DARK DESERT NIGHT AND A SINGLE POINT OF LIGHT

Originally Published in Western Outdoor News the Week of Dec. 22, 2009


One of the nice things about Baja is that even when you are in a relatively large population areas like say, Cabo San Lucas, Loreto, La Paz or even the East Cape, it doesn't take long to be "away from it all."

A short car ride or even a walk and the "wide open" is never that far. If you can steal away at night, the sound of cars is quickly replaced by a desert breeze that sweeps off the sea. The blaze of lights is now a carpet of stars glittering overhead. That "haze" in the air is the Milky Way.

The smell of exhaust diminishes and now the savory smell of someone perhaps roasting some meat over an open fire wafts up. A dog barks in the distance. Homes become mere pinpoints of light in the distance. The darkness carries the unmistakable sound of an old radio playing "banda" music.

And you're all alone as easy as that. No crowds. No rave music. No hawkers.

When I lived on the East Cape, I would get out quite often and walk up into the hills and peer down on the little pueblo of Cabo Pulmo. At the time, not really more than a dirt road trying to decide if it was for cars or cows. One restaurant. One cafe that was sometimes open. Another cafe that never seemed to be open. Two bars. A lot of pickup trucks; a handful of pangas; and a pack of friendly mismatched dogs.

At night, I would hear laughter from the restaurant and the sound of waves off the beach. And a few warming lights beaming from some of the homes, many without glass windows. Away from the lights, endless mountains and desert darkness.

And I would think how blessed I was to be there at that moment. And I would watch the night-time comings and goings from afar in the dark and just savor the solitude.

As it were, I wandered up there one Christmas night and could hear the laughter of kids down below. And it reminded of another story of a cold chilly desert and a family that looked in afar at another village from a distance because there was no room at the inn.

And another child born in the nighttime desert. Beneath these very same stars that were still shining overhead.

From such simple beginnings came the genesis of perhaps the greatest of stories about a child. A child who grew up and preached peace. And who was able to gather a bunch of fishermen and carry that word of peace throughout the world and down through the ages. No matter your faith, the essence is still a wonderful story.

Whether you believe that story or not, I think God has a special place for fishermen. It is said that God does not count your days against you that you get to spend on the water.

If peace is what he preached, then what better place have so many found it than on the water. It brings family and friends together. It connects us to memories of a lifetime.

Fishing is the universal equalizer in that fish and nature show no favorites. It often reminds us of a greater power and magnificence around us whether we fish the blue oceans or the smallest backyard pond. The universe is revealed in that microcosm.

And we get to play like kids again. Laugh and smile. Be silly. It reminds us to be kids at heart. Like another child born in the desert like Baja so long ago. He grew up to be a carpenter but he later worked some great stories with fish and his best friends were fishermen too!

God bless you and your family for a safe and happy Christmas.








Jonathan Roldan is the Baja Editor of Western Outdoor News and his column appears every other week. He can be reached in La Paz at: riplipboy@tailhunter-international.com

PHOTO 1: You never know what's down there when you're fishing the bottom. Stacy Amos holds up a nice pargo mulatto and a cabrilla (seabass).

PHOTO 2: Angela "Don't call me Vicky" Farrell has a knack for big fish. She got this excellent mullet snapper (pargo liso) working the reefs and rocks.

BOTTOM SCRATCHING

Originally published in Western Outdoor News the Week of December 14, 2009

Once Thanksgiving is over, most focus seems to turn towards the bigger holidays approaching much too fast. Fishing takes a distant back seat. It's a "circular" phenomenon. Not as many people go fishing. Anglers think there's not much fish to be caught. Ergo, fewer people go fishing.

But simply because the yellowtail or albacore aren't on the chew off San Diego or the dorado on the East Cape have disappeared, doesn't mean there's no fish. I mean, c'mon, the fish don't cease existence! They have to eat. They have to go somewhere from November to May, right?

Change tactics and focus. Adapt to conditions.

Some of my best Baja fishing took place when no one else was on the water during the winter months. Granted it might have been a little colder and windier. The seas were sometimes a bit rougher than normal, but we almost always caught fish and always had a good time.

When the fish aren't feeding on the top, you have to take the meal down to them. To many anglers, "bottom fishing" is right up there with dragging fingernails across a blackboard. Visions of heavy weights; broomstick rods; and boring hours of cranking up lines from the deep don't sound too exciting.

Frankly, I'm not into it either.

I often get asked about fishing during the winter months and I can see the disappointment in anglers when I have to tell them that their dreams of catching tuna, dorado and other bluewater species aren't very probable during the winter. Their demeanor gets even more sullen when I tell them they'll have to "bottom fish."


But "bottom fishing" in Baja doesn't mean going deep to the bottom of the submarine trenches either. It just means fishing closer to the bottom. In fact, you can do incredibly well in waters less than 100 feet deep and quite often much shallower. Think about it...30 yards of line is not much at all.


But put them out on a boat with relatively lighter tackle, some jigs or some hooks baited with fresh squid or live bait and let them drop down.

The long slender-type jigs like the old chrome diamond-style jigs that drop straight down and don't flutter worked well as did any of those slender jigs (as opposed to the "candy-bar" style you actually cast out as a lure or use to yo-yo fish). The new "razor" style jigs that are very popular from many Japanese and Korean fishing companies are ideal. They don't have to be heavy, but they should be "heavy enough" that they're not drifting away in the current.

Whatever you're using, you need to get down the water column and get near the bottom, whether it's a reef, sand bottom, high spot or top of a seamount. Yes, you'll get hun- up and lose some tackle. But if you don't get hung up now and then, you're not fishing close enough to the bottom.

Hit the bottom, then pull up a few cranks so you're near, but not dragging on the bottom. Then, just raise your rod tip up and down and impart some movement to the jig or live bait. Raise it a few feet then drop it back down a few feet. You don't have to crank the reel. Use the rod to raise and lower the line.

If you're not bit, put the reel into freespool again to "find the bottom." Especially if you're drifting, you may have moved off the spot and you want your hooks close enough to the bottom where the fish are.

You don't want to be too far up the water column. Waters are colder down there. Fish, especially the type that hang near the bottom, don't move around alot either. So you have to bring their food almost right in front of their faces.

Rewards can be outstanding. Big snapper, pargo, seabass (cabrilla), amberjack and big grouper are all hanging down there. Pop on a small live mackeral or even a small bonito or skipjack on heavy tackle and you might even hook a big grouper or giant dog-tooth pargo.

Jonathan Roldan is the Baja Editor and his column appears every other week. He can be reached in La Paz at: riplipboy@tailhunter-international.com