As the plane lifted off, banking and gaining altitude above emerald rain forests, lush jungle-shrouded mountains, and finally over the aquamarine ocean, I already knew I’d be returning. Situated between Panama and Nicaragua in Central America, Costa Rica is near the equator and boasts year-round temperatures hovering around 80 degrees. Some tourists visit for the swimming and sunbathing on beautiful sand beaches or the snorkeling, surfing, and sailing in the temperate blue seas.

Other travelers prefer to hike through the vast rain forest enjoying a wide array of indigenous tropical birds, butterflies, frogs, iguanas, monkeys, and more unique animals. Sportsmen like myself, however, have tunnel vision and are drawn by the planeload to Costa Rica for one reason: the legendary sailfishing.

During my previous visit to Costa Rica in February, I managed to fit two full days of deep-sea fishing into my five-day stay, accounting for three sailfish brought to the boat and two lost in battle. Hardly had my first-ever sail been caught, photographed, and released and I myself was the one hooked. These tough-fighting, high-leaping finned acrobats garbed in shades of neon blue, gold, and silver will make even the most arm-weary angler long for the next strike, the next distinctive billfish brawl. To further pique an angler’s adrenaline level, among the multitude of sailfish teeming Costa Rica’s Pacific coastline are a fair number of blue, black, and striped marlin. So when a long bill appears from the briny blue, slashing at baits and teasers until the hook is set and the fish airborne, identifying the long-line opponent often remains a delightful mystery.

Costa Rica Dreams

Putting some free time during my last visit to good use, I investigated the regional fishing options. It didn’t take long to find out that one charter service garnered high praises from winter residents and visiting fishermen alike. New, large, comfortable boats, top-of-the-line fishing equipment, captains with a minimum of 20 years’ experience and bilingual crews, and a reputation for catching fish when other boats weren’t able to were just a few of the commendations that sent me to the doorstep of Costa Rica Dreams.

Los Suenos is located almost perfectly in the middle of Costa Rica’s Pacific coastline, on the doorstep of phenomenal sailfishing as well as dependable marlin, dorado, tuna, and roosterfish angling. With the recent development of a Marriott resort, an array of upscale condos, and a modern full-service marina, Gerard Aliseo foresaw the need for an all-inclusive multi-boat fishing charter service and Costa Rica Dreams was born. After half an hour chatting with manager Joey Aliseo, reviewing catch records, and viewing photos of available boats and recent trophy fish pictures, I knew who I’d be fishing with when I revisited the area.

This past October I decided on early January for my return to billfish paradise, booked my plane flights, and called Joey at Costa Rica Dreams to charter a boat for three days of fishing. I’ve been a fan of Patsy Cline music all my life, so when Joey said a 35-foot Cabo yacht named Sweet Dreams was available, it seemed prophetic, so I nailed down the reservations. Capt. Tom Colquhoun of Maryland spends six months a year running Sweet Dreams and the other six working an offshore party boat out of Maryland and is known for locating and catching fish regardless of conditions.

Billfish boat captains need to handle their craft like a cowboy handles his horse. With eyes everywhere, hands that work controls and steering without having to think, and directing the crew in Spanish and the anglers fighting a hard running, wildly leaping fish in English.

Any sharp captain can pick out a surface feeding frenzy or spot birds and porpoise working schools of baitfish if they motor nearby, but Tom seems to have a sixth sense of where to actually locate these activities that are sure to draw sailfish, marlin, and dorado to feed. Taking each day’s wind direction, cloud conditions, water color, and wave action into account and locating the most productive spot to hook sailfish when you’re 30 miles from shore in 3,000 feet of water with no landmarks is what differentiates a great captain from a good captain. Let me recount my first day’s fishing, and you’ll see why Captain Tom is one of the great ones.

A mixed bag

As Sweet Dreams cleared the marina breakwater at 7:30 and powered up on plane, my fishing companions for the day and I got acquainted. Jeff and Kim Tice were vacationing from Tempe, Ariz., and had never been offshore fishing before, so when they called C.R. Dreams and learned I was willing to take on a couple of partners, they signed on. Even at a swift, albeit bumpy 25 knots, it would take about an hour and fifteen minutes to reach the spot Tom felt we’d hook some sailfish, so our angling trio enjoyed the tropical sea, a warm breeze, and pleasant conversation.

Suddenly, less than half an hour into our trip, Tom began spouting Spanish from the flying bridge, the boat slowed, and mates Geraldo and Fabianne began running around the aft deck rigging several light rods. Off to our starboard a large tuna trawler was preparing to lay out nets, and a couple of hundred yards in front of us the ocean was boiling like a cauldron. Birds dove and splashed into the churning sea, dozens of porpoise surfed and dove in the turmoil, and spinner dolphin erupted skyward spinning like a top and then diving back into the huge pod of baitfish.

Under the huge ball of bait were the finned predators we were after, perhaps sailfish and marlin, likely some dorado, and surely a mass of 15- to 40-pound yellowfin tuna devouring anything in sight. Our boat had barely reached the outside edge of the turmoil when we were bracketed by porpoise surfing our wake. Leaning over the gunnel we watched the luminescent fish play and cavort mere feet away, and then a shout broke our reverie and the reel of the far outrigger rod whined in protest as a feisty fish stripped out line.

Jeff strapped on a fighting belt at my urging, grabbed the rod from first mate Geraldo, and flipped it into gear. Boat rods are stiff as a broom handle, but once the drag was in play, this one got a bad case of the bends and Jeff had his hands full. A sharp snap as the port downrigger let go and the whir of another rod signaled a second fish was on. Despite her qualms, we got Kim into a fighting belt as well, armed her with a loaded rod, and turned her loose with a bit of coaching from the sidelines. Ten minutes later, two tuna in the 25-pound class were hauled aboard.

We got to make three more trolling passes before the bait dispersed and the action halted. Four fish were hooked and lost, and despite being after sailfish, I even battled one of the two other tuna that were caught. Soon we were at full speed again after our unexpected bonus aquatic show and tuna catch, and by 10 a.m. we were at the hopeful hot spot dragging four plastic-skirted teasers skipping noisily across the sea surface and three sewn-on, weighted ballyhoo baits.

Like a soaring hawk watches for mice, we all kept our eyes peeled and our hearts hopeful to spot a bill slashing at one of our baits. It was our ears, not our eyes, that alerted us to a strike as the squeal of a big Penn reel sounded and, soon after, a brightly colored dorado cartwheeled behind the boat. Dorado, also called dolphin fish or mahi-mahi, are not only appreciated by anglers as great jumpers and fighters but are a much-sought-after delicacy for the table. After a 10-minute sweat-breaking tug of war, the mate pulled Jeff’s 30-pound prize over the transom.

Since it was my turn to man a rod, I strapped on a fighting belt in anticipation and once again began gazing with hope at the bouncing baits and listening for a reel to sound off. I actually saw the sailfish leap at the same time the farthest bait was hit and line sizzled from the reel spool. After another leap and a bit of tail walking, Tom yelled down that my first sailfish of the trip might just be the trophy I’d come back to catch.

In all the big sail jumped six times and breached half out of the water several more times, but finally Geraldo had the shock leader and then grabbed the deadly bill in a gloved hand and wrestled the splashing fish into tranquility. We quickly and carefully hauled the brute on board and cradled him in our arms for a photo and measurements, then slowly released him to fight again. Tom guesstimated the weight at 135 pounds, a bragging-size trophy when most Costa Rica sails run 75 to 100 pounds.

Lest you think that was the high point of the day, let me assure you it was one of many. Jeff fought a nice sailfish for 10 minutes and four jumps before the hook finally pulled out. Our bad luck continued as I hooked my first blue marlin and engaged in a hearty tug of war with two tremendous leaps for nearly 15 minutes. Suddenly the fish was gone, and when I reeled in, the 4/0 circle hook was bent nearly 90 degrees from the shank. After consideration the mates and Tom put the fish around 250 pounds.

Early in the afternoon two rods went off at once. After Jeff and Kim began fighting a pair of high-flying dorado, a third rod was hit. It was a real circus as we ducked under and around each other while the fish ran every which way, but unbelievably we landed all three mahi-mahi and my bull was more than 45 pounds. Still later we got into another surface feeding frenzy and boated some more yellowfin. In all we landed seven tuna, six dorado, and a sailfish, and we lost or raised more than a dozen more fish in only five hours of trolling.

As hard as it is to believe, my second and third days with Capt. Tom on Sweet Dreams were even better, but that’s a story for another time. Prime sailfish months are January through March, a perfect time to get out of the snow and cold of Maine. Check out Costa Rica Dreams at www.CostaRicaDreams.com or telephone 732-901-8625, ext. 46, in the U.S. for further information or to book a boat and captain. Despite achieving my goal of a bragging-size sailfish, I’m still going back to fish with Costa Rica Dreams next year, hopefully to finally land a marlin and to try to catch a sailfish on a fly rod. Perhaps I’ll see you there.

Outdoor feature writer Bill Graves can be reached via e-mail at bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com