. Perhaps my concentration on the baits was a little too intense, though, because at about 9 AM, I realized that I was going to be sea-sick. ![]() Fortunately, I got that over with quickly, and Russo kindly switched over to bottom fishing with live sardines. We were in depths of about 100 feet, but concentrated on ridges and humps associated with the main point of Matapalo. This bite was pretty slow (we were plagued by nipping bites from triggerfish or small snappers), but I did miss a good chance on a heavy, hooked fish. I never saw the fish, and it could have been just about anything; it simple pulled the hook several minutes into the fight, and represented a simple, lost chance. Oh well, I knew there would be others! We spent the late morning slow-trolling baits along the same stretch of tropical beach as the previous trip. The swell wasn't quite as bad, but it was still too rough to cast from the bow. We executed well on rooster fish; I caught three beautiful, hard-pulling specimens. They really resisted coming close to the boat, and they also provided some nice acrobatics and surface strikes. Once again, I had to respect M and her fish from the previous trip; she'd bested a fish at least 4-to-6 times the mass as these on the same tackle. As the bite slowed and it became obvious that other boats in the fleet were struggling, we tried a few drops at specific spots in intermediate depths (35 - 50 feet). I converted my single "real" bite into a new-to-me species, a beautiful yellowtail (Pacific-style) snapper. After lunch, we returned to the vicinity of Matapalo Rock. With the tide turned, it was quite a bit more fishable. I was able to cast from the bow, although nothing rose to the popper this day. Meanwhile, we slow-trolled flat-lined and weighted sardines from the stern. This bite was strangely slow to non-existent. Perhaps the tides associated with the day's New Moon were messing with the fish? Russo made a bucket of chum from our dead and injured sardines and the morning's bonito. Positioned at the end of Matapalo point in about 75 feet of water, he dumped this into the sea. For the first time all day (and almost instantly), the ocean lit up with activity. Surgeonfish, blue and yellow rainbow runners, jacks and a large, reddish brown grouper or snapper raced into the chum-line. While Russo free-lined sardines, I concentrated on presenting live sardines on the bottom. I immediately caught a small rock snapper, but the next drop produced a solid bite from the bottom. After a very nice, dogged fight, an electrified Blue Trevally came aboard. This was another new-to-me-species. What a beautiful fish! We endured a variety of cut-offs thereafter. The Spanish Mackerel had arrived. The catching was over. I enjoyed my Cerveza Imperial on the surprisingly smooth ride back to Puerto Jimenez. What do I have to say about this? We had tried to do an awful lot with a small boat in big seas, and we had largely succeeded. I'd really left only one good fish on the table during a rather difficult day of fishing. I'd certainly caught some beautiful fish; I'd enjoyed the day's effort. Russo had worked tirelessly (again) on my behalf. I was somewhat flummoxed by the sudden disappearance of yellowfins and mahi, but this served as a reminder that "Fishing is Fishing", and one never knows. Having to work for any success only makes it that much sweeter. With two days of fishing left (both aboard the larger HepCat), Russo and I had decided that we would target offshore fishing for sailfish, mahi and/or tuna the next day, but only if the fleet's report was a bit more positive for that style of fishing. Regardless, I knew I'd be in the warm waters of the Pacific with my daughter, K, the next day; and I suspected that something knew and interesting might happen. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Our day started at 7 AM by making bait (sardines and moonfish; but the "sardines" were really green-backed herring, I believe) with simple gold-hooked "sabiki" rigs. This was a bit tougher than expected, but when supplemented with a couple of net tosses over a school of small ballyhoo, we left port with two big live wells loaded with bait. Our first fishing stop was a beach next to a reef, south of our lodging at Agua Dulce Hotel on the west side of the Gulf. We were possibly just killing time, waiting for a tide change; I worked for a half-hour or so casting a small swim bait off the bow while we slow-trolled flat-lined baits. I was super relieved when I set the hook into the first (non-bait) fish of the trip, a 16-inch (or so) Spanish Mackerel. We then proceeded to our second stop of the day, an isolated hard-bottomed hump rising from 25 feet or so of water. The graph was lit up, and I switched from the light gear to a heavier outfit equipped with a Yozuri Hydro popper. On possibly my first cast with this rig, I enjoyed a visual chase, speedy tease and an excellent, crashing surface strike from a sizable Spanish. I hooked up, the drag peeled, and soon the first real fish of the trip was swung aboard. I was hooked, too; I chose to spend a good chunk of the day casting this rig from the bow. The good fishing on this hump continued for a bit. Just about every sardine deployed got hit. Many were halved by toothy critters, and we lost a fair number of hooks, too. But sometimes we would come tight, and another Spanish would come aboard. Meanwhile, I was entertained at the bow with a series of strikes and slashes on the popper. At about 10 AM, M grabbed the sardine rod after an explosive surface strike, and she was soon tight to a fish of a different order; this fish was strong! It melted a lot of line off the reel, but then both M and the fish settled into a long and protracted fight. At first color, it was apparent that it was a roosterfish, and a large one at that! After a 20 or 25-minute fight, the rooster finally relented and came to hand. M, emotional and exhausted, held her catch for a few moments. With the fish released, M chose to spend the rest of the day relaxing; she didn't touch a rod for the rest of the trip. ![]() At about this point, we moved out of the Golfito Dulce to fish near the Matapalo Rock at its mouth. We were only a few hundred yards offshore, in about 90 feet of water, but offshore pelagics (mahi and tuna) had been readily available here for the preceding week. We presented a variety of live baits off the back of the boat (free-lined and weighted sardines off the stern and off the outriggers, too) while I continued to cast the popper off the bow. Conditions were unusually quiet, and Captain Cory mentioned how crowded it was (six other boats in the vicinity), but I continued to plug away. Finally, my popper was chased and absolutely demolished by a fast fish. But this fish didn't really fight; at least, not until it was 40 feet from the boat or so and decided to take flight. It ran under the boat, peeling serious drag, and my line got cut off by the motors. I'd finally hooked a tuna (on a popper!), but I'd lost it! I picked up the next available rod, a St. Croix walleye rod with a size 3000 Shimano Stradic equipped with a Yozuri Walking Pencil. A few casts later, a second yellowfin ate explosively, and the fight was on! This was light tackle fishing at its finest (IMHO), and I was super pleased when this fish came to the gaff! Shortly thereafter I caught a twin tuna. This one provided a tremendous, air-born strike right beside the boat. Strangely enough, the live baits were silent during this time. With a few hours of fishing time left, we ran north and west up the coast. The Pacific swell was creating quite a surf, but we maintained our position outside the breakers while I casted the popper from the front. Live baits were presented off the back and via the kite on the shoreward side. These baits were literally positioned at the edge of the break and froth; I couldn't see them any longer, but the Captain could. I believe him, too, because I think every bait that was deployed eventually got eaten; sometimes three or four at a time. We landed a half dozen roosters to about 10 pounds (these fish really made me respect M, for having defeated the morning's big rooster) and a couple of jacks. We missed several opportunities, too, including a very brief hookup on the popper. We all enjoyed a smooth run back into the Gulf. I then enjoyed casting the popper to end the day at Iguana Reef (right near our hotel) while our hosts cleaned up the boat. I only came up with a couple of swings and misses, though; no giant roosters came out to play. A truly lit-up needlefish, in iridescent blue glory, also chased my popper, providing yet another visual memory to mark a pretty incredible day. ![]() We were back to the dock, generally exhausted, by 4 PM. I enjoyed my portion of yellowfin tuna, grilled simply. We were all asleep by 8 PM. What do I have to say about this? What a day! We will all remember it for a long time! I can appreciate the effort that goes into hosting a full-day, family effort; and Tropic Fins worked the entire time to keep us on fish, comfortable, fed and hydrated, and happy. Their tackle was a joy to use, too, and I especially appreciated being able to match the tackle to the expected quarry at a given time. I may have waited too long to make something like this happen; but I knew I still had three more full days to experience what the Golfito Dulce could offer! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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