| Rocktober was getting into full swing, and we were getting
ready to head south to the
Tropic
Star Lodge in Pinas Bay, Panama. The trip came together as an attempt
to explore the unknown waters of the Malpelo islands, some 300 miles southwest
of the lodge. We were going on a mission to check off all the species that
could be possibly caught, but mainly with the hopes of getting into a brawl
with some big Black Marlin. A group of local Texas anglers were assembled
to crew two different 31’ Bertrams that we would tow out behind our
mothership, the Ventura.
The crews consisted of Scott Andrews, Billy, Gary, Cody, and
Howard (Team Old Farts) and YT, Scott Nelson, Cole, and myself (Team Young
Punks) rounded out by Mike Andrews, Capt Rusty, and Richard to man the Ventura,
and the two toughest mates in Pinas Bay - Junior and Gilbert. Along for the
adventure, the Heldter Skeldter, a 60’ Garlington brought up the rear
of the fleet.
We flew into Panama City.
Panama Canal
We caught a plane to Pinas Bay
Had to hop a ride to the lodge in a panga
Bienvenidos
During our stay at the lodge, we encountered some Jurassic Park sized creatures.
Just before it stuck a dart in his neck
Mothra
This beast was about 10 inches long
We started to get ready to load the mothership up, and they invited
us into the tackle depot to pick our weaponry out. This collection of artillery
would make anyone drop their jaw
The Armory!
Some of the local kayuga fleet, hand carved out of the local trees.
The mothership VENTURA
Getting ready to tie the 31’s on.
Leaving land for awhile…
And just like that, the adventure began. We were loaded down
with snacks and supplies, plenty of water and PANAMA Beer, enough tackle
in any shape or size to catch all the fish in the sea, and a salty crew that
was willing to risk it all to the mercy of the seas and pirates. We set a
course due SW, and trudged onward through 10’ seas and rain squalls,
at a steadily slow pace of 7 knots for a little more than 2 days. The seas
were relentless and would put us to the test while having to recover the
31’s three different times as a rogue wave would bash the little boats
around and break the rigging. There was never a dull moment, but the anticipation
of fishing was quite agonizing and we were wondering if we were even going
to make it in one piece.
By the second morning, we are some 30 miles away from this rock,
a 22 million year old extinct volcano, rising from depths of 14,000 feet.
It’s still too dark to see, but the radar is lighting something up that
is huge, 30 miles ahead. As the sun starts to break an ominous silhouette
in the distance begins to appear on the horizon. Haze and clouds shrouded
it’s outline, resembling a modern day Skull Island.
I had stepped out on the deck to get the photos of first sighting
of Isla Malpelo. A few others were on the deck, when a cry went out below
that everyone knew immediately what it meant.
“THRESHER”
30 yards off the port side, a large thresher shark free jumped
twice and came crashing down with thunderous commotion, as if to welcome
us to the forbidden islands. We were in some of the most heavily shark populated
waters in the world. Legends of Hammerheads in schools that can’t be
counted echoed just below us. A trio of Frigate birds came out to us and
escorted us further into area.
CONTINUE
TO PAGE 2 OF THIS REPORT |
