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Jesse's Hunting > Fishing Articles > Articles > Bouncing on the Bounding Main - East Cape Kayak Fishing
Bouncing on the Bounding Main - East Cape Kayak Fishing
Phil Loughlin - JHO ProStaff
- Bay Area, CA
November 02, 2006
It’s a couple of hours past sunrise on a Friday morning, and I’m standing here on the shore of the Sea of Cortez wondering what the heck I’m doing here. The wind is freshening, after blowing all night, and the seas are piling up pretty good. My fishing party is standing around, like me, watching and wondering. Several cruisers have already gone by, making the run for the southern tuna grounds, but the pangas are scarce today… most likely due to the rough conditions.
Apres-Fish Haven
The patio and bar at Rancho Leonero provided a great place to relax after a rough day on the water. Jorge and the other bartenders have mastered the margarita! |
I guess that’s why I’m second-guessing myself here now. The cruisers are taking a beating in the four-foot chop. The pangas that don’t have to be out aren’t going today. The tuna have moved south, and while there is a slow dorado bite going on just offshore, it’s gonna be a heck of a day just getting the lines out. It’s a rough day for sport fishing, no matter what you’re after. Especially since my party is fishing from kayaks.
The first member of the party braves the surf, finds a lull in the relentless sets, and paddles through the whitewater. Outside the surf line, he pauses to rest, but the wind shoves him shoreward again and he must paddle another fifty yards before he can stop for breath. Emboldened by his success, a second member of the party takes off, and scuds over the breaking swells to the relative calm beyond.
At this, my friend, Dave “BigDog” Allen decides to make his move. He pushes the boat off of the sand, but his timing is bad and a breaker swamps, then nearly flips his boat and shoves it back onto the beach. Fortunately, he’s lashed his gear into the boat so nothing is lost or damaged. He looks back to see if any of us saw his mishap, and I try to stifle my laughter. I can’t laugh at him yet… I still have to get through this stuff too.
As Dave collects his gear and prepares for another attempt, my girlfriend, Kat, is being coached by our guide, Dennis Spike. One of the innovators in the sport of kayak fishing, Spike offers advice and encouragement as Kat faces the roiling water with trepidation. Finally, practically pushing her in front of him, he helps her launch into a lull. With several frantic strokes, she breaks through the surf zone and paddles out to wait for the rest of us. It’s my turn.
It’s been years since I paddled out on a surfboard, but I manage to wake the slumbering instincts and begin to feel the cycle of the swell. The sets are close together, since these waves are all wind driven. But there is a cycle, and after a few minutes of watching and counting, I see my break and push into the wash. My timing looks good, but as I jump into the boat I miss my seat, nearly dumping the whole outfit into the shallows. With cat-like grace (or a lot of luck) I manage to regain my balance and paddle out just as the next wave curls over the bow of my boat. It wasn’t pretty, but I’m still upright.
With varying degrees of success and agility, the remainder of the group makes the launch. I’m sure the folks up on the restaurant patio are having a laugh. I would be, if I were watching. They must think we’re crazy as loons.
This is my second visit down to Mexico’s East Cape to fish for offshore species (tuna, dorado, etc.) from kayaks with BigDog and company. We’re basing out of Rancho Leonero, a small fisherman’s hotel located a couple of hours north of Cabo San Lucas, and in the heart of the East Cape fishing scene. Last time down, in August of 2004, the fishing was slow but the weather was extremely cooperative (besides the oppressive heat).
This year, we’ve chosen to try our luck in October, and things are slightly different from a meteorological perspective. It’s still pretty danged hot, as you would expect just a degree or so above the Tropic of Cancer, but the evenings cool down nicely. The other change is the wind. According to some locals, the winter weather patterns usually come on in early November, heralded by a constant north wind. This year, the wind seems to be coming early, as it was a constant factor in our fishing.
Mid-October is usually prime time for the tuna and dorado fishing as well, but during our visit it seemed that the wind drove the majority of fish south. The cruisers leaving from the local dock were running two to three hours south to get into the fish, much too far for us to go in the kayaks. While the fishing on this trip was definitely more productive for the group than my 2004 visit, it was still slim pickings compared to the reports we’d been hearing earlier in the month. But that’s fishing, right?
So back to the fishing…
Our Friday morning launch marked the fourth day of fishing for myself, Kat, BigDog, and his wife, Peggy. I’d put a couple of dorado in the freezer, and BigDog and Peggy had also tallied a couple. All of us had caught enough needlefish (ladyfish) to fill a warehouse, but beyond the initial fight, they’re not much good for anything.
Rough Landing
An early north wind made the fishing rough during our visit, which in turn made for some "interesting" landings on the beach. Here, BigDog demonstrates the Abandon Ship technique as Spike prepares to catch the boat. |
It was also, by far, the roughest day we’d had yet. The initial plan for the day was for Spike to have us picked up by pangas, then drag the kayaks up the coast a few miles outside of normal paddling range. However, with the rough water the plan was too dangerous, so we ended up paddling most of the way under our own power.
Kat, showing a little more sense than I sometimes give her credit for, packed it in early, asking Spike to pick her up and take her back to the beach. I later heard that she made a classic landing, but wasn’t there to witness it. A couple of the others turned back as well.
The rest of us bore on into the wind, dragging our baits (live sardinias, mullet, and a variety of spoons and jigs). Typically when kayak fishing, you paddle up and drift back. In this wind, however, if you drifted backward you would have a serious struggle to go back where you started. Most of the group simply trolled forward until the leaders felt we’d gone far enough. One by one, they’d set their lines and begin to drift back past me.
I finally stopped paddling, and began to drift. I had just reset my flat line, when the drag started screaming off of my deeper rig. My heart jumped! The rod bent downward and the fish dove straight down. Tuna! It’s the one fish that has eluded me for so long. Nothing else ran like that.
I lifted the rod, and immediately noticed that the drag had been set pretty light. I tightened it a bit, and felt some minor disappointment that my “huge” tuna wasn’t all that big after all. Still, it was a good fight, especially in the pitching kayak, and when the 5lb skipjack came to the side I was pretty happy to bring him aboard. Too bad we weren’t marlin fishing, though, because he was perfect size for a nice big blue.
In the time it took to land the fish, I’d drifted probably 200 yards downwind. I put another bait down and started to paddle back up. That’s when I realized that my paddle was no longer in the boat. I pulled on the paddle leash, and felt a lurch in my stomach when I saw that it had come unfastened. This could be a bad thing.
Mixed Bag
Dave "BigDog" Allen and his wife, Peggy, show off a mixed bag for the day. The East Cape waters offer up a wide variety of species for the angler. |
Fortunately, we had support pangas on the water. I began to wave my arms to attract attention, and soon had another paddle delivered all the way from the beach. In the meantime, I’d caught and released three or four more small skipjacks. May as well make the best of the time on the water, right?
Around 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon, the last of us straggled back up the beach to the hotel. After several spectacular landings, capsizings, and swampings (I actually made a beautiful, clean landing… again, due to pure luck), we regrouped in the bar for margaritas and merriment as we recounted a rough day on the water.
Saturday was the last full day of fishing, and the wind dropped out quite a bit. Several of us landed more dorado, and some folks moved inshore to tally some sierra mackerel and pargo as well.
Kayak fishing can be tough, and may not be for everyone. But for excitement on the water and an enhanced challenge to offshore fishing, it’s hard to beat. Check out http://www.kayakfishing.com for more information about kayak fishing. You can also check out the Rancho Leonero website at http://www.rancholeonero.com.
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