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Panama 2011
It’s January; its New England, you can ice fish, you can watch the snow fall and keep the driveway clear or…you can go fishing.
I jumped at the opportunity to join the Cota family, Chuck, Chas, Brian and Kevin for a trip to Panama Sportfishing Lodge last week. The timing was right; the location was where I wanted to go – off we went. The Cota’s had been early customers of PSFL and were on their 4th trip.
After flights and a 6 hour drive across the length of Panama , green, rugged and gorgeous; we arrived at the lodge well after dark. I was not sure what to expect; I hoped for a clean place with reasonable food and well equipped boats. Boy – was I in for a surprise.
After a couple Panama and Balboa beers we were served steak and seared tuna, vegetables and rice; a dinner that would have easy cost 40$ back in the States. John DelaCruz – the owner is an ex restaurateur and the food throughout the stay was superb. His attention to detail is evident in the meals as well as throughout the lodge. I was equally pleased when I saw my room, spacious, air conditioned with a remote temperature control that worked; a full sized shower and immaculate bathroom. While the locale was rustic; the accommodations were 1st class.
The next morning was even better; the 5 of us hopped aboard a 35 Marlago loaded with about 14 rods and set out for Montuosa Island. Montuosa is the last land before the Galapago’s, probably 50 miles from the dock. While I don’t fear a 50 mile run, I’m used to it taking 2+ hours in my reasonably fast boat. No so in the Malargo, at 29 or 30 knots we flew there; arriving well under 2 hours. During the week across 2 boats and talking with John the passion and need for big solid fast boats came across and was apparent – we left the dock at a civilized 6:30- 6:45, and arrived on the grounds either #1 or #2, we also fished as late as 4 PM and still beat the other lodges back to the dock. Those extra hours were the different on 3 of the 5 days. The speed caught us fish on multiple days.
Monday – Jan 10th
Day 1 we spun by Hannibal Bank of Zane Grey fame to make bait and have a look around. We had 6 skipjack in the tuna tubes and 2 swimming behind the boat in about 10 minutes and were immediately looking for marlin. Almost on cue one jumped ¼ mile away, 3 springs in a row. Hopes were high. Then another boat started getting harassed by “grande’ – larger porpoises which ate 3 baits in about 5 minutes. Then the grande’s came after us.
In Panama there are good porpoise which are spotted and small and swim and feed with tuna and there are bad porpoises – the larger grande’s which will steal your bait. The grande’s got one of ours and we were out of Dodge. At the same time Sergio got the call we’d hear all week “tuna, tuna, tuna” – the tuna were up on the surface just west of Montuosa, 12 miles away. Off we went; screaming at close to 30 knots into a head sea; half way there we found birds, slowed and deployed bait, but Sergio said “no porpoise – too hard” and off we went to chase the radio’s siren call.
Panama holds tuna year round due to a cool deep water Humbolt current - while there are tuna everywhere they swim for the most below the 100’ thermocline, coming up periodically to feed on the surface. You find them by birdpiles over porpoise; find that combination and you had a good shot at tuna. The tuna are up and down, up and down, stay with the life and maybe you’ll get a shot. So with only 1 of the 3 present off we went, skirting a long rock reef that extends out to the southwest of Montuousa.
In 300’ a few miles west of the island we found the boats, the birds and the porpoise and a few scattered tuna smashes. The morning feed was over. We spent what would become a predictable hot mid day period from 11 AM -2 PM swimming live baits over a hot, flat but lifeless sea. At 2 Brian started scanning with his stabilized binoculars, a tool I had pooh poohed before the trip, but never again.
He found birds a few miles out to the south and off we went - birds and porpoise – lets stay here! Out went he baits, but the birds and porpoise were moving, we chased, Brian and Kevin casting away in the bow while I sat by the 50’s in the stern waiting for a bite.
The 2 guys worked hard; we got into a tight ball of birds and bam – Brian was on – bzzzzzzzzzz; snap – the line broke. A few minutes later Kevin was on a huge fish which powered off at warp speed down and out. The Stella/OTI Sniper setups were great casting rods; the Stella had plenty of drag but the rods were 50-80# class and didn’t have the backbone for what was clearly a large fish. We traded off 3 times in about 20 minutes; in 90 degree heat it’s not about ego and personal heroics; it’s about getting the job done. Unfortunately the hook pulled. We saw enough other action the rest of the week and weighed a couple other fish to feel comfortable saying this fish was probably north of 150#. 4 PM “no more time” said Sergio as we did one last chase and cast – Chuck hooked up on this one and after a few minutes got back a lure without a rear treble – the split ring had failed.
“Sorry sirs – we need to go – no more time”. It was 4:30 and we had 50 miles to go. Even at 30 knots we didn’t get back to the dock till close till 6:30; 0-3 but an insane hour and a half of action to whet our whistle for Tuesday.
With no fish of our own; we still got served tuna steak and fresh jumbo Panamanian local shrimp for dinner.
Tues Jan 11th.
Off we went with Sergio and Gravin the mate again. Sergio is a seasoned 40’ish captain; Gravin is John’s 4th captain, young and strong and a great fisherman. Over the course of the week Gravin worked his ass off for us and made it happen multiple times for us. On the way out we saw some life about 8 miles north of Montuosa; trolled marlin lures for a while and then got on with our day. We started with the ubiquitous bait gathering; fast trolling chains of 3” octopus on planers for 3-10# skipjack, bonito and little tunny. You can never have enough for these guys; its always about having full tubes. Once we made half dozen baits we jogged out to the northeast of Montuosa in ~250’ and set up. We saw a marlin jump a mile to the east; then one crash a mile to the north. Sergio said “marlin there” and pointed east, “marlin there” and pointed north, “baits here” – a man of few words.
We waited; bait twitched, clicking a few feet off the 50. We waited; the sun got hotter. We waited some more, another click or two. “Marlin here” said Sergio as he idled the boat in a tight circle letting one bait then another sink deep. Brrrrrrrrr; the rod went, Sergio was on it, it stopped, he waited hand on the line. Bzzz, off it went again, a 10 second run, then nothing. After a long wait Sergio retrieved the bait; slashed on one side and killed by a bill thrust completely through the gills. Yes Sergio – marlin was here.
Was is the operative word; we waited an excruciating 2 more hours with a sailfish up and playing with the large baits, teased by Gravin with a smaller dead one but not interested or at all aggressive. Throughout the trip we saw many dozens of sails, Macho – the captain later in the week said they were mating and wouldn’t bite. This was the 1st of many that proved his point.
We also had what was easily a 25# mahi come in and eat a 5# bonito. Mahi in Panama always seem to start north of 20#; no babies here!
After noon Gravin and Sergio gave up; 3 boats in the area, 3 hours, no bites. We put out my marlin lures and started working back to the life. As always Brian and Kevin were in the bow; rods ready and binoculars scanning the horizon. They called Gravin forward, pointed, gave him the binoc’s and conferred. Gravin got up on the gunwale for added height, spoke excited Spanish to Sergio and up came the lures and off we went. 3 miles later, a mile past Gravin’s eye range we found a birdpile to end all birdpiles and porpoise rolling and tuna crashing. Brian, Kevin and Chuck were firing from the bow; one of them hooked and lost a fish, another had a boil. It was on. Gravin grabbed a rod from the stern, fired out a rocket of a cast; popped twice and was tight, handed me the rod and belted me up. This one stayed tight and I was able to quickly get it to the boat green. I got it to 15’, locked hard, lifted and got it to 10’ then 5’.
We then learned something about Gravin – he’s a maestro of the gaff. He’s tall and lean and powerfully built; I got the fish up to 3’ under the boat and 4’ out and said “2 more circles”. Wrong – Gravin – reached out one armed like a first baseman going for a low throw; dug deep under the fish and gaffed it one armed going away 3’ down and 4’ out. To anyone of us that was an impossible shot; then to make things more impressive he hung on one armed to a mad, very green and angry yellowfin, somehow got the 2nd hand onto the gaff, controlled the fish and had a 75 pounder on the deck before it even began to fight. Skunk off – one in the box. High 5’s and what would become the Cota style – pictures all around with the fish.
But the birds were piling the tuna crashing and off we went again. This time Brian and Kevin doubled up in the bow in the same fish/bird/porpoise pile, lines crossed and screaming. They sorted it out and hammered up a pair of nice 35 and 40# yellowfin in short order; Gavin doing his one arm strike bang, bang, 2 more in the box after pictures all around. Now we knew the tackle was more than up to the task.
Chuck then hooked one and broke off again. At this point other boats had joined the bite. We moved to a new pile and new set of large holes in the water. The boys were working up front and I was lazily tossing a swimming Shibuki behind their poppers, trying to see if I could get something out of their work.
I got crushed! A huge boil and instantly line started screaming. Gravin yelled at me to set, to amuse him I did so even though I was pretty sure this fish was pinned pretty good. It dumped out a quick scream and settled deep. As I started to work it I could feel it was heavy but it was coming up. Much more mass than the last one, but for some reason it was coming up with my short and steady lifts. I got it perhaps 80’ down and close to color, but then it woke up and tore off a lot of line fast. I gave it another 5 minutes, but knew I wasn’t up for an extended battle with this fish in 90 degree heat and handed off to Brian. He worked it for a while, then the line angle changed; the fish came up to the surface a long way out off the starboard stern corner. Sergio backed down slowly and Brian was able to quickly get line back on the reel.
The fish settled deep and he handed off to Chas who put a lot of back into lifting and started to move it up. 10 minutes and up came Kevin – the terminator. We saw color for the 1st time, easily 50’ down and it was “muy bien, grande!”. The color circles stayed deep; then again the tuna surfaced 50’ out. Kevin was struggling as the tuna circled 50’ out; 30’ down. Sergio then made a move in reverse I didn’t think possible. Somehow he backed and turned the boat to where the tuna was going to surface while it was still deep; he actually backed over the fish; when it came up it was 5’ out and starboard midships. Gavin was there like a cat; reached and hit the fish as it was going down and in and under the boat.
Somehow he hung on one armed to an angry and hot tuna; Sergio got a second gaff in it and “un, dos, tres” and it was on the deck, a Chatham sized yellowfin gorgeous with huge sickle fins. We weighed it 5 hours later at the dock, bled it was 141# quite the fish on spinning gear.
High 5’s all around again as this was more than we bargained for on a mid weight rod and only accomplished by teamwork of all 7 of us. Everyone played their part. 3:30 – 4 in the box, as we bled the fish we took a celebratory swim in 500’ of blue bloody water and screamed back to the dock; sun on our back’s; green islands all around us, the rugged Cordillera of Panama rising out of the clouds ahead of us.
Now that’s what we’re talking about!
On a technical front I found it interesting how casually the Panamanian’s treat leader and terminal tackle. 80# braid, a 1’ doubled section albrighted to a short 3’ piece of 150# test. No fancy setups like we used; but it repeatedly got the job done and was a dream to cast.
Early dock arrival at 5 PM left plenty of time for pictures, celebration and general fun. We found dock bass/Boca Chica style was a school of voracious jack crevalle chowing down on the tuna scraps.
Another dinner tough to take – yellowfin sashimi, followed by grilled yellowfin and mahi steaks.
Day 3 – Jan 12th.
We switched captains with Macho taking over for Sergio; and Gravin remaining as mate. For entertainment we also had Macho’s 18 year old son Jeffrey along as supercargo. We also switched to a 34’ Stamas, a bit beamier than the Marlago and a bit more room.
Macho said “Montuosa” and off we went. It was a tough morning for us and the entire fleet of 6 assorted boats out; no one saw fish, one small marlin was trolled up on plastic but the fish had clearly moved on. After hammering a 260’ hump just south of Montuosa for hours Macho came up with a new trick. We moved out to 400’, tied on huge OTI jigs and started dropping on marks in 400’. It wasn’t long till the 1st hookup – Gravin of course – who handed the rod to Chas who eventually slugged up a gorgeous 30# snowy grouper, one of the larger ones that Macho had seen. It was followed in short order by a half dozen more. New species for dinner tonight!!!
We trolled north with plastics back to previous locations looking for life, “nada”, “meurte”. One 25# mahi suicided on a 13” marlin lure – if nothing else we would eat good again tonight. At 2:30 Macho pulled the plug and started to steam north to a hump we could at least find some snapper and amberjacks to pull on. We never got there.
Coming up out of clear blue deep water into shallower dirty water we started running over finning sailfish and seeing birds. Once more the binoculars made the day. Brian spotted something off to the northeast and we angled that way. Big white water and jumps “pilotes” – pilot whales. Nothing to bother over for Macho.
But Brian refused to lose and kept pointing – Gravin got up on the gunwale; started pointing and speaking in excited Spanish and off we went. 3 miles later we won the lottery – acres of white water, porpoises, pilots, bird and tuna explosions for a few acres, bait tinkling on the surface.
One, two casts off the bow and Kevin got hammered in an explosion of white with a Chatham sized hole. This fish screamed long and hard – we had no doubt it wasn’t a 40 or 50 pound fish and belted Kevin in for a long battle. He survived the 10 minute initial runs and settled in for what looked to be an extended battle. With lots of line out and the fish up Macho backed down allowing Kevin to quickly get back within 50 yards of the fish. Now the battle began. In full harness Kevin was able to gain on the fish slowly. As happened the other day, for some reason the fish surfaced a few dozen yards out – game over with a crack Panamanian crew; aggressive backing and once more Captain Hook’s one armed gaff shot had this fish on the decks with a minimal end game. High fives and boat on the pins to head for the dock. Once more we arrived home at sunset. Fish weight – 95#!.
Day 4 – Jan 13th
This was the bad day. If you fish 5 days you have to expect one like this. We decided to go inshore, or so we thought. The target was the Ladrones Islands, a pile of incredibly scenic rocks and sheer cliffs rising perhaps 500’ above the Pacific and a mere 25 miles from the dock. I for one was looking for the lazy day.
We pulled up and past the Ladrones and once more made bait, hmmm. Bait for casting at rocks? Oh look – guess what – we’re marlin fishing around breaking bonito in 300’ of water. OK. After a somewhat fruitless 2 hours punctuated by casting tuna lures at bonito and rainbow runner we gave up marlin fishing and got loose to the rocks. Loose meant 20-40’ of depth and 50 yards from the island. 1st point – 2 jacks, 2nd point, nothing, 3rd point nothing, 4th point – very very wide pass.
“nada – Montuosa” – off we went on a 25 mile run for more bait making and marlin fishing.
We did drop on a couple humps and have 2 cubera runoffs but Thursday there was no joy in Mudville.
Highlight of the day was casting at lazing sailfish and Brian snagging a seasnake – the one with cobra venom - 10 minutes and your dead variety on a 10” popper.
Day 5 – Jan 14th
Last at bat; got to get it done. Game faces all around; the wind was out of the north, not the west for the 1st time all week and we were on a mission to Hannibal to make bait; Coiba, Contreras and Secas for Cubera and Roosters. Sure ….
We were 3rd boat to Hannibal and there was a long liner and 2 panga’s spearfishing on the bank. The bait ball was in the boats so we had to move and find another bait patch. After the 1st 4 baits were in the tubes we started the daily marlin fish “look around, see what’s here” said Macho. Not thrilled with killing 2 hours of the last day Brian and Kevin pulled out the Fujinon’s and started glassing. Soon enough they were handing the binoc’s to Gravin who soon enough got excited and up on the gunwale. Up came the baits and off we went on a 4 mile speed run.
To the mother of all bird piles and tuna boils. We pulled up into the melee; fired and boom – one on, two one…….delayed cast and 3 on! These were perfect sized for cast and kill – 3 30-50# tuna were soon on the deck and it wasn’t even 9:30! We chased birds and fish for another hour or so; had a couple swings and brief hookups but no other fish. 11 AM, guess where we went?
Back to the back to swim baits while we cleaned fish! This time we did have some company “pilotes” again. The pilot whales had a grand time with our baits – we had one on 3 times but couldn’t get tight; eventually we got the husk of a bonito, a head and eyes and a pair of gill plates with nothing inside.
“cubera?” I begged.
“need small baits” came the response as we trolled the Bank for bonito; eventually we got 4 and thoughts of big red fish and jack’s with whit sails crossed through my head.
“tuna, tuna, tuna” came over the radio however and off we went at warp speed southwards. I cringed as valuable time was ticking off the clock as we raced towards deep water off Jicaron, an island south of Coiba. A 6 mile run at 28 knots is a short 13 minutes and we pulled up into a melee of birds, porpoise and big tuna. This time we had a couple boils and misses before I came tight on a tuna which ate the popper so deep that when we cut it out of the throat; the bottom treble came out with squid and baitfish impaled on it!
We ended the tuna wars with another small fish released at boat side.
“no more time – Secas for cubera” said Macho and off we raced 36 miles to the Seca’s islands for a short hour to try for cubera. An hour and something later we pulled into the Seca’s another gorgeous and sheer set of rock faces. 3:45, a mere 45 minutes of time left on the clock.
1st drop was in 110’; Macho circled a hump; marked the fish with the 1000 Watt Furuno 292 and set up a drop and drift over the fish hanging off the edge of the hump. 2 dead baits went down – “nada” as we made a couple drives. 4:05.
We moved inwards to 70’ and dropped 3 baits this time; again – nada as we made a couple drifts. 4:15, clock is counting down.
Inwards again, 40’ and lots of marks. 2 baits down. Bzz, my rod bends and I crank and…nada. Missed it. The other rod bends; bzzz and we miss that also. Last of the 9th; step back and let the pro’s at it. Gravin at the bat and he misses.
Reset with the drift and the baits; bzzz, another swing and a miss. “Sorry – no time says Macho and motions to crank them up. Game over, or so it seems.
Gravin is working his up; crank and drop, crank and dangle when he goes tight; cranks, pulls, laughs and hands the rod to Chas. A quick and hard fight in 40’ and a red shape comes to the surface; Gravin gills and lifts – victory – we have a 50# cubera on the deck! Teeth, red eye, armored scales, tail the size of a broom – this is a fish to admire!
4:40; 20 miles from the dock, 27 knot boat, turn and burn as we steam through the Seca’s at warp speed; a rainbow to our right, dark clouds and islands to our left; one last run down the Parida’s chain, mountains of the mainland rising up behind, dancing our way into the mouth of Boca Chica and into the river, back to the lodge. Mission accomplished!
The tally for the trip might have been modest but the action and variety was non stop.
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