Text and photographs by Mary L. Peachin, David F. Peachin, and courtesy of The Tides Resort
April, 2011, Vol. 15, No. 6
Watching those long dorsal fins zigzag while chasing our lures pumped our hearts. Roosterfish will veer away from a slowed popper. A species of amberjack, the rooster has a run that keeps on running and running and running. Fighting a sizable striped beauty with its upright cock-like dorsal on 30 pound test is an easy half hour fight.
That roosterfish had always eluded me “gnawed in my craw.” Migrating from Baja’s shore in the Sea of Cortez as far south as Costa Rica, their schooling habits always varied from my itineraries. When I read an Ixtapa Sportfishing’s e-blast report that Captain Adolpho had a nine roosterfish or pez gallo in a day, I Googled airline reservations, called my husband David, and said, “Let’s go!”
During Zihuatenejo and Ixtapa’s steamy rainy season, airline service is reduced. A mechanical delay in Tucson meant a missed flight connection in Los Angeles, which delayed our trip by three days and required an overnight stay in Los Angeles. Would the hassle be worth it?
Skunked! “Should’a been here last week.” How many times have you heard that? Finally, for the first time in my life or 30 years of fishing, I was there at the right time, on the very best of days.
Before first light, it didn’t appear like it was going to be such an amazing fishing day. Clashing thunder and lightning bolts jarred us awake. Calling Captain Adolpho’s home, David and I learned that he had already left for the dock, forgetting his mobile. Scrambling out of bed, we jumped in a taxi and slalomed through flooded streets. Adolpho and his mate, Jesus “Gorilla” Juarez were waiting for us at Paseo del Pescador.
Casa Blanca, an hour’s boat ride south, is a remote beach with pounding surf. Beyond its shoreline, which is lined with miles of coconut plantations, lie the lush green foothills of the Sierra Madre’s. Trolling live cocineros, and casting Yo-zuri pink and blue poppers into the surf, in four hours, we released 13 roosterfish ranging from a dozen to 90 pounds. The average rooster weighs approximately 25-30 pounds.
Trolling with an opened bail, Adolpho suggested waiting five seconds to give the fish time to take the bait. A quick snap of the bail usually resulted in a hook up. Poppers, casted into the surf, require a very quick retrieval.
A release for my memory book was the ninety-ish pounder, who in a flash, spooled my reel. Adolpho wasn’t content to let me lose the fish with his line and popper. Approaching the peak of the swell as safely as possible, Adolpho incredibly spotted the fishing line floating in the water. He quickly grabbed it, re-threaded the rod from the tip, and then tied it to the reel. In a heartbeat, I was again fighting the big guy. We had been trolling south all morning so minutes later, Adolpho suggested that we return to port, a two and a half hour trip.
Rubbing our aching biceps, we admired the gorgeous seascape bordering remote beaches lined with palms. David and I wondered why Adolpho and Dos Hermano I was the only boat around. “Roosters ride the waves. It you are too far away, you can’t cast to them, and flipping his hand upside down, if you get too close to a breaking wave, the boat is a goner, terminado.” Not too many captains will take that risk.
We didn’t expect to savor the same experience twice. In fact, a chubasco the previous night prevented local fisherman from bait fishing. The storm eliminated the possibility of buying more cochineros.
“Today, you are going to have to work hard just casting poppers.” The 10 foot “Beast Master” rod, weighing 100 grams, with 30 pound test was not an easy spin cast. Adolpho could manage a 100 or so yards, the muscle-bound “Gorilla” could cast perhaps 150 yards. While the roosters weren’t as big as the previous day, we quit after bringing twenty to the boat. Drenched with sweat and exhausted, we topped Adolpho’s eighteen year personal record of releasing 14, by catching six more, a total catch of twenty.
Keeping a few of the tasty fish, similar in consistency and flavor to dorado or mahi-mahi, Adolpho proudly said, “those guys at the dock will be all over me like seagulls.”
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Paseo del Pescador, Zihuatenejo and Ixtapa’s fishing dock, jumps during the hour before sunrise. And that frenetic early morning activity continues all year round.
Waiting their turn to board chartered boats anchored off the Paseo, eyes pop open as eager anglers awake to the action-packed scene. Women sit on the dock selling Big Eye scad and corineros, a small, hearty green jack used as trolling bait. Feral cats rest patiently as if trained to wait for the leftovers. Captains, and a few gringos, pause at a stall to grab a coffee, burrito, or tortillas.
As the sun rises over the Pacific, the departing fleet of fishing boats head north or south for inshore fishing or directly westward, motoring approximately ten miles into blue water to troll for billfish, dorado, and tuna.
It’s a rare treat to be ocean fishing with my family. Both my husband David and daughter Suzanne are mas o meños “faint of stomach” so we follow the calmer shoreline. Our hope is to catch a rooster fish, a lofty goal since they tend to frequent Ixtapa’s breaking surf in early summer.
Trolling less than a mile offshore on super panga Dos Hermanos I, Captain Aldolfo Espinosa of Ixtapa Sportfishing Charters tells us that we are liable “to catch anything.” The area’s abundant schools of sardines and anchovies attract many species of fish. For several hours, we troll rapalas reeling in a dozen or more Spanish mackerel, bonito, and skip jack.
With plenty of fish to reel, there’s less time to be distracted by the beauty of the area. Circling Potosi’s rocky islands, we admired saguaro-like cardon cactus. Frigates glided on wind currents, brown-footed boobies nest on the island. Waves pounding remote beaches could be a surfer’s paradise.
Captain Adolpho’s Dos Hermanos I twenty-five foot super panga is powered by a single 75 horsepower Yamaha Enduro engine. Adolpho prefers the faster response time of tiller steering. It’s better for maneuvering between breaking waves, a definite skill required for roosterfish
The fiberglass panga has cushioned gunwales and two mounted fighting chairs. A shaded covering protects from the sun, an open air head, tucked behind a panel near the bow, is an added convenience. Adolpho proudly maintains and annually overhauls the 50 year old boat. His father originally used the boat for fishing commercially.
These are not the typical pangas found throughout Mexico, they are faster, more comfortable, and overall more efficient.
* * *
While ocean conditions are usually calm in Zihuatenejo and Ixtapa’s waters, we awoke for our second day of fishing with a weather prediction for ten foot swells with chop and gusting winds. My family quickly bailed on me.
Meeting Captain Aldolfo on the Paseo, the two of us motored more than an hour to reach blue water. While his super panga is smaller than many of the more luxurious yachts available for charter, he can run a lot faster. The chop and big waves bounced us like kids on a trampoline.
Gaviotas or gulls swooped around us as Adolpho rigged the outriggers with “big eyes” dressed with a plastic pink lip, just an added attraction for the bill fish. We trailed two squid teasers.
Stricker Classic series rods with Shimano 25 two speed reels holding 30# test were ready for any blind strike in the rough water. As a school of dolphin circled the boat, Adolpho rubbed his nose so I would know they were bottle-nosed.
It was hard to believe that Adolpho’s GPS read a distance of twenty four miles from shore. Near a shipping lane, we watched cargo loaded freighters heading to and from the Panama Canal. Zihuatenejo’s larger, but slower yachts appeared to be staying closer to shore. Adolpho commented “Rough water=seasick anglers, better for gringos to stay closer to port.”
Within minutes, the outrigger snapped. A Pacific sail, weighing about 100 pounds, performed multiple jumps before I brought it to the boat. Adolpho doesn’t back the boat down on fish so I had a 25-minute workout. Before he released the sail’s bill, he asked me to feed it a bait fish. “I want the sail to have good thoughts and return another day.”
Ten minutes later, Adolpho looked at his watch then grabbed his GPS. Dos Hermanos I had drifted an additional five miles, and we were now 29 miles from the dock. Before we could pull in the lines, both outrigger lines zinged, a “double” hookup. Adolpho placed one rod in the holder as I grabbed the other, reeled in a 105 pounder, then picked up the second rod to release an even larger sail. What a way to end a day of fishing.
* * *
Zihuatenejo and Ixtapa simmers with an annual three hundred days of sunshine and its waters are typically calm. In these stable conditions the fishing usually sets up quickly and patterns tend to hold consistent throughout the season. Of course, there are brief transitional periods in late August and September, and those occasional days when strong winds create rough water and make fishing difficult.
But, Zihuatenejo and Adolpho have never failed me. I may never have another record roosterfish catch and release, but I harbor no thoughts of the “skunk.”