Cape Cod, where the fish are bigger than the men

One day I can tell my nephews, I was there, at Steelwagon Bank, when the Bluefins were plentiful and the poppers were roaring!
I got there with my back still hurting, didn’t bring any rod with me, just my photo equipment (that already is quite a load), and a lot of layers of clothing in my suitcase. In Madrid at the beginning of November was still mild, above 15 Celsius every day, with 20º at midday, but Cape Cod seemed to have a different climate.

With me my friend Mario, the guy you nearly want to have travelling with you all the time. Great fun, good companion, good chatter, excellent fisherman and keen photographer as well. We were supposed to be there in October but a whole week of stormy weather drastically changed our plans and forced us to move our flight to November the 2nd. Lucky us. We ended up with some very nice weather, lots of sunshine and very decent sea conditions.
Domenico Petrarca, with obvious Italian ancestors, picked us up at the Logan airport and drove us to the hotel, very kind of him, he saved us a bit of hassle with the bus, something manageable but a tad tiring after 7 hours flights. On our route we stopped at the Longhorn Steak House and ate the whole thing. The red California wine helped the gastric juices and put us between the sheets at an even faster pace than planned.

Day one of fishing welcomed us with quite a nice swell. Leaving the safe and calm waters of Green harbour made me think of Dramamine kind of day and after half an hour cruise to the bank my stomach stepped into Defcon 3. We had 4 casting candidates on board, plus me and the Captain. So I decided to stay in a safe place, worrying about my stomach more than necessary. Thus, after a while of many casts to some very reluctant Bluefins I grabbed a rod and hopped to the bow. My stomach was already at Defcon 4

One warm up cast and on the second one a fish boiled some 70ft from the boat, at 12hrs. One cast between his eyes, a couple of twitches and bang! I set the hook some three or four times, tried to start a fight and when the “bad-back-bell” rang I had nothing to do but pass the rod to Tom, a very nice guy sharing the boat with us. My stomach by then was at Defcon 5, and roaring its ugly head! I was happy though, I had hooked my tuna and the guys were happy too because they could fight it. Big deal for an old man like me!
Now, the great thing about having somebody fighting a nearly 200lb Bluefin when Capt. Dom (http://coastalcharterssportfishing.com/) is at the helm is that the show that he puts together is already worth the trip. His yells and screams are unique and can be heard probably around the whole of New England, such is his passion for fishing and his great expertise in popping and jigging for Bluefins. Domenico is a great deal of fun, very motivating and always cheering up the crew. No doubt that he is among the best skippers I ever had the pleasure to fish with.
We had no more fish that day, few swirls, followers but no mo takes.

The following day we headed to Boston for a photo tour. The weather was nearly perfect, amazing blue skies, no wind, and reasonably warm. I don’t know how many photos we took but I had an absolute blast. I took my tripod with me and set it on every corner, park, building, tree that I found attractive. If cameras could melt for abuse my D90 would now be like a Dali sculpture.

Second fishing round. Nice weather, nice seas, happy me. On the boat with us a very good friend, Kil Song, who I have never met in person but talked to several times, during the last few years. It was truly like meeting a buddy from college time, and I was truly happy to finally meet him in person. With him Willie, a very nice and polite guy, very much looking forward to his first tête a tête with a Giant. Kil is a very experienced Tuna fisherman, way more than myself, and have already fished Steelwagon ban some 20+ times this season. Even though he was the eldest on board he kicked our ass big time with a magnificent 3 strikes X 2 fish caught, one on jigs and the other on a stickbait. Willie fought a fish that Dom has hooked and Mario, hooked his freight train at the very end of the day and lost it at the leader because the wire of the lure broke, but Dom has the mono in his hands so the fish was ethically caught. We did the Longhorn Steak House thing again, and boy, did we have a good time or what!

After one day of photos in Plymouth, where we had a nice lunch with my friend Peter Johnson of Roberts Lures, the last morning we left…well at night. Crazy Dom picked us up at 04:30, there was ice on the boat and I can promise you that it was freezing. Right at the mouth of the harbour we lost the sensitivity of our faces and after less than 5 miles we had no more sensitivity in our fingers or hands whatsoever. The Tunas seemed to be less active, I’m sure the cold night had something to do with their behaviour and we didn’t manage to raise a single fish to a surface lure. Thus, after a radio call from a friend’s boat, Mario first and myself 4 minutes later both hooked and lots two nice fish. Mario’s broke the braid and mine simply spit the hook. Dom had a further bite too but even though we put the lures on the head of many animals, we ended up with skunked.

The last dinner in our favourite (and only) Japanese restaurant was delicious, and packing things to return home quite sad. We had finally experienced the most amazing popping and jigging that can be done in this planet. The wildest beats, the most challenging hunt you can ever hope for. I’ve been a GT fisherman for years, loved the Cuberas, Amberjack and large Dogtooth Tunas, but none of these fish get ever close to the sheer strength and power of a Bluefin. These things are the Ferrari, IVECO and Boeing of the whole biz. Things will never be the same again.

Can you get back home happy after a dreadful fishing week-end?

Yes, you can. This is my answer to the title of this article. Last week-end, having been released from my duties as a father and husband I picked up the phone and called my friend Fernando in Marbella, to see what the weather was like and if there was a chance to do some jigging in the Straits of Gibraltar. Fernando, probably a saint or at least a man of great patience and a great friend of his friends, told me that the forecast was fantastic and that he would be very happy if I could go and stay with him. I didn't have to think about it for too long, picked up the phone, booked me a hop in the Ave train, and on Friday morning I was at the Atocha station, loaded with luggage, ready to begin my journey to the south.

Atocha, for those who don't know, is one of the most beautiful train station you can find in the world. Inside the huge building you find a gorgeous tropical garden, perfectly taken care of, regularly sprayed with drizzled water or steam to keep the temperature constant. I got to the station almost 45 minutes before the train departure and soon put my hands on the D80 and started taking some pictures. People were looking at me in a funny way, wondering what that guy was doing in those weird position loaded with a quite large suitcase (at least for a week-end) and a long black tube that looked pretty threatening (the rod case). Couldn't care less, I was in my own little world, right behind the viewfinder, trying to awake the photographer in me.

The train trip was relaxing and comfortable. I love trains as much as I started hating airplanes. I spend a good deal of time travelling from one end of the world to the other during the tropical fishing season and I'm getting planephobic, if I'm allowed to say. But trains are different and the AVE (Spanish high speed trains) offers a beauty of a ride. Is fast, quiet, spacious and in less than 3 hours it delivers you to the Malaga station, something that by car takes at least around 5 hours and dimes. During the trip I took some horrible pictures that nobody would ever want to see. Thus, since this is a diary of my week-end I will show them, sorry!

After a quick change to a slower commuter train to Fuengirola where Fernando was waiting for me we headed for the first important stop, the restaurant. We picked a good meat place, in fact we though we would have enough fish during the following days. Lunch was average, the meat OK but not impressive and we resumed our short drive to Marbella. Once we were done with the supermarket shopping for food and drinks for the boat, we unloaded the luggage and the purchase into the Bormar VI, Fernando's beautiful 58ft Hatteras.

This was going to be home for the next two days, and I couldn't be happier. What happened was that once Fernando knew that I was coming, he called our group of closer friends and organized a live aboard trip, where the crew would stay on the boat, for fishing, eating and sleeping. This was a major surprise for me, I wasn't expecting it and I thought was just the perfect plan. Even if the fishing sucked we would have had a hell of a great time, in fact the company couldn't have been better. Imagine yourself stuck for 2 days in a limited space with some of the nicest and funniest guys on earth. The only risk you can run is to die of a heart attack because you laughed too much, but apart from that, nothing could go wrong. Of course I spent some time taking pictures of the port, but there's no need to say it right ? After dinner, only myself and Fernando would sleep on the boat, the other guys were expected to arrive at 06:30 in the morning for the departure. None of their wives allowed them to join us on Friday for an early start, good boys...!

Saturday morning, as sharp as Swiss watch all the guys arrived at the mooring. I had a bad sleep and woke up early to catch the sunrise (too early though...), but we were fast on maneuvers and the boat left Marbella at first light. We cruised at good pace heading to Gibraltar where we could refuel, buy some spirit and depart again towards the fishing grounds.

A good chunk of the morning flew at 18 knots, cruising and cruising until we hit the first spot. At this point I have to tell you that I will talk about the fishing at the very end of this piece, there's no point now. For some strange reason while on a boat I eat like a hyena. Everything edible that was coming from the fridge, was being processed at the speed of light. The massive supermarket purchase was shrinking as fast as it gets and my belly slowly changing shape, into a more rounded one. Yep, more than usual.

In the evening we approached Barbate, our port for the night and we saw an helicopter and a rescue boat working right on the area of Cape Trafalgar, a good chance to use my 200mm. Now, you have to understand that in Barbate there's one of my favourite restaurant ever. I have been there with some Japanese friends a couple of years before, again with Fernando and his boat, and just loved it. El Campero is the name, and if you ever happen in this pretty ugly and not too interesting town, please pay it a visit. The entrees are just fabulous, but my target was pretty clear: Toro sashimi.

Barbate is a major point of Bluefin Tuna processing and harvesting. The Almadrabas (giant fish traps) still catch a good deal of giants before they enter the Mediterranean for the spawning, and the tuna meat is either sent to Japan (the largest part), a bit to the Spanish market and a part is treated locally in form of canned Tuna, smoked etc.

Back to the sashimi, this is made with the most priced part of the Tuna, the belly. For a tray like those they serve at El Campero, in Japan you would pay a fortune, but here hey, ain't cheap but neither is untouchable. Tuna belly was also my choice as main course, this time grilled, and a couple of bottles of Luis Caña, a delicious red wine from La Rioja, killed our thirst. The dinner was a truly joyful moment. Six grown up men behaving like silly teenagers and having pure straight fun. It could have been great even without the wine but it sure helped warming up the atmosphere. Somehow we left the restaurant on foot and got the the boat for a sound sleep but unfortunately the only sound was coming from a club all night long, until 06:00, with painfully ugly music.

The following morning was not so easy to leave the bed and we had quite a slow start. The sun was already high on the horizon and our faces didn't look as good as the previous day, we needed a rush of adrenaline to clean the arteries and get back on track. And adrenaline we had, or at least Fernando had, because one of the engines started heating too much. Fortunately was a minor problem and once fixed we could resume the cruise and the fishing. We made our way back slowly, from spot to spot, looking for finned critters willing to give us a thrill. Once my stomach settled down, I resumed the eating process and most of the guys helped me clearing what was left in the fridge. The day was slow and nothing exciting was taking place so what could we do better than eating and chatting? Well, some sleep wouldn't hurt, in fact between one spot and another people were disappearing downstairs and coming back with wrinkles in their faces. The pillows were being hammered.

We arrived late in the afternoon to Marbella, and while the Atlantic in the Strait was pleasant and flat, the Med welcomed us with a rough face and lots of big waves. No big deal for the large boat, and we moored in the Marbella port safe and sound. It was finally time to say goodbyes and hug the Andalusian friends. I put my camera on a tripod, grabbed two flash and the remote control and shoot some group photos, as a memory of a beautiful week-en. From left to right: Fernando, Victor, Cecilio, Kikin, Juanjo and myself

And the fishing? Well, you can imagine, it sucked. One of the worst week-end ever, this fish you see here below is the only think we landed that was over 100g. Who care, this was one of the best fishing trips of my life. I relaxed, had fun, and enjoyed the company very much.

Muchas gracias chicos.

A Jig & a Wahoo, a recipe for disaster

Yes, I have caught this Wahoo on a jig but I wasn't jigging it, I casted it to a fish which boiled after a sardine

I have never caught a Wahoo on a jig. Never. Not a single one and I have hooked quite few many, probably more than I can count with all of my limb's fingers.

I can be fishing elbow to elbow with two or three fishing buddies, none of them using wire, neither myself. We land on top a pack of hungry 'Hoos, jigs dropping, reels reeling, rods wiggling. One strike, the friend on my left starts fighting a fish, I feel a nibble, maybe not even that and my jig is gone. My friend lands a fish, the hook is on the chin, away from the jaws, damn luck!

Situation nº 2. Me and my friend Mario in El Hierro island, Canary Archipelago. Our skipper finds a pack of hungry Wahoos. I am fishing with a 30 and a 50lb jigging rods, first without wire, then with a small piece. I hook 5 Wahoos in a row while Mario is looking at me in disbelief. I manage to loose each one of them because either they cut me off, snap the line or break the wire, due to a bad haywire twist.

The story doesn't end here.

Ascension island. Wahoo are not a pest but they are there and show up every once in a while. I'm fishing with 4 other guys. 3 of them hook and land a Wahoo without using wire, and when I decide that is my time for a try I put a lighter jig near a school of Bonitos where I saw some Wahoo sniffing around and drop it a bit up current. The small iron hit the water, line start coming off the reel at the usual pace and all of a sudden it is dead. Nothing comes out of the spool anymore. The jig is done, a Wahoo took it probably 5 meters below the surface on my very first specific "Wahoo cast" and cut the mono leader like butter.

I have similar stories at the Maldives, Panama, Costa Rica etc etc. In about one month I will be probably fishing Bermuda, a pretty new spot for jigging, quite an exciting experience. Is full of these toothed critters, and I know that my friends will sure land some. I don't know whether to bring a lot of wire, or a rabbit's leg, is a hard call. Doomed? Maybe, I'll let you know when I come back

Man Uses Barbie Fishing Rod to Make Record Catch

The news is here http://www.happynews.com/news/8222008/man-uses-barbie-fishing-rod-record-catch.htm and I don't have a doubt is true. Sometimes I think we use over priced, over powered and over bulky equipment for our fishing but the truth is, that when you fish in saltwater for large predators there's no much room for Barbie rods.

One of our main goals is to hook, fight, land and release successfully the fish and this can be only done with the right equipment. If you use tackles that are too light you might end up with a line breakage, that leads to a fish running away with the lure in its fangs. If you eventually manage to land it it is very much likely to be worn out by the fight, overstressed and will probably not survive.

One day my daughter will probably ask me for a Barbie rod, I'll be happy to buy it for her, I need somebody in the future to keep this blog and my web going :-)

GT from shore...kid me not!

I have been fishing the tropics for about 20 years now and one of the finest memory I have is the day I landed my first GT from shore. This happened some 3 years ago, faaaaar away from home, in Australia. Thanks to the courtesy of Damon Olsen, the owner of Nomad Sport Fishing (http://www.nomadsportfishing.com.au/), I had the chance to join my friend Bertrand "Frencho" Picarda and a group of "crazy" Japanese to a trip to Kenn reef, in the Coral Sea 300 miles away from the nearest Ozzie beach.

After British Airways had lost both my luggage and rod case, here I am, with my plastic bag full of stuff I had to buy to survive my week offshore, a borrowed popping rod from Bertrand and a borrowed jigging rod from Neil, at Neil's tackle in Brisbane. I had my reels, that was pretty cool, they where in my backpack, and I had my Nikon, in my hand luggage as well.

Late in the afternoon we boarded the Odyssey, the 75ft aluminum mother vessel together with the Japanese friend and off we went for a 36 hours cruise to the lost reef.

During the week of fishing I have seen two of the biggest GT I ever saw, landed by Bertrand and Hippo, one of the Japs. The reef where alive and teeming with life, the GTs huge and the surrounding waters full of Tunas, Wahoo and Sharks. Whenever you saw a feeding frenzy with birds diving all over the place, you would run with the skiff there and have plenty of sashimi in a blink of an eye. Imagine a large reef, so far away from shore where commercial fishing is not only prohibited, but also enforced. During our stay we had few times the airplanes of the Ozzie Navy patrolling the area to see who we where and what where we doing. Magic!

Well, to make a long story short, in the 4 days we spent at Kenn reef I had the time to make friends with Mogi-san, one of the gurus of Japanese jigging, Kenji Konishi, the creator of the Carpenter brand of rods and lures, and learn a trick or two about GT fishing. But it has been the very last day, just before departure, that I saw the light. The skiff dropped us on a strip of sand surrounded by reefs, once shallow but now at high tide plenty of water for the predators to swim in it. We started casting hoping to see a sign of life and I had a Green Jobfish following the stick bait on the second or third cast. A beautifully painted Coral trout followed and after a short struggle I managed to land it. It was then time for a GT to attack my Big Foot stick bait, not a big guy but who damn cares, it was my first GT ever landed from shore and was worth its weight in gold. One of the Japs soon followed and then Kenji landed his as well, you can see in the vertical image. Is hard to try to explain how exciting is to catch one of the strongest and largest predator (thus none of ours were spectacular, fish up to 30kg have been landed from shore) with your feet solidly attached to mother earth. No vessel pulling, no skipper motoring, no drift dragging. Just you, yourself and the critter. Each and everyone doing his best to survive.

I fish too much from boats nowadays but is well sculptured in my mind the memory of each and every fish I have caught from shore. This is where you can see the difference between a man and a kid, I kid you not!

Thanks again Damon and every one in the trip. I had to borrow stuff from many of you and will always be grateful. Hope to see you again soon.

The Bijagos Islands, fisherman's and Photographer's paradise

One of the more pleasant trip I have done lately has been the one at the Bijagos archipelago, in Guinea Bissau. This small African country is blessed with this amazing patch of small islands and mangrove environments that is virtually untouched. The abundance of wildlife and fishing brings here a good deal of tourists, photographers and fishermen from around the world. There is several lodges dedicated to fishing and echo tourism, and we happened to book at the one based in Keré island, run by Laurent Durris, a nice french guy who knows a good deal of African fishing and has brought forward a beautiful job in Bijagos, both for the fishing and the protection of the area.

Yes, this is Keré, a tiny gem in the hearth of the Bijagos

I'm not a bird photographer and I don't even have the right equipment to shoot them. My 18-200 is way too short to dare to take a decent exposure of one of these creatures but here, for one who knows how to use his camera and lenses properly, there are chances of achieving decent results even with a 300mm lens, something that in other places is just out of question. I don't know birds either, ask me about any predator fish and I might also tell you his Latin scientific name but birds are quite unknown to me. Thus, there was some very photogenic animals there, many herons, cranes and the gracious flamingos, that I only had the chance to shoot from quite far when, disturbed by the boat's engine noise they slowly took off for another planet.

This trip has been quite a turning point in my "fishing photographic career", in fact for the first time I think I have dedicated more time, or at least equal time, to fishing and shooting photos, something that in the past was something like 80/20 in favour of fishing. I clearly remember a couple of afternoons and mornings when I left the rod in the boat or in the bungalow, and only carried the D80. Those days we fished from shore, something that gave me way better opportunities to grab some decent images. I didn't have the tripod with me because of the serious weight excess I was already carrying but there was enough light to play with. I'm especially keen in these two images that far from being technically perfect, resume a bit how much life there was around both in the air and the water

One of those afternoon, while my friends were having a good time on a sandbar, working with light surface lures, I wandered around this massive beach in search of something to record in my SD card. All of the sudden a boat arrived, started dropping a net in a half circle until in enough shallow water to allow the fisherman to wade and pull the net closer and closer to the beach. There was not much fish round that area and the harvest was quite poor. I approached the crew and asked them if I could take pictures while they where working and as sometimes happens in such countries, they asked me for money. Well, is pretty unusual that a guy in a swimsuit, in the middle of nowhere carries a wallet with him, and mine was no exception. I told the guys my situation and that the money was at the camp. Somehow they accepted to be photographed and even though the light was between bad and horrible, I shoot some images .

Oh, yes, fishing... I haven't forgot about that but to be honest with you we didn't have a spectacular week, I would say between average and bad maybe. Thus, I enjoyed very much fishing light tackle with my black bass equipment. yes right, I brought my 6'6" 1 1/2oz pole and a small Team Daiwa to match. It was a blast to toss those little plugs or the soft plastics to the aggressive Cuberas, Jacks, or African Pompanos, in fact this is what I have done most of the time and never looked back. Basically this has been everybody strategy, and those who kept throwing big plugs with heavy rods didn't have much luck. Is here that I caught one of my most sought after fish on a soft plastic. The African Pompano is a shy member of the Carangidae family and its distribution is not so wide or abundant. Thus, here at the Bijagos is present in large numbers and not so difficult to catch. He grabbed the plastic right under the boat allowing me to see its take, and started a nice tug-of-war. the rod was so soft that would make severe u turns when the fish was sounding under the boat in order to get himself free, but somehow nothing wrong happened and it posed for a few fish eye shots.

The other guys had good and bad days, nothing spectacular again but if you use the right tackle you can have a ball even with a 2lb fish. the early morning session on the very beach of Keré where nothing short of spectacular. Action everywhere. Minnows jumping (you have seen the photo above) and birds diving. Mackerel, Barracudas and Jacks were partying at the Sardines expenses and this is where the old say came from:"You're more stressed than a Sardine at the Bijagos!"

I don't think I will be able to go back to guinea Bissau this year and this makes a bit sad. I would sure leave at home a couple of rods and a bunch of lures and carry a tripod, my flashes and work a bit harder on the birds stuff. is a beautiful place, quiet, clean, wild and the people is very nice and shy. Laurent does a great job at Keré, even in such a difficult place the logistic marche bien, everything runs as smooth as it gets and if they manage to keep the netting and illegal fishing under control, they will have a lot of work in the future with many tourists and fisherman coming to discover the beauty of such country. I plan to go back, don't know when but I want to put my feet on that clear sand again.

the longest fishing portrait exposure

This is one of my favourite photos. I have taken it long time ago, February 2006 and to be honest with you I'm not even sure I consciously wanted to achieve this look. It was one of those successful "mistakes" that turned into a great image. I was using rear curtain flash sync and program mode, it was before the A, S or M era, I was still struck on P. The camera decided that the right exposure time was 3 seconds and here I go, shoot!
The fish is a Giant African Threadfin, we were hammering them on the mouth of the Iguela Lagoon, in Gabon. The sun was already below the horizon but the blue sky was waiting for my lucky shot. The fisherman is my good friend Mario, a great guy from Gran Canaria and keen photographer himself.