Where: Skykomish River
When: Sunday
Conditions: Overcast, rainy
Flies used: MOAL leech, marabou spey
Species sought: Steelhead
Species caught: A few beat up, nasty pinks. :(

"Let's go anyway."

That was the thought. The four of us had been geared up for spey all week and, river blown out or not, we were gonna get us some SPEY. :)

Practicing the anchor stroke...

Fall's colors painted the river and the weather seemed as if it would stabilize.

The only good part about autumn...

But looks can be deceiving...

Having gotten our fill of practice and our dose of rain, it was time for a late lunch.

"All right, let's go eat Mexican food!"

For some reason, chips & salsa and a good fajita can save any fishing day. ;)

The combination of friends, dreary weather and, of course, the tortillas drove my mind elsewhere. The past summer's memories played in short clips, interspersed between the running spey commentary.

And I realized that I hadn't finished my Baja tale...

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"Lo mas importante es un pez gallo para el."

"Si."

"This is it dude, we're putting the icing on this cake."

Steve smiled.

Yesterday, he caught a marlin. A dream come true.

Today, we would complete his goal.

Pez Gallo.

"That's the one thing I want out of this trip."

I remember him saying that on the first day.

The panga sped toward the most likely spot.

They have to be here!

Unfortunately, Antonio's honey hole didn't produce.

Dang.

After about an hour, we gave up. Our panguero thought dorado might be more cooperative, so we headed out to a few buoys.

I was lucky enough to grab a dorado right off the bat, but just as quickly as it came, our luck died off.

"No mas."

I agreed.

"Podemos pescar para gallos por los demas del dia?"

"Bueno."

Antonio understood our determination--today, it was all about the rooster.

"We didn't come all this way to be disappointed," I said to my boatmate.

Before long, we were in a beautiful lagoon, out of the wind, with interested fish all around.

We let the chum fly.

They came from every direction, gobbling our silver offerings.

"Get 'em, dude!"

I hooked one follower, but had to strip FAST to do so.

Steve stripped like a madman, too.

A miss.

A flash of interest.

A refusal.

More chum.

"Over there!"

A pair of hogs cruised by to crash our little party. We fished them HARD but they weren't playing along. Later, we learned that they were yellowtail, not gallos.

Sweat trickled into my eyes. I blinked, only to have more flood in.

"Where did they go?" I asked myself. "It can't end like this. We were so clo--"

"Yeah, buddy!"

Pez gallo.

It's like they say in "Running Down the Man." "You have to BELIEVE." :)

And all was well.

It was in that moment that I knew I'd be back. I had done everything I had intended to, and more.

In four days, I had caught bonita, skipjack, pargo, snapper, yellowtail, dorado and the feisty roosterfish. Best of all, I shared those catches with friends.

That same time the next day, I also knew I'd be stateside and, in the grand scheme of things, the past five days would be just a collection of photos and some words on the internet.

But in the minor scheme of things, I know that--

Steve's eyes will always twinkle when he hears "pez gallo."

Anil will always smile when he remembers that marlin.

And I'll always shake my head in disbelief thinking about the strength of a skipjack.

And that's lo mas importante. :)

"I don't think I could ever get tired of this," I thought.

This was our third day and other Steve and I were heading out to complete our original mission from yesterday.

We motored toward San Bruno in the hopes of locating some Toros (Jack Crevalle) as well as a few more cabrilla and pargo.

This is what we found!

For the better part of the morning, I couldn't keep roosters off. Thinking the day would be epic, I decided to leave the camera in the bag and really do some fishing.

But just like the dorado on the first day, my judgment would be off.

The rest of day resulted in a ho-hum series of runs here and there and as the sun beat down, my thoughts wandered to our two friends.

"I bet they found what they were looking for," I said to other Steve.

"I hope so."

Oh, I forgot to mention what Steve R. and Anil went fishing for, didn't I?

Marlin! This was Steve's first. Congratulations, Steve! Photo courtesy of Anil and washingtonflyfishing.com

Steve wasn't the only one to score. I believe this is Anil's first, as well. Nice work! Photo courtesy of Anil and washingtonflyfishing.com

Needless to say, a round of margaritas and a good dinner were in order.

And let's not forget the pool! :)

After trading fish stories over tacos and fajitas, we all quickly realized that the next day would be it.

No more Baja.

"Well, I guess there's only one thing left to do, huh, Steve?"

"Yes, there is..."

"Well, we know this spot..."

Next: Baja Day Four: Por Final!

"It was crazy--they just exploded around the bait."

"Uh huh."

My understated response was more for me than them. I couldn't let myself get rattled by the prospect of getting into a dozen pez gallos.

Pez gallo.

"Pez" means fish.

"Gallo?" That means rooster.

Anil related the story of their first day and it went something like this:

"Blah blah blah. Blah blah dorado blah blah. Blah blah blah blah ROOSTER FISH. ROOSTERS blah blah everywhere. Blah and there were tons of them."

I'm pretty sure Steve heard it the same way because as soon as rooster fish entered the conversation his eyes lit up.

"I really want to catch one of those," he said, turning to me.

This was no longer another fish story.

It was a quest.

I took a drag on the cigar and smiled.

Exhaling the thick smoke, I replied with the only answer a fishing buddy should ever offer:

"We will."

But plans change and the gallos took a back seat to marlin.

The other Steve and I were to pair up and scout for more tuna and dorado while Rohrbach and Anil hunted for the big boys.

As the sun came up, I plotted to convince our panguero to find some roosters and ditch the dorado... :)

In clockwork fashion, they showed up like school buses.

To tell yesterday's fish stories.

As luck would have it, Antonio's bait tank was malfunctioning and he had to nix the marlin.

"Then I'll just fish with you today, Jon," Anil said.

"So roosters after all, huh?"

Our answer came in a nod and the panga throttling up.

But just like the night before, plans changed.

Skipjack and bonito porpoised in huge schools around us.

"Casting, casting!" Antonio said as we madly stripped line from our 8 weights.

"Here we go again," I thought.

It's hard to pass up little tuna!

The hook ups came from every direction and while we might have been content to stay, our preoccupation with roosters got the better of us.

Minutes later, Antonio lobbed sardinas into the shallows as we looked on, searching for the telltale explosions.

And there they were.

"Casting, casting!"

My shock & awe entered near the last boil and I stripped like crazy, remembering something that I read in a book years ago about that being a good thing.

It's a good thing I can read! :)

Like the tuna earlier, the pez gallos went on and on.

And the day was still young.

In an attempt to continue our lucky streak, I turned to our panguero.

"Dorado?"

"Si."

I had yet to land a dorado so the idea of catching one, on top of roosters and tuna, held great appeal.

But our luck seemed to peter out until at last, we found a willing and lit up participant.

Like a neon sign...

Whoops! I guess she's not ready yet!

Nope, not yet...

Trifecta!

More tuna, my first dorado AND my first pez gallo.

I guess it only gets better in Mexico. :)

Next: Baja Day Three: Mas!

"Antonio and Luciano will meet you at 6:30 on the beach out back."

The next morning, rods in hand and boat bags slung, we trotted through the sand (okay, maybe I was the only one trotting) to meet our pangueros.

Buenos dias!

I inhaled the humid, tropical air and turned to Steve.

"Here we go..."

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"Whoops, I just lost him."

My first hook up on a dorado and he spat it out.

"Oh well, we have one in the boat."

Steve had landed the first one I'd ever seen up close and it was beautiful.

Shamefully, I was optimistic and passed up the opportunity to photograph it, thinking we'd see more.

The rest of the day would prove me wrong.

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"No tienen hambre." ("They're not hungry.")

"Tsk. Pues, podemos pescar para bonita?" ("Tsk. Can we fish for bonita, then?")

"Simon!"

FYI, tuna, both big and small, are the devil. :)

They are merciless foes that nature has perfectly designed to school you.

Case in point. That's a 10 weight, I believe.

This is what was on the other end. :)

Steve and I had gotten into a large group of skipjack and bonito and were having a ball playing them on our larger rods.

Being the idiot that I am, I turned to my boatmate and said, "I wonder what it'd be like on an 8..."

His response? He reeled in and grabbed his 9.

Soon enough, his new selection was bent to the cork.

"A skipjack?" I wondered.

I soon had my answer.

Bonito!

My turn came minutes later.

The bonito took me out, then took me down. Did I mention he took lots of backing, too? :)

In the 105-degree heat and under a mid-day sun, I short-stroked the little tunny up from the depths. Sweat poured down my face and into my eyes and my palms became slick with perspiration.

Foot by foot it begrudgingly conceded and I finally boated the cause of my impending dehydration.

They're not big, but they're strong!

"Man, I'm beat! It's time for a swim!"

Steve knew about a little white sand beach tucked away on the other side of one of the islands.

It sounded like heaven at the moment.

As it turns out, Luciano wanted to fish around that area and by day's end we were relaxing en la playa.

Not a bad way to end the first day...

Our panguero thought this was as good a place as any to empty the livewell so out the sardinias went and along came...

...our little friend here!

Steve thought it'd be fun to pretend this was Sea World and decided to feed the animals.

While practicing his free throw form! :)

But the show ended as soon as the bait ran out and in the blink of an eye we were back on the porch.

Tuna on an 8 weight and swimming on a white sand beach?

I'd say it was a good day. :)

Next: Baja, Day Two: Pez Gallo!

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have now closed the cabin door..."

"Then let's go already!"

"...all portable electronic devices must be turned off and stowed..."

"Oh jeez," I thought to myself. The anticipation was starting to get to me.

"...please direct your attention to the front of the cabin..."

"Can we just go to Mexico already?"

A short (and yet unbearably long) time later, we were airborne and with the help of a Tylenol PM, I had reverted to a more relaxed, sane form.

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Hours later, we were finally there.

Baja.

"Pasaporte, por favor."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Here you go."

I handed my passport over as I eyed the luggage carousel.

"I hope my stuff made it."

Moments later, I had my answer. And all was good. :)

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I think all of us were shocked when we arrived at the hotel.

"This is La Pinta? Um...OK."

It was more than I had expected--it even had a pool, equipped with an outdoor bar.

I mean, can you imagine coming back from fishing with THIS tempting you each day?

And believe me, I was fully prepared to give in to temptation.

It was vacation time, after all.

But first things first.

"So I guess this is where we rig up for tomorrow, right?"

Anil nodded.

And our luggage exploded.

Reels, rods, flies, hooks, boat bags--everything we brought lay strewn about our back porch.

"Gee, I'm glad someone remembered to tie flies!" ;)

Yet from chaos springs order and before long, we had things squared away.

"Listos!" ("Ready!")

Next: Baja, Day One!

Just got back from Baja, folks.

Here's a quick teaser--day-by-day reports are on the way.

A few words to summarize:

Calor (hot!)

Tacos pescados

Skipjack

Dorado

Pez Gallo

Marlin

Swimming pool

and...

Margarita!

Ummmmm...is my 8 weight supposed to bend like that?

My first dorado!

Pargo are not to be messed with...unless it involves tacos! :)

Pez gallo--or should I say "pez gallito?" :)

Pez manooook! Congrats, Steve, you earned it!

This what I was doing yesterday morning...

Many thanks to Puget Sound Fly Co. for hosting yet another awesome trip!

More to come!

I stared out the window, mulling over the odds.

"Are you fishing tomorrow?"

"I don't think so--it'll probably be windy like this tomorrow. Besides, I have to start getting ready for Mexico."

Mexico, Baja del Sur. Dorado, skipjack, maybe some yellowfin and the slightest chance of a yellowtail. Possibly a billfish of some sort (though they freak me out).

It's a trip I've been waiting for all year and our planning meeting this past week reminded me that I was behind in my own preparations.

"At the very least I have to finish those leaders and tie a few more flies."

I hope these will play...

To add some motivation, I even picked up a copy of Running Down the Man--a film about chasing roosters from the beach in Baja. Not exactly what I'm going to be doing, but the entertainment value alone compensated for the lack in relation. :)

At the end of the day, I had a dozen leaders tied, complete with shock tippets and pre-loaded into their tube, along with the flies you see above. Not too shabby for a start wouldn't you say?

And I still have two weeks left...

Song of the day: "Return to Innocence," Enigma

When you travel thousands of miles and spend thousands of dollars to chase something you can't catch in your back yard, it's easy to lose perspective and forget about everything but your quarry.

That changed today. This was my vacation, after all, and it only made sense to enjoy the other things that the Bahamas had to offer.

Our first adventure only reinforced my desire: a few hours of bluewater fishing with nothing to really show for it got me thinking about how Ibn and Sol had been snorkeling for the past few days. That made me flash back to my childhood and how I used to zip around the beaches in the Philippines looking for shells, sea stars and whatever else I could catch up with.

Snorkeling seemed like a fine idea and before long, we all ended up at Dean's for some immersion therapy. :)

A perfect combination!

After about an hour of that, Ibn and Sol suggested we do the "channel shoot" at Galloway. How could I resist riding the current while fish swim around us?

Looks like the new waterproof camera works!

This brings back memories...

Batteries recharged, it was time to resume our quest. Since we were already there, it seemed only appropriate to chase bones at the nearby flat. And chasing is exactly what we did. For about half an hour, we stalked and cornered a HUGE school that decided to swim right to our feet before freaking out and dashing away.

If I had the sense to take a picture of that spectacle, I would have. But let me ask you this: would you rather have a picture of a hundred bonefish splashing around, or a picture of someone cradling one? :)

Magic hour!

Surprisingly, getting off the flat that night without hooking up didn't bother me. Or maybe it isn't a surprise given the day's events.

With that thought in mind, there was nothing left to do but head to Max's for dinner and...

...watch Sol jam on Max's guitar!

Song of the day: "Here Comes The Rain Again," The Eurythmics

It started as a beautiful day. Why it didn't stay that way is anyone's guess. Maybe it had something to do with the hurricane season being right around the corner.

Errol (I think that's his name), our guide for the day, spotted a large school of bones rooting around near the boat launch and jumped on them right away. Before long, Sol had a fish on. Was this the sign of good things to come?

Hooked up!

Not really.

We spent the day roaming from flat to flat, chasing schools that just kept getting farther and farther away.

Sorry, no fish here...

Onto the next flat, then!

And then we saw it: a huge rain cloud threatening to swallow the backcountry.

Here it comes!

Before we knew it, the deluge was upon us and, ironically, so were the bonefish. They'd have nothing to do with us, unfortunately, despite several great presentations. Maybe they were trying to get out of the rain.

"This sucks!"

So what do you do? Throw up your hands in disgust and stomp away? If this was a road trip to Eastern Washington, maybe. But we were in the Bahamas and good fishing or bad, there's one place where it's always good: The Hot Spot. You probably won't catch a bonefish there, but you will catch a few Kaliks and some killer chicken. :)

It's always good at The Hot Spot!

Song of the Day: "Heroes," David Bowie, performed by The Wallflowers

A long day.

Sol, Ibn, Anil and I started it on Angelo's boat, 12 weights in hand, hoping to scare up a tuna or dorado.

That didn't exactly work out, so off to Galloway we went to hunt for sharks and cudas.

But in the Bahamas, it's easy to get distracted and it's especially easy when bonefish are tooling around right in front of you. Sol caught one of the ghosts (video) while I played around with a stingray (video).

Eventually we got back on track.

Why are we here again?

Ibn casting for sharks.

A few hours in the Bahamian sun can drain you, though, so off to Clarence Town it was to swig Goombay Punch and gorge on guava duff.

Just another day in the Bahamas...

Batteries recharged, we decided that the flat would be a good way to burn the remaining daylight.

Wouldn't you know it, a couple of those bonefish were still in the channel...

Get 'em, Sol!

They weren't willing to play, though, so across the channel and onto the flat we went.

"Wasn't a shark in here earlier?"

Unfortunately, those bones weren't in the mood, either. No biggie, we figured the tarpon would be so we tied on our shock leaders.

It's funny how fishing at night can change the disposition of some fish. For example, snapper are notoriously picky during the day. But at night? Not so much...

Not so tough now, are ya?

"Ummmm...yeah. I ordered a tarpon."

I was sure that we'd get a tarpon in that hole, but snappers were the only fish biting. Well, that and the mosquitoes. After a dozen or so attacks, it was time to pack up and...fish for more tarpon!

Our final destination was the lagoon behind the motel--a truly last-ditch effort. Still pumped for a 'poon, Anil and I changed Sol's "I'm going to go take a shower," stick in the mud attitude to that of a real fisherman. There is great irony in this, however: Anil and I were on a mission to catch a tarpon on this trip and nothing was going to stop us.

Except Sol.

Hey! That was my fish!

After that, there wasn't much to do but head back to the rooms, down a few rum-based mixers, catch some winks and repeat the next day.

A good day?

Every day's good in the Bahamas...

Song of the day: "Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta," Ghetto Boys

I finally had the chance to fish with the fabled Phillip, apparently the head bonefish guide for our group.

Phillip lived up to his reputation and more--he's just as fanatical about fly fishing as any of us are. Put that together with a mostly cooperative weather system and bonefish were plentiful enough to keep the day fun and interesting.

Breakin' in the Pink CLA!

Can't we just stay here?

Working on my tan before the next flat

After a great day of bonefishing, what could be left to do?

MORE bonefishing!

And back to mosquito flat we went. Unfortunately, the bug spray didn't come with us and we paid for that. Or I should say that I paid for it. Let's just say it's hard to play a fish when mosquitoes are treating your face like a buffet. My advice is do what Anil did and ignore the pain. You'll be the one in the photo instead of the guy holding the camera...

The reward for ignoring the pain

You can only take so much, though, and soon the need for bonefish gave way to the need for nourishment. Nourishment in the form of guava duff, to be exact. :)

Song of the day: "Africa," Toto

An uneventful day--today was more practice than anything else.

Still, an uneventful day in the Bahamas is better than the same at work...

Only serious equipment is allowed here. :)

Mangroves grow everywhere out here!

Because this was such an slow day, don't be surprised if I post our third day later this week.

In the meantime, check out the carp report below...