Fishing along the Michoacan coast has never been boring, even during slow seasons. To start off, there are no marinas to comfortably park your boat and load the fuel. My boat stays on the beach, thanks to a community tractor that drags it in and out of the ocean.
At 23 feet and less than 3,000 pounds, the Sea Señor lives on a small beach and fuels up when I get the chance to take her out year round.
A recent weekend in particular, the ocean made my journey a challenging one. With south-west bound winds and a four-foot chop, I was limited to fishing only as far as 15 nautical miles south for pelagic sport fish such as mahi mahi, marlin and sailfish, or along the coast for rooster fish and snapper. Being a three-day weekend (Constitution Day), I tried the latter on day one.
We loaded our gear – including our star lures manufactured in Guadalajara – into the boat, as well as the coolers with refreshments and my favorite “agua ardiente” from Casa Madero. The community tractor pushed us off into the churning Pacific and the search began.I like to see if “Bubba” – the 300-pound marlin – is out there, or any of his little friends, to keep my thirst for “man vs. nature” quenched. Unfortunately, Bubba did not show his bill this weekend, but an exciting group of mahis were up for the challenge.
A lone 18-foot log that drifted about 10 miles south of the beach along a trash line was the temporary refuge for a decent school of mahis. On the first strike the whole crew was excited. For all of you who have not had the pleasure to reel in one of these colorful creatures, let me describe how the show goes.
As we approached the log to see what it had in store for us, six or seven mahis aggressively leaped out of the water in our direction. These fish are non-stop consumers of anything that moves. Our lures must have been swimming at a tasty speed for them to lock on from so far away. Before we knew it, two of our six rods were bent and the reels started singing. The mahis jumped and danced their battle against our tackle. The frenzy on the boat to coordinate the fight and land the fish in the cooler was filled with orders and careful coordination from the captain. I say “coordination,” although others may think it’s just shouting and yelling of orders. This process happened over and over for an hour until the fish were no longer hungry or interested in our bait. Five unfortunate mahis lost the battle to the rod and reel, but five excited fishermen high-fived and drank to the victory.
The ride against wind and water back to Michoacan soil went almost unnoticed by the happy crew of the Sea Señor. Back on mainland, our lovely cook, Toña, made the most delicious “Mahi a la Francois,” with a citric butter and herb sauce – a recipe left behind by an old friend from Normandy, France on one of his visits to this beautiful coast. He, too, is a sportsman and seeker of nautical adventures.
The other days were not as bountiful, but gave us better weather as a parting gift before heading back to my hometown of Guadalajara. These weekends come and go throughout the year and keep me looking forward to the next. I trust one day I will fill you in on landing “Bubba.”