MARLIN FISHING ON MEXICO'S SEA OF CORTEZ

June 8, 2005, Patricia A. Rose, East Cape, Mexico Marlin Fishing:

It has been very slow fishing in the Sea of Cortez this spring. Even in late May, when the water temperatures are usually 80-85 degrees in the East Cape, the water averaged 74 degrees, or colder than our heated swimming pool in San Diego. Dorado and yellowfin tuna are migratory. They go where the food is, and the food they like propagate better in warmer water.

My husband, Nathaniel G. Rose, M.D., first drove down to Baja in 1972. It was 1982 before we finally married and he took me. I fell in love.

On April 18 this year, Nat wasn't fishing when I caught my first marlin, on the El Loco II out of East Cape's Hotel Palmas de Cortez, with Capt. Julio Cota.

Nat usually calls the shots and we always avoid marlin, just because we fish for eating fish and a lot of them. A marlin is a big fish, and if accidentally hooked in a way it cannot be released, it is a waste of a life if we can't eat all of it. But Nat wasn't fishing that day and we weren't catching anything. Our friend Paul Richter and I were out and spotted marlin. I looked at him and he looked at me, and I said, "You know I've never caught a marlin before." Well, maybe it's time" he said.

We were trolling with lures that most anything will hit, about 20 miles southeast of Los Barriles, and WHAM, there was a marlin. I grabbed the pole and reeled. This was a tough one. I had my tried and true Penn Tiberon reel, one speed, and 40-pound test. The thing jumped in the air and shook its whole body trying to get that lure with the hooks out of its mouth. I told the captain I wanted to release it and kept playing it, holding on for dear life while the fish would take off another hundred yards of line off my reel. I have to admit that when my left arm started literally shaking from holding the pole with line taut each time the fish ran, the deckhand did lend a grateful arm to help hold on. I brought in about twenty minutes later, meanwhile instructing Paul on how to use my digital camera. "Does it have film in it?" he asked. "Just open the front, look through that square window and hit the button!" I told him.

"Good job," "Paul said. He smiled. Paul originally taught me how to fish many years ago. He told me that if Nat was going to want to fish, it would be a lot more fun for me to learn how, too. So, he likes to watch the product of his labors.

We tried to call Nat on my cell phone, which somehow never seems to work in Baja, to no avail.

On our May 28th trip, I had gone scuba diving the day prior, when Paul and Nat reeled in 12 yellowfin tuna. It wasn't even good diving visibility. I'd rather have been fishing!

This day was the last on our trip, and, we fished on the J&B, out of Hotel Palmas de Cortez, with Capt. Alberto Cota and deckhand Daniel Algundes. Again, we headed north to Isla Cerralvo to get bait and then trolled for wahoo for about two hours. We had one hit. Don't ask me. Nobody was paying attention, I guess. I heard a sound, "Hey!" and bap, there was no line left on the reel. It just snapped off. This was 30-pound test on a two speed Accurate, which didn't matter; the thing hit our brand new $20 CD-18 blue Rapala and took off 400 yards of line. All gone.

Then we went out for tuna, too rough. We headed in, trolling for anything, determined to catch SOMETHING.

There seem to be always marlin out there, even when there isn't much else, but that is probably because we aren't looking for them. The captain asked, "Marlin?"

Nat asked the deckhand that if we caught a marlin, would he be interested in some of the meat." He grinned broadly and said his family would love some to eat. They hadn't had any in a long time. The captain said the same.

We waited as we trolled. The guys dug into the cold chicken and fruit and cookies. I just watched and an amazing thing happened. My cell phone rang! What? Geez! It is Evelyn at our office calling to tell me about the doctor's schedule at 12:30 p.m. Baja time in the Sea of Cortez! I got most of what she was saying and then, "THAT'S A FISH!!" I dropped the phone on the seat and ran. The marlin got off the first hit, but when you have five lines out, often they will be attracted to another lure.

We threw bait in the water and BAM, Nat was hooked up. His marlin danced on its tail, took more line out, Nat reeled, the marlin jumped and danced again. He had it almost at the boat. There were more marlin out there. BAM, I grabbed the rod. A DOUBLE HOOKUP! Nat had his up to the boat by then. He was going to catch his. Mine would be released. I reeled. All of a sudden the line went totally slack. Did I loose it? I kept reeling as fast as I could. The only time the line goes slack is when the fish isn't hooked well and the hook gets out, when the fish is charging towards the boat, or if the captain backs into the fish to give an added advantage in catching it and keeping line on the reel. The other advantage a good captain can give is to turn the boat so that the line is always going out the back or to one side or another so the angler is in a good position to reel. This is fine when there is only one big fish on. With a double hookup, the fish may well be going in different directions, and one could be lost while working the other.

My line went taut with the feeling of a heavy living thing moving in the waters beneath, connected by a thread on my reel. The marlin was still there. Meanwhile, Nat's had taken 350 yards off his spool. Mine took off again, jumping and shaking its whole body to be rid of this object in its mouth. The captain gently backed the boat toward it as Nat continued to hold on to his. We got mine in. Paul tried to take pictures, but he'd forgotten his lessons from the month before. Mine was released.

In that short time, Nat's marlin took another 250 yards loosing the aerobic advantage that had just been gained. "Muy fuerte hombre," said the deckhand in awe. Very strong man. Not bad for a guy with two shoulder replacements on his right side. He brought his in.

"That was a lot easier than your first one, wasn't it," said Paul. I nodded. "That's because you were catching it like a fish, not like a marlin."

Nat's marlin yielded 17 fillets, about five pounds each. We gave five to each of the crew, one to the harbor master, one to the chef, and could have easily given away more. Most people are releasing their marlin now. It's a lot of diesel to take a boat out far enough to catch a marlin at your own expense. We had one chunk prepared as ceviche and marlin steaks made with olive oil, garlic, salt, pepper and cilantro and barbecued. Delicious. Anyone who says you can't eat marlin never tasted ours! We brought four fillets home and cooked one the first night. This is good stuff. It doesn't taste like fish, it doesn't taste like salmon, it doesn't taste like anything we've ever tasted. Always another lesson to be learned in this wonderful sea.