Last weekend, in my first article of the New Year, I suggested sportsmen set goals rather than making confining resolutions. In an effort to practice what I preach, I spent several days during the first week of 2008 in the balmy climes of Costa Rica attempting to fulfill two outdoor ambitions on my list for the upcoming year. That I was able to exchange Maine’s frost and snow for Central America’s fishing and sun was just an added benefit.

After last January’s trip to the Los Suenos Resort on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica where I enjoyed catching sailfish, dorado, and tuna, before boarding my plane back to the States, I’d made up my mind to return this year. I harbored a great desire to hook and land a marlin, and I also wanted to catch a sailfish on a fly rod. There are blue, black and striped marlin finning about the offshore waters of Costa Rica, but getting a hook into one and surviving the long, hard fight to boatside is as much good luck as good management.

As for the sailfish on a fly rod, it’s a rare feat and so difficult that few anglers choose to endure the time expenditure and frustration involved. One case in point took place last February when a well known television angler with his own national show on the Outdoor Channel spent four full days beating the Costa Rica coastal waters to a froth before he finally hooked and landed one sailfish on a fly. Regardless of the difficulty, I just had to give it a try, and I couldn’t help but think of my dear old dad’s sage advice when I was growing up and facing a demanding task, “If it was easy, everybody could do it, and then what would it really be worth!”

The quest begins

The first segment of the Los Suenos Signature Billfish Series tournament was to begin on Thursday, and Wednesday was a practice day for almost 50 boats, crews and four-man angling teams from around the world. Despite this being only Saturday, boats are at a premium, and if not for pre-planning a couple of months ahead and the help of Gerard Alesio, the founder and owner of Costa Rica Dreams Sportfishing, my casting efforts may well have been confined to the marina dock. As it was, I boarded Dream I, a 36-foot Luhrs Express, a comfortable, stable craft with all the bells and whistles to locate and catch big fish far off shore and get there and back safe and sound. Alexandre Esmeraldo, executive manager of the Los Suenos Marriott Resort, a devout fishing fanatic and my friend and boat buddy for previous offshore outings, joined me on this first day of my quest.

As the captain and two mates welcomed us aboard at 7:30 a.m. it was already 81 degrees under a sunny, near cloudless sky. We stowed our gear and applied sunscreen as the big boat slowly motored from the marina and past the sea wall, preparing for the long bumpy ride at full speed to our intended trolling range 30 to 35 miles away from the docks. Before the big diesel engine ranged from a purr to a roar as it skipped us across the waves, the first mate related that fishing had been a bit slow the previous week. Few marlin were being boated while many boats were getting tuna, dorado and an occasional wahoo, but no billfish at all.

Not the fishing report I wanted to hear and then dwell on during our nearly 90-minute run to our trolling destination, “the Drop-Off,” but I’ve always been a “lucky” fisherman. Perhaps it’s my persistence, determination and desire. Whatever the reason, I was extremely excited and certain we would boat billfish on the first fishing trip of the New Year. Once on site, the mates set out eight rods as the boat slowed to trolling speed, four were dragging various sizes and shapes of plastic teasers and four were baited with foot-long specially rigged ballyhoo, a favorite snack for big blue billfish.

Teasers are hookless baits that skip and dive across and through the sea’s surface swells attracting gamefish with their flashy colors, flowing tentacles and noisy splashing. Fooled into thinking the teasers are part of a school of bait fish, billfish swoop up from deep below where they’re always cruising in search of food and attack, slashing the baits with their bill to stun their prey on their first pass. They then turn and devour the baits.

When one of the ballyhoo with a hook sewn in is the target, an immediate hookup occurs and the fight is on; this is an easy hookup. When a teaser bait is attacked, the angler must grab a baited rod and guide the ballyhoo in front of the “hot fish” as a substitute prey at the same time the mate pulls the teaser away from the aggressive billfish. This is the original bait-and-switch con, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Exceptional eyesight and smell often alerts the sailfish or marlin to the setup and they simply sink back into the depths to search for another meal ticket.

The more worked up a fish becomes at a teaser, smashing and striking several times while the bait is reeled closer, the more likely a solid take will occur on the ballyhoo. But even then the hookup is a tricky sequence and once hooked, the wild leaps and acrobatic battle often pull the 3/0 circle hook from the jaw. Angler finesse is crucial; once the teaser is replaced with a baitfish, the fisherman waits with his thumb on the spool of 30-pound test monofilament and the reel in free spool. A sturdier rod with larger hooks and heavier line is set up and waiting in case the hungry denizen is a blue, black or striped marlin. They run from 150 to more than 400 pounds, while sailfish average 75 to 100 pounds.

As the fish strikes and turns, line will begin to spool from the reel and a very light tension must be exerted to prevent backlash but not so heavy as to alert the fish to spit the bait. After a slow five-count to allow the bait to be swallowed, the reel tension lever is slowly advanced into the full drag position, the line straightens and flexes, the hook sets into the jaw and a very irate billfish either takes to the air or heads for the other end of the ocean.

To help keep the rod tip pointed toward the fast-fleeing fish, many anglers shun the fighting chair, carrying on the tug of war standing and moving back and forth along the stern transom using only a fighting belt to secure the rod butt. As the captain maneuvers the boat through the waves, forward and reverse at various points during the fray, it takes steady balance to stay upright and on board as the boat bounces one direction and a big fish surges another.

First fish

Once all the rods were in place after our 90 minutes of travel time, the next 90 minutes were consumed by the old watch-and-wait game common to so many outings. Even over the noise of the engine and splash of the hull through the swells, the sharp snap of the left, long outrigger line resounded as a fish struck the bait and jerked the monofilament from its retaining clip. Alexandre and I rushed to the rod holder, but the reel remained silent, no line spooling off to indicate a running fish. When we reeled in, only the head of our bait remained on the hook. Suddenly the captain gave a yell from the spotting tower: “Left short, left short,” and we all saw a huge head and bill slash at the orange teaser dragging from the left short line. Alexandre grabbed the rod, spooling out line to put a real bait in front of the sailfish, and the water erupted as a large open mouth engulfed the ballyhoo.

Twenty minutes of hard-fought give-and-take interspersed with five acrobatic jumps and finally the sail was alongside. Grabbing first the short length of heavy shock leader with gloved hands, and finally the dangerous bill, the mate wrestled a fine 110- to 115-pound sailfish over the port gunnel. Alexandre hefted the tail and posed for a quick photo before the great gamefish was released to fight another day. After hearty handshakes all around and congratulations, the rods were again deployed and we went back to bait-and-wait status.

It was my turn to fight a fish, and to display my confidence, I strapped on my fighting belt as we listened for a reel to whir or a fish to appear in the boat wake. A large flock of sea birds diving on a pod of bait and porpoises leaping clear of the surface as they frolicked and fed alerted us that sailfish might well be cruising under the baitball, so the captain trolled around and through the likely area. Twice, sailfish attacked our baits, first on the starboard short teaser and then right to the port, but the fish refused to respond to the ballyhoo which I offered up.

Chagrinned, I sat back down, but within seconds the reel on the long starboard rod began to squeal. In two steps I hefted the rod, jammed the butt into my belt and flipped the reel into gear, and before my next breath the rod tip doubled over and a neon blue sailfish somersaulted far behind the boat. Sails give a tackle tussle on lightweight gear that’s difficult to describe; they dive deep, they run long, and they leap and greyhound across the surface. Arms ache, back muscles tighten and strain, sweat seeps from every pore. Yet despite it all, the battle seems to play out in breathtakingly slow motion until the fish finally fins alongside the boat, huge blue translucent sail unfurled, and the mate breaks the leader and the big brute slowly swims away.

During the next two hours we had three more sailfish after the short lines and two more long-line strikes, but only two of the beauties were landed. Alexandre fought a rugged 90-pound fish that refused to jump even once, yet ran deep and long for 25 minutes, causing Alex to wonder who was actually the worse for wear. I played give and take with about a 100-pound sail that saved all its jumps for the last five minutes of our siege. My greatest adrenaline surge of the day came midafternoon when a huge blue form suddenly appeared under our string of pink squid teasers on a short line.

It was the blue marlin I so desired, but by the time I got the heavy rod and bait deployed, the brute had simply sunk back into the depths and disappeared for good. I’d be fishing alone the next day since Alex had meetings, a good chance to try out my fly rod for sailfish and perhaps finally fulfill my goal of catching a marlin. Our first day was good, several “lookers” and four sailfish caught, but tune in next Saturday for some odd happenings and further excitement during my two remaining days fishing along the Costa Rica coast.

Costa Rica is often referred to as the poor man’s Hawaii. There’s something to see or experience that will please and entertain every tourist. Sun and white sand beaches; rain forest tours featuring a wide array of unique birds, amphibians and mammals; wonderful fresh seafood and tropical libations with little umbrellas, and of course some of the finest saltwater angling in the world. Check out this Web site: www.costaricadreams.com online for info and wonderful photos or call 732-901-8625(x46) in the U.S. or 011-506-637-8942 direct to Gerard or Aristotle at the CR Dreams office in country to ask questions or to book a boat.

Another site to check is: www.marriott.com. It will allow you to view the Los Suenos Ocean and Golf Resort in all its glory, and then a toll-free call to 1-800-228-9290 in the States or 011-506-630-9000 in Costa Rica to book a room or to seek further information. Join me next weekend for Part II of a really interesting ocean outing.

bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com