|
Barra de Navidad
by Turk Pipkin
(This story was written as a sidebar
for the Golf Digest story, "A Thousand Miles From Nowhere.")
Whether it's Jack Nicklaus, Greg Norman
or most of the gang you tee it up with, there seems to be some inexplicable
link between the twin passions of golf and fishing. And whether youre
an old pro or a novice, you won't find better salt-water fishing for your
money than on the West Coast of Mexico. Thats why, the day after
playing the new Isla Navidad course in Barra de Navidad, I also made a
point of also checking out the action off-shore.
At first light, with the sky just
glowing orange over the mountains in the east, I met my fishing guide,
Ricardo Colo Amador. I'd brought my own light-weight saltwater
gear, but Colo's twin outboard superpanga was complete with heavy-weight
Penn rods and reels and all the tackle wed need for whatever was
biting. At twenty bucks an hour, thats a heckuva good deal.
Id recently fished with the
El Cid fleet in Mazatlan, where my golf partner and I caught our limits
in ten to forty pound tuna and dorado. But the action was all in blue
water, about 25 miles off-shore, and that meant a round-trip three hour
run just to get to the fish. One of the best things about fishing in Barra
is that there's lots of action close-in.
Ten minutes after leaving the marina
of the Grand Bay Hotel, Colo and I were already tying on feather jigs
and trolling three lines past the rocky outcroppings that protect the
entrance to this historic bay. Within minutes, two of the reels started
to sing a lovely duet called fish on the line, and we had
line-tangling tug of wars with two long, sleek sierra, a fish as tasty
as it is beautiful.
For the next two hours, we trolled
skirts and Rapala lures through the surging foam while schools of sierra
and fat torpedo-like bonita jumped all around us, attacked our lures and
came reluctantly to the boat.
During December, when the clear blue
water moves close to shore, marlin, dorado and sailfish can be caught
here in full view of the town or the golf course. If you do catch a marlin
or sailfish, here or elsewhere, please use catch-and-release fishing practices
whenever possible. The habit of boating and killing billfish or
any other fish youre not going to eat reveals nothing but
the ignorance of the fisherman. You want photos? My favorites are of my
big blue marlin in the water, with a tag inserted into his dorsal
fin just moments before we released him to swim and fight another day.
You want to mount your trophy? All you need is an estimation of his weight
and length. When preparing your trophy, taxidermists no longer use any
part of a real fish. The mounts may look lifelike, but they're still fiberglass.
Bottom line: if youre not going
to eat it, let it go. No fisherman worth his salt does otherwise because
they understand the fragile nature of fish populations. And because our
kids want to fish someday, too.
When the sierra calmed down, Colo
pointed the boat south and trolled along the beach past the golf course.
The goal here was to find the legendary Pez Gallo or roosterfish, an aggressive
fighter with a tall dorsal fin that looks much like a roosters comb.
And though we didnt locate our elusive prey, we did see hundreds
of shore and sea birds and two enormous whales cruising up the coast in
the opposite direction.
Finally, with the wind picking up
and the radio bringing scattered reports of tuna but no marlin, we started
trolling back and exchanging fish stories about the ones that got away.
Back at the Marina, Colo gave the
bonito to some very grateful construction workers who were happy to have
their family dinner in hand. In a flash, he also filleted two of the Sierra
which I took twenty steps to the chef at La Plazuela, the poolside restaurant
at the Grand Bay Hotel.
A quick dip in the pool, a piņa colada
with fresh coconut and pineapple, half a gallon of guacamole and, presto
I was being served my very own fresh fish cooked mojo de ajo with
mucho ajo lots of garlic. Now this is the kind of fishing
I could really get used to.
|