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Date: January 18, 2018 Body of Water: Pacific Ocean, Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica Boat: HepCat With: K; Cory and Russo from @tropicfins, Tropic Fins Adventures, http://tropicfins.com Target: Sailfish, Mahi, Yellowfin Tuna and whatever else we might come across Time: 7 AM to 4:30 PM Conditions: Tropical; overcast with sporadic rain showers; water temps around 84-85 degrees F; calmer, but still approximate 5-foot, short and choppy seas We were greeted at the dock by HepCat, loaded with an assortment of trolling gear. I knew we were headed offshore! With good sailfish reports from the previous day, we cleared the mouth of the Gulf and almost immediately set a trolling spread; we were starting our search for sails, mahi or tuna in just 110 feet of water. Cory and Russo set the spread with incredible efficiency, and soon we were trolling at 6 knots or so. Our 6-rod, balanced spread included skipping or swimming ballyhoo off the outriggers; a squid or chugging lure off each corner; a skirted ballyhoo and a large, marlin-sized chugger flat-lined well behind the boat; and chugging teasers off the halfway point of each outrigger. A ballyhoo was rigged and ready on a circle hook to drop back to any visitors within the spread. We were fishing by 7:45 AM. ![]() Conditions weren't really conducive to finding any fish; there was no observable color change, weed line or bird activity to target. We spent the first 45 minutes of our fishing day covering water, circling out to 125 feet of water, but with no action. At about 8:30 AM, Captain Cory got the call that another boat had found large tuna offshore. Within minutes, the spread was in and we were pointed offshore. Soon thereafter, a group of birds pointed the way, and were soon engaged in a high speed hunt as Captain Cory tried to position the boat comfortably ahead of a large herd of dolphins chasing bait. As we got closer, I could see tuna porpoising themselves and smashing bait on the surface. I moved to the bow to throw the Yuzuri Hydro popper, while K awaited a strike on the live-lined sardines off the stern. It didn't take long at all for a 20-pound or so yellowfin tuna to eat a sardine. It was tail-wrapped and didn't provide much of a fight for K on the 30-class tackle, but it was still the largest tuna we'd ever encountered and a punctuation mark on one of the coolest, wildest encounters I'd ever seen. We didn't even pause for pictures, though, as the herd was quickly on the move, and we were either working with or competing with a couple of other boats for another shot at more and/or larger tuna. We positioned ourselves a few more times. My popper went unnoticed, and our baits untouched, even though chumming with injured sardines produced many tuna explosions within casting distance of the boat. Birds sitting on the water were my most reliable casting target, and I did have one chase and explosive rejection, but still the popper remained untouched. On perhaps our fifth stop of this chase, a sardine rod went off while I was casting from the bow. As we'd discussed, K went to get strapped in to the harness to fight the fish. I planned to continue with the popper, but did't have a chance to, as the second sardine rod went off before I could make the next cast. K and I spent the next half hour or more with our tuna double header. I'll be honest, this was an excellent experience, but I'm not sure it was fun. Fish of this size on the heavy tackle with appropriate drag settings represented a lot of work! Both of our tuna ran to the bottom (about 145 feet) and wanted to stay there. I was able to make line up only inches at a time, but I was able to get the fish within color range (30 feet?) fairly quickly. However, my fish got super stubborn at that level. Meanwhile, K's fish remained near bottom for just about the entire duration of the fight. Mine finally relented and came to the gaff. Captain Cory then tethered it to a parachute chord stringer, but kept it hooked and told me to stand by. He had to help Russo with K's fish, which now seemed determined to find HepCat's motors. In the heaving seas, the tether on my fish broke, and soon I was fighting it again! But shortly thereafter, both fish hit the deck, to everyone's relief. What an experience, especially to have shared it with K! This was as close to being within a Nature documentary as I'd ever been; I'd experienced something that I knew happened every day, but that I couldn't even ask to be part of. I am truly thankful for having experienced this wildness. Captain Cory radioed his thanks to the boat that had alerted us to this offshore action. Then he asked us; did we want to try to do it again? K and I agreed, that while this was a fantastic experience, our bodies were at least temporarily shot; we thought that returning to trolling for sails and/or mahi might be our best bet for the rest of an enjoyable day. And troll we did. We spent most of the rest of the day in about 125 feet of water with the spread working the water. We were close to another boat as they fought and landed a sail; and we had two brief visitors within our spread. I didn't see either, but both briefly touched our far-back (about 100 feet?) marlin chugger and pulled a bit of drag. Cory thought the first encounter was a marlin, while Russo announced the second to be a mahi. We were in the game; we were close; and both K and I were content with the excellent day. Our time was really winding down when, at about 2:30 PM, the same long flat-line with the dolphin-green marlin chugger started screaming. I grabbed the rod and quickly overpowered a beautiful bull dolphin. At first it was electric blue; but it morphed into a bright yellow phase as it sped away from the boat and jumped. At perhaps 20 pounds and about 40 inches fork length, it was easily my biggest mahi ever. I figured our fishing day was over at this point. I was pleased with the day, even though sails had never shown themselves to us. But now we had a mahi to clean and a bunch of extra sardines, so we motored inshore to Matapalo. Here, in about the same water where I'd caught the Blue Trevally the day before, we live chummed and flat-lined sardines for whatever might show up; I think the goal was to get K another fish. While she was bothered with mostly toothy critters and a series of swings, misses and cutoffs, I enjoyed catching several hard-pulling jacks to about 10 pounds. The last two were aptly-named Horse-eye Jacks; I enjoyed making their acquaintance, as they were speedy and strong. We were pretty happy, but spent, by the time we returned to the dock at 4:30 PM. In all honesty, I believe K and I were asleep by 7:30 PM. What do I have to say about this? What an experience; and I was pleased to notice the calm and serenity that encompassed me when our tuna hit the deck. I knew this trip was made; I did't need anything else to happen. But I also knew that there was still plenty of time for new, beautiful and exciting things to occur. I also knew that we'd made all the right choices; this vacation was the right thing to do with our time and money, and Tropic Fins was the right outfitter to be hosting us. I'm not often that content. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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