Hello,
Fishing Report July 7, 2007
I'm not a subscriber to the Fishing report, but I am a subscriber to the Hunting report, and you have published a few of my fishing trip reports in the past. I have another one for you. I recently went on a fishing trip and I thought you would enjoy some of the details.
I come from a long line of hunters. My father, who is 79, is a hunter too. I was visiting him, when all of a sudden he announces he wanted to catch a Marlin for some unknown reason. Why at age 79 did he decide he needed to go catch a Marlin? This is something no one in the family has ever heard he talk about before. My family does fish, but we are not salt-water anglers.
None of us has ever gotten seasick; we just never went very often. Not high on our priority list. Shortly after my father's announcement of his brand new life long dream, I attended the Alaska Chapter of Safari Club International Dinner, where they were auctioning a five-day Marlin fishing trip on the Coral Star in Panama.
I purchased it and we went on Feb 10-15, 2007. When we got there, we met our guide and he asked me what I wanted to fish for, I said, "Get my father one Marlin and I'll be happy."
He said, "Okay. But you got to get up early."
Get up early, no problems in my family, we are early risers! We get up before dark, on Sunday mornings, to make sure none of those lazy hickens
over sleep.
The first morning of Marlin fishing, well the first day of fishing, we were the first ones up. Our guide was the first boat there, and we set off, to be the first ones to go Marlin fishing.
We stopped for a couple of minutes to catch baitfish; most of our catch would have been a fine day of fly-fishing in Alaska. After filling our bait box, our early bird Captain finished the half hour long run to the Marlin fishing hotspot. Under our experienced and all knowing eyes, he carefully set up our four fishing rods and we started trolling. You see, we let on we were experienced anglers who fished in Australia, Africa, Europe, Greenland, Labrador and the best one of them all, Alaska. I think he was a little
intimidated by our past fishing experiences all over the world. We didn't mention it was mainly freshwater. Little did he know, how soon he would be singing our praises over the radio?
We didn't have time to go over the techniques of landing any Marlin, because the Captain and the deckhand were busy adjusting and moving gear
before they settled in for a full day of slow trolling. My father and I were just talking about the trip, when I heard a strange sound. It sounded like the single ‘click' of a fishing reel, but when I looked over at the reels, all I saw was the Captain sitting next to one of the four rods. Nothing looked out of place to me, but I turned back to my father and asked him, "Did you just hear a click?" Even before he could answer, I heard another one. My father points to the deckhand who is now sitting next to another rod and he said, "You mean like that?"
"Yeah, what does it mean?"
"I guess they are adjusting the rods."
Now this man is my father and after 54 four years of being his son, I know he knows everything about everything, so I accepted the clicks were nothing more than adjusting a reel.
You also have to remember, we have never gone salt water fishing except for two days of Marlin fishing in Hawaii, where we never got a bite and all we did was slow troll for mythical Marlin. My father went to Mexico for sailfish for one day and did not get a bite. I've been tarpon fishing in Florida for three days during the peak of the run and didn't' get a bite. We are the greenest rookies you can find, when it came to deep-water fishing. A total of six days without a bite, I honestly believed deep-water fishing was all about removing dollars from tourist, without having to clean fish. This is our total past experience of deep salt-water fishing. Therefore, we've never heard a reel go ‘click' before, and had no idea what it meant.
Suddenly the Captain yells something in Spanish and hits the throttle, dark coal like smoke pours out from the engines, and my father and I are
thrown back against the bulkhead. The Captain and Crew are so excited, they're dancing and yelling in Spanish, and motioning for us to come reel in the fish.
The Captain did speak English perfectly, but it is his second language. For some reason he's so excited, he is only speaking Spanish with machine
gun velocity, and he is furiously motioning us to come up and reel. From my hunting trips in Mexico and Spain, I learned enough gutter Spanish to get in trouble, but not enough to understand when two people are yelling and simultaneously speaking at a rapid-fire speed. But I do know enough to
understand the Captain, when he yells, "Grande y poquito." Which means, "Big and little!"
So we had two fish on, but what were they? My answer came immediately when a large fish broaches the water, about 100 yards behind the boat. It's got a spear on the end of its nose, dark blue in color and looks big, wonder if it
is a Marlin? To you experienced Marlin anglers, I am sure this train of thought sounds stupid, especially since we are Marlin fishing, but that is exactly what went through my mind. Turns out it was a Black Marlin.
My father, who did not see the fish broach, asked, "What is it?"
"I think we got one or two marlin on."
Gallantly he waves his hand, and smiles, "You go get it!"
Even more gallantly, I wave him towards the rod, "No. This is your trip, and you're the one who wants to catch a marlin. You get it!"
"No, I'll catch the next one. This one is yours!"
"You get up there; I only came on this trip, because you wanted to catch a Marlin."
"You do it, I only wanted to go Marlin fishing with my son. I don't need to catch a fish!"
"You go get it. This trip is for you!"
My father is smiling even more, and wagging his right fore finger up and down at my nose, just like he did when I was fourteen, "I'm your father and you do as I say. Go catch that fish!"
Honestly, this silly conversation went on for several minutes, during which neither of us moved an inch, as we discussed who was going to reel in
the first Marlin. I sincerely can't remember all we talked about, because it was so hard to hear what my father was saying, with two overexcited
Spanish-speaking guides screaming and yelling so loud in my ear. I would have never thought people in Panama could be that rude!
Finally, after about five minutes the Captain grabbed me physically and shoved me to the back of the boat. I was the closest one to him. Almost
feeling insulted that he would manhandle me in such a rough manner; I felt he'd assaulted me. Protesting, but to no avail, I was strapped in and forced to start fighting a Marlin.
Now I am used to fighting king salmon on a seven-weight fly rod with 17-pound leader. In Alaska, these brutes will weigh 20-60 pounds in the knee
deep trout streams I fish, and they will pull you several hundred yards up or down the bank. But, when I felt the pull a huge Marlin can put on that broomstick of a fishing pole, now bent over in a U shape, I have to admit I can see why people get addicted to Marlin fishing!
The fight was magnificent! I can't tell you how long look it took, because I didn't check my watch, and no one else on the boat did either. I'd been advised by the MV Coral Star travel coordinators to go lift some weights to
get my arms strong enough to pull in a Marlin. I did listen to them; I spent a few months before the trip going to the gym getting in shape. I worked out with a professional trainer who once was the World Champion in weight lifting. I didn't spend enough time in the gym, it wasn't enough. Although I was getting tired, I did manage to drag that Marlin up to the boat. I
briefly saw the fish for a few seconds, and it was huge, and still swimming! Biggest fish I'd ever seen, and I don't know if I told you, but the fight was MAGNIFICENT!
After the deckhand climbed on the swimming platform at the rear of the boat, and as he bent down to grasp the leader, I turned to the Captain and asked the immediate question on every rookie anglers' mind, "How big is it?"
Causally he remarks, in perfect English, with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders, "Maybe 350!"
I was hurt! Here I had just caught the biggest fish in my life, and he acts so blasé. Before I could protest him insulting my fish, the leader parted, and my fish of a lifetime swam away. I blew it. I must have jerked the rod when I turned to the Captain. I didn't even get a picture. I was disappointed in the Captain, and the Crew that they would be so indifferent about my first Marlin. What I didn't know, was the deckhand had cut the leader intentionally, so we could start trying to land the second fish. The deckhand darted over and removed my pole, and slipped the second rod into the rod holder. Looking me straight in the eye, he smiles widely, showing me
all his perfectly white Panamanian teeth and says in a heavy accented English, "Now the big one!"
Swiveling my head back to the captain, I can see he's now smirking too. He gives me a wink, before he says, "Now catch a big one!"
The big one, what did he mean? I thought that was the ‘big' one. My arms are so tired, I'm not sure if I can handle another fish. Nevertheless, I
started fighting my second Marlin, with maybe a ten-second break to rest my overworked arms.
My father and I traded off fighting that fish for a long time. Each one of us complaining, how hard it was to bring in the monster Marlin, while the
other one drank cold beers and ate the other's lunch. We fought as a team for that Marlin, but what we really found was a father and son memory of a lifetime.
How many hours did we fight that Marlin? I don't know. An hour, maybe two, it could have been three hours. All I know, was time stood still, as a father and son evolved into two close friends sharing a rare and wonderful day of fishing together!
I just know I was exhausted, when we finally got it in! Immediately and without shame, I did ask, "How big?"
The Captain said, "It‘s too big to tell. Somewhere between five and six hundred pounds! Maybe bigger. Depends on how big around it is. When they get that big, you can't really tell without pulling it out of the water"
We didn't pull it out of the water, we released it safely, and I'm glad.
Grabbing my camera for a picture, I discovered it was too big for a decent picture! Even with a panoramic lens and climbing to the front of the boat, I could barely get it in the lens of my old 35 mm camera. When I climbed to the front of the boat, I noticed that the length of the fish was way past the halfway point of the boat, and our boat was 28 feet long. The fish had to be at least 16-17 feet long, who knows maybe even eighteen feet? I didn't care since I shared it with my best friend, and it was our fish of a
lifetime!
I've seen a lot advertising about the need, "to take a Kid Fishing or Hunting", and I'm glad my father decided take his kid fishing, even though
his son is 54 years old! What a bonding moment!
My father and I were exhausted; our arms were wet noodles. I could barely move mine for the rest of the day. Nevertheless, we had our marlin!
Maybe it was because we were so tired, maybe bringing in a Marlin was just too much like work for us, but I like to believe it was because the fish was so perfect, because my father wagged his right forefinger towards the nose of the Captain and said, "That's enough, no more Marlin."
The Captain smiled knowingly, and turned the boat back to shore. We never again fished for Marlin for the rest of the trip.
I didn't want to fish anymore that day, and I said so. My father said he was too tired to fish, but about halfway back; the Captain set the rods up again, and told us, "No more Marlin, but we will troll back and see what we can find."
Honest, it's not a fish tale, but a rod tip started dancing again within minutes. I was too tired to move, and told my father so. He said he was too tired to catch another fish too. Which one of us got up to land our biggest
Sailfish of the trip? The one who had the youngest heart, and still gets as excited as a twelve-year-old boy gets on his first fishing trip of the season. Yes, my father landed a 130-pound sailfish. Twenty minutes later,
after setting down to rest, and calling for another cold drink, my father told me catching Marlin was easy, but it takes a real man to bring in a 130 pound Sailfish, and the next one was mine, if I could find the strength.
However, in ten minutes when the rod tip started dancing again, my father catapulted to the rod without any coaxing, and he landed a very large and the only Dorado on the trip. He didn't even offer me the rod. I was so tired, I didn't care. After that, we told the Captain, no more fishing for the day. We pulled up and went back to the Mother ship for some much needed rest. We only landed four fish on the first day. That's what you get for taking rookies from Alaska Marlin fishing. I did mention ‘I come from a long
line of hunters,' didn't I?
We fished for five days, and caught many more fish. Sailfish of 60-100 pounds became a nuisance. My father became the shark expert on the boat landing several different types and a seven and one half foot Bull shark really excited him. A surefire man-eater my father told everyone, and I ALWAYS BELIEVE MY FATHER WHEN IT COMES TO FISHING STORIES. Yeah, right!
We caught some very big Cubera ‘Dogtooth' snapper, and many types of reef fish. Most of these we did not release but ate on the boat, as we requested; we love fresh salt-water fish. They did have a large and varied menu, for
those who didn't like fish, lots of fruit and vegetables, plus steak and chicken. I liked the food.
Some fish were rare, like Dorado, Tuna, Wahoo, and Roosterfish. The Captain told me at the right time of year, these waters were swarming with
them. This was the time to catch Sailfish; I never did ask him when the peak of Marlin fishing was. February was the time Gus Gillespie planned the trip, and I just accepted he knew what he was doing, (he did) and February is a good time to leave Alaska.
We stayed on the Coral Star, a 115-foot Mother ship that moved each day as we fished, so we did not have to run great distances to find fish.
The crew and staff were wonderful and we both loved it.
I do want to finish with one story that shows the level of professionalism of the outfit and why I am recommending them so highly. When I bought the
trip, the trip listed for $4,665, which included two overnight stays in a very nice hotel/casino, and local airfare in Panama. The auction brochure
said a second person could come for $2,665. When I contacted Coral Star, they told me for that price the second person could only be a non-fishing companion, and they would have to pay for their own airfare and hotel rooms
in country. If they wanted to go fishing, it would be $4,665, not $2,665!
When I found out the trip was now $2,000 higher than advertised. I felt the Coral Star had done a bait and switch. I told the local chapter they
could have the trip back and to give it to someone else or use it as a door prize. I didn't want my money back from the auction, I've always considered the SCI auction was a donation and anything I got was a bonus. Outfitters
had burned me before with hidden costs, and I figured if this trip was starting out so bad, I didn't want to waste any more money and vacation time to find out how bad they could rip me off. I sent an email to Coral Star, and it only said I would not be coming this year. I didn't say, I didn't want to have anything to do with them.
A few days later, the local chapter of Safari Club International contacted me and they apologized, the proofreader for the dinner program made a mistake. The program was supposed to show the $2,665 rate was a nonfishing companion and if anyone else wanted to go fishing, it would be $4,665. This price would include local airfare and two nights stay in Panama City. The local SCI chapter offered to pay the $2,000 difference. After hearing their explanation, I smiled, then said, "I appreciate your honesty, and I am glad to see the Coral Star outfit was not ripping me off, and I will think about it."
Within an hour, I received phone call from Coral Star, and they said, "We heard about the mistake and I wonder if Coral Star paid the difference, would you and your father still like to come
fishing with us?"
I told them, "The local chapter of SCI said they would pay the difference, since it was their mistake and not yours. But I will think about it."
They said something along the line of, "We are more worried about our reputation than money, and so would you please allow us to pay the
difference?"
I'm telling you I was shocked, but intrigued by this level of professionalism in a fishing lodge. I decided to go, and let Coral Star pay the difference. Never have I been this impressed by fishing lodge, and I cannot recommend them higher.
If you want to contact Coral Star, their phone number is 1-866-924-2837.
Sincerely,
and this is as true and honest as any fish tale can be, it really
did happen this way,
Scott Hebertson
Alaska
PS Later, the Captain of our boat told me the reason he got so excited when the Marlin hit, there had been only three times in twenty five years of guiding, where he had two Marlin on at the same time, and ours was the first time where they landed them both.
I told him, "If more fathers would take their sons fishing, it would happen to him more often!"
One thing I learned from my father as a child, as he explained to me why we had to get up so early and make sure those lazy chickens didn't over sleep was, "Remember it is all right to crow, after you laid your egg (or after you've landed your Marlin!)".