When last we met on these pages I was enjoying the temperate climes of Costa Rica while attempting to accomplish a couple of fishing goals I’d set for the New Year. On day one, Alexandre Esmeraldo, the general manager of Los Suenos Ocean and Golf Resort, joined me again this year on the high seas in quest of sailfish. Of the several breathtakingly colorful billfish that showed an interest in our baits, we hooked five and managed to fight two apiece to the boat. One blue marlin appeared behind our teasers and then disappeared just as suddenly showing no apparent interest, but I did manage to hook and land a moderate-sized 25-pound mahi mahi – not a bad start.

Day two began with an early morning call from Alexandre. With great regret he had to cancel due to an unexpected, important conference call with the resort owners, and I had the boat all to myself. For my second and third days of fishing, Gerard Alesio, founder of Costa Rica Dreams Sport Fishing, had me booked on Dream II, a sleek, stable 32-foot Luhrs Express with most of the comforts of home. Since fly fishing for sailfish is a very demanding and time-consuming enterprise, I decided this would be the perfect opportunity and began to make plans and get my fly gear in order during the hour-plus ride to our offshore fishing grounds.

Unexpected catch

I had barely assembled my Powell 9-foot, 12-weight rod and attached my Billy Pate anti-reverse tarpon reel when the engine growl lessened and the boat began to slow. Since we’d only been under way for 20 minutes, I knew we were nowhere near our destination, but thought perhaps the captain had spotted a school of tuna or dorado. He’d spotted something, but none of us could determine what the odd floating mass was until we got right next to it. There on the surface was a large white Styrofoam float, a mass of blue line and a very large, irritated green turtle.

Long liners are fishing boats that string out miles of line with a baited hook every 5 feet, floats every 25 yards to suspend the line just under the surface and large flagged floats at each end of the string. Aside from the many food fish that get caught, a lot of gamefish get hooked and die as well. In this case, a 100-pound green turtle, an endangered species, had stopped for a free lunch and gotten a 6/0 hook through its lower jaw.

One of the mates grabbed the float and worked the mass of line and tackle to the back of the boat where the second mate opened the fish door in the transom. The poor turtle was so exhausted from struggling, it actually pulled itself onto the back deck and lay there resting. The captain donned a pair of heavy gloves and one mate steadied the reptile while the other manned a set of heavy wire cutters. With one easy snap of its jaws, this big terrapin could easily severe a finger, so everyone was cautious. I knew my place – I grabbed a camera and stayed back out of the way.

Either the turtle was too tired to resist or realized we were trying to help because it simply stayed still and offered no resistance. Carefully the captain grabbed the big head in both hands to hold it steady and the mate cut the barb from the hook, then backed the shank out of the jaw using the pliers. They disentangled all the line, which also happened to have about a 20-pound dorado on the next hook, and gently scooted the turtle back out the fish door. After a few seconds the big green brute seemed to realize it was free, and quietly submerged and finned away. It wasn’t the quarry we had hoped to catch and release, but it felt gratifying to know we had saved a very old and unique animal.

On the fly

To hook a sailfish on a fly requires time, effort and a good deal of luck. Normally, a boat trails eight baits and teasers to entice billfish to the surface, and of course when ballyhoo, a favorite sailfish snack, are presented, hookups are likely. Since fly fishermen must have room for a backcast, this necessitates one of the long downrigger arms not be deployed, so four baits are lost from one side of the boat. Since I’m a righthanded caster, only the left downrigger was deployed with three teasers, cutting by more than half the odds of enticing a billfish into our backwash for a feeding frenzy.

If and when a sailfish does appear, it’s the first mate’s job to keep pulling the teaser away from him, enraging the fish into more violent attacks. Once the teaser of interest is within casting range, the mate jerks it away and the angler casts an 8/0 fly about the size of a robin into the path of the hot sailfish. This is where things become problematic: Hit yourself with the backcast and the huge fly either knocks you out or overboard, misplace the cast and the fish goes away, and even if the presentation is perfect, the look and motion of the fly may be different enough from the teaser to make the sailfish wary and cause it to refuse the feathered bait.

Among all these other hurdles, fish have to be feeding steadily to assure a hookup. We started the day with all eight rods in use and waited more than an hour for a strike, a long-line hookup on a ballyhoo. This 10 a.m. fish was a hot one that leaped nine times before we popped the leader at boatside to release the 90- to 95-pound blue missile. At 11:05, almost a full hour later, a fish struck the right short teaser, then dropped back and ate the right long-line bait. This turned out to be about a 100-pound sailfish that leaped several times far out but dove deep to fight near the boat and nearly wore out my arms and back before we got it on board for a photo and then a safe release. One interested fish per hour just wasn’t worthy of rigging for fly fishing.

Half an hour later another sail showed up in the short-line teasers and I dropped a bait back for a hookup that yielded another gratifying battle with a twin to the first 90-pounder. It was about 20 minutes later that the captain spotted a large flock of sea birds diving and feeding and at least a dozen leaping porpoises joined the fray. Often there are billfish feeding under the pod of bait as well, so we made a pass along the outer edge. Not half way through the run our right long outrigger line snapped free and far back a big blue billfish took to the air. What a fight! Thirteen full water-clearing, acrobatic leaps ensued during our tug of war, as well as a couple of series of lateral greyhound runs and leaps right along the surface swells.

This prize was 110 pounds, at least, and I got a couple of photos as the mate held the fish by the bill. The second mate asked me in broken English if I cared to get another picture or two in the water and I said sure and turned to retrieve my other camera. That’s when I heard the big splash and turned to find the young man in the ocean hanging onto the bill and back fin of my sailfish. I just couldn’t believe my eyes. A quick slash with that sharp bill or a snap of the huge tail could certainly do untold damage, but there he was grinning from ear to ear with his sunglasses still on. I’ve got the photos to prove it since many folks might not believe such folly.

With the birds and porpoise still attacking baitfish nearby, we hauled our hearty mate back aboard and rigged for fly-rod fishing. Having hooked three sails in the last hour upped our chances on a fly.

Twenty minutes later during our second pass near the ball of bait, a yell from the spotting tower drew everyone’s eyes to the left short teaser where a large mouth and long bill made a second slash at the fake bait. Juan began to reel the pink plastic squid closer as I grabbed my rod and made a couple of false casts to feed out line. With as much precision as possible, the mate yanked the teaser away and, miracle of miracles, I plopped my large pink fly within a foot or so of the vacated spot. What I didn’t do was immediately pop the fly across the surface as if it were trying to escape – rookie mistake!

Forward motion of the boat pulled the fly along, but it really needed more action. Nonetheless the sailfish attacked, swinging its bill like a baseball bat, but I just let the fly swim along despite a barrage of mixed Spanish and English directions to add more motion. The fish either lost interest or became suspicious, never showing itself again. I was crestfallen, my disappointment weighed heavily on my heart and mind, but as the captain reminded me, few anglers actually raise a sailfish to a fly on their very first try.

About a half-hour later we had another sail among the short teasers, and the mate and I ran the same bait-and-switch drill. My fly barely hit the water and the fish flailed it with its bill. I popped and jerked the fly over the waves of the boat wake and the sailfish attacked again. I saw the huge jaw clamp over the fly, pointed the rod tip at the fish and waited for tension on the line, and when it happened I set the hook sharply. For the briefest of seconds the fish was on, and then the fly pulled free.

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly elation can turn to dejection. We tried for another hour but the bite was off, so I put up the fly rod and we deployed all the rods and baits one more time. To add insult to injury, within 30 minutes a good-sized blue marlin showed up behind the right short teaser. I grabbed the heavy rod and fed a ballyhoo back to the big blue brute, which he grabbed without hesitation. I counted to five, put the reel in gear and set the hook. In less than 30 seconds I was on top of the world again, and three jumps and two minutes later it all came crashing down as the hook pulled free.

I did catch another sailfish, my sixth of the day, as well as a hefty 37-pound mahi-mahi. As we headed back to the marina, I consoled myself with the idea that there was always tomorrow. As it turned out the next day was a great one. Gerard Alesio, the founder of Costa Rica Dreams Sport Fishing, joined me and brought along his old friend and now my new friend, Dr. Russell Petranto. We had a great day. Despite there being no marlin hooked, we boated eight sailfish and three mahi-mahi and missed at least half a dozen other strikes.

I visit Costa Rica to shed the mantle of winter for a few days and enjoy some dependable and exciting inshore and deep-sea fishing for more than a dozen species. In truth there is great fishing year round regardless if you’re a pro or a novice. Call Costa Rica Dreams Sport Fishing at 732-901-8625 (ext. 46) or 011-506-637-8942 in Costa Rica and ask for Gerard, Aristotle or Danny. They’ll answer your questions, help you book a boat and show you the time of your life in billfish heaven. Check www.costaricadreams.com to see pictures to prove it.

Los Suenos Beach and Golf Resort is right beside the marina and offers fine food and accommodations as well as a wide range of activities for the nonanglers in the family. Visit www.marriott.com or call 1-800-228-9290 or 011-506-630-9000 in Costa Rica to make reservations. Since I missed my marlin again, and after my short but thrilling fly casting efforts for sailfish, it’s fairly plain that I’m going to have to book a return engagement. I’m thinking next January or February; anyone care to join me and trade frigid weather for fast fishing?

bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com