San Carlos Mothership Trip Pt.3 - Tortuga
 

We had motored across the Sea of Cortez after dinner, Thursday night. I've no idea what the passage was like, as I was knocked out in my sleeping bag. I woke in the early morning hours to find us anchored close to the cliffs of Tortuga Island. The sky was clear and billions of stars shown in the darkness. Looking down into the black water was almost like looking at the starry sky. Everywhere, the flashes of bioluminescence lit the choppy surface. Whitecaps flashed all around us and the deck sparkled as waves washed through the scuppers. I fell asleep, watching the myriad stars swinging back and forth. I woke again to the sound of the GPS anchor drag alarm. A quick look off the port side revealed that we were uncomfortably close to the cliffs. Fortunately, the water is deep and there was no concern for running aground. The crew moved us back out farther into the cove.
At dawn's light, we were able to see the island that we would become so familiar with.

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We were in the lee of Tortuga. We anchored in a small, roughly triangular spot where the bulk of the island protected us from the constant wind. You could see the boundaries of our little comfort zone; white caps and a 2-3 foot wind chop marking the edge. This was going to be a little more challenging than what we had at San Pedro. We were all eager to launch and find some big fish. We had heard too many stories of monster grouper, pargo and amberjack and wanted to get out on our kayaks to catch some trophies. I think that everybody had that picture of Menash and his 95# amberjack driving them. We were sure that, if such a fish was to be caught from a kayak, this was the place that it would happen. Most of us launched early, with Mike and Chris staying aboard preparing for a morning dive.

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Conditions were snotty from the start. Getting your gear on the kayak was complicated by the chop and a persistent wind that wanted to push you under the swim step. We found it easier to launch and then run up to the bow, where we had our rods handed down to us one at a time.

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Brad, Adi and Tyler were the most adventurous of the lot. The immediately headed for deeper water to look for the big fish. They struggled for hours with the wind and choppy conditions.

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Seamus was searching the area around our anchorage. He would surface and call over to us with reports of big pargo and grouper. Time after time we would converge on these areas, offering up all manner of bait and lure. No luck. The mornings just didn't produce a bite. It became frustrating, knowing that they were down there, but not getting as much as a nibble.

Corey and Kurt were having better luck in closer to the island. Maybe it was that they could concentrate on fishing, rather than constantly having to work at staying upright.

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From time to time I passed by Kurt and he always seemed to be catching something. It looked like he was throwing plastics in 30-60' feet most of the time.

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I didn't want to get too close to Corey and Kurt for fear that the smell of skunk which clung to my kayak might cause them some bad luck. I worked the shallows with plastics, Gulp and Krocs. No luck. I trolled the 60-90' range with a deep diving MegaBait and a low rigged dead mullet. Still no luck. I worked deeper water with the yo-yo iron and the butterfly jig. Still no luck. Very frustrating, indeed. I headed back to the boat for lunch.
Everybody looked a little haggard. Fighting the wind and chop all morning was really taking it out of us. Diving started to look more inviting. Several of the guys came back with some nice fish. Adi got some trigger fish that Alex expertly turned into ceviche.

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Tyler turned in what proved to be the big fish of the trip; a 12+ lb cabrilla.

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Tyler's cabrilla was bigger than some of the pargo that Seamus had shot.

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The boys were catching some fish as the day progressed; just not the "right kind"

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Oh well; it all tasted good when Alex prepared it.

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After lunch we lost a kayak to the wind. As we were securing yaks to the rail, Todd's Cobra got loose. The wind rapidly pushed the kayak away from the El Duque.

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Todd runs back to the swim step, yelling "somebody give me a rod". I handed him one of mine that had a heavy Kroc rigged. Todd made a perfect cast just over the center of the yak. He started a slow retrieve and snagged the seat with the treble hook.

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We didn't know it at the time, but Todd's free-spirited kayak would cause us more trouble.

The bite picked up significantly as the afternoon progressed. Again, squid was the key. I paddled over to Adi and begged some squid. I had been pluggin' away with the iron and butterfly all afternoon, with no success. I had to catch something, or they might not let my skunk-scented yak back on board. First drop with the squid produced a nice sized trigger. Not the right kind? Who cares...I like ceviche.

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The squid continues to produce.

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The rocky bottom and the propensity of all of these fish to run for cover when hooked meant lots of frayed and cut leaders. At the end of the day I was force to go with a 50# fluorocarbon leader and that still got chewed up. I was coming to the realization that even if we were able to get the big fish to bite, it was going to be difficult to get them out of the rocks.

I was the last one back to the boat again. That "just one more cast" syndrome that I suffer from was flaring up again.
Another beautiful sunset on the water.

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