Why I Fish

First of all, there’s the water. Los Cabos is perfectly situated in an area where the Pacific Ocean meets the Sea of Cortez, a confluence that provides ideal habitat for the world’s great gamefish.  The union of these warm and cold currents is unique in the world, occurring over a terrain of deep marine canyons and an upwelling of currents that keeps a constant supply of food in circulation.

Water symbolically contains the mystery of the unknown, and, in Los Cabos, despite having some of the finest oceans views in the world and often spending evenings looking over a vast expanse of water at dinner, we really don’t have a lot of information about what’s going on out there. But we know the fish are there, a large population of striped marlin and the larger blues and blacks too, wahoo and tuna, roosterfish, dorado in abundance and sierra. Name a gamefish and there’s a good chance that Cabo has it.

This is a place that attracts serious anglers, including early enthusiasts like Bing Crosby and John Wayne. If you are lucky you can be part of that heritage. John Pentz is a local developer and a serious angler.  He’s created some of the iconic places on the landscape here, like the Shoppes at Palmilla, and is now working on a new luxury boutique hotel to open next year overlooking Monuments Beach.  John had the kind of upbringing that leads to becoming a serious angler, as a young boy hiking and riding with his father deep into California’s high Sierras in search of wild trout.  Those kinds of boyhood memories create a fascination with water, and when John came down to Cabo in 1980 it was a life changing event, staying at the Hotel Cabo San Lucas where he hooked his first marlin, a proverbial game changer.  That fish led to repeat visits and now John lives in the area, overlooking what he considers the finest fishing grounds in the world.  “There is a lot to love about this place,” John says. “I love the climate and the people, and I have to say that, after fishing other places in the world, there is no better place to fish for marlin than Los Cabos.”


Local angler/chef Drew Deckman, of Deckman’s Restaurant in San Jose del Cabo, was looking for a place to combine his highly-evolved culinary skills with his passion for fishing. “Eight years ago I began looking for a place where I could cook at the level I was accustomed as well as have a shot at a billfish 365 days a year.  The fishing in Cabo, when it’s on, is as good as it gets.  We get all the species I want to catch most times of the year.”

And when he catches them, the most desirable eating species, he knows exactly what to do with them, creating plates so inventive, so precisely composed, that you look at the ingredients in a whole new light. “My life has been hook-to-fork for a long time and my kitchens only serve seafood from the Baja peninsula.  I’m not sure there is another place like this on the planet that is so varied and complete in terms of the resource.”

In Los Cabos, a single fish can change your life.  Ask the people over at Picante Sportfishing about that. In 1994 the Picante team entered the Bisbee Black and Blue Marlin Tournament, their first competitive fishing contest, and a 950-pound marlin spotted their lure and took it, something that came as a complete surprise. That fish resulted in a tournament purse in the hundreds of thousands of dollars and a Cabo sportfishing boat valued at about $250,000. Those awards led to the founding of Picante Sportfishing at the Marina in Cabo, now one of Cabo’s most recognizable fishing charters and a Cabo Yachts dealer.  All of that because a fish got hungry one morning during tournament season.

What would an article about fishing be without a fish story?  Michael Aviani, owner/broker of Los Cabos Vacation Rentals first fished the waters off San Jose del Cabo in August of 1985. Captivated by the area, he drove back down later in October of that year and went out with two friends and caught 7 wahoo, 10 dorado and 3 tuna in a panga rented through Victor’s Sportfishing for about $90, splitting it 3 ways.  That was when you could get a hotel room on the beach in San Jose for $18 a night. Michael became such an enthusiast that he was out fishing with a honeymooning couple and made a comment that the fishing was so good in Baja that the fish almost jump into the boat. Not long after that, as if on cue, a 25-pound dorado actually jumped into their boat.


Sometimes people ask me why I fish and I simply tell them that it’s something that can’t be explained, offering only that I have been drawn to it since I was a young boy. It’s a complicated question and it’s too early in the morning here at the Baja Cantina at the Marina to try and explain. I might just as well try to explain why people enjoy watching baseball or don’t like horse racing.

But if I were to try I would tell them about the amazing wild animals that you sometimes see when you are out on the water. The birds and the sea lions, and sometimes whales, but most of all the gamefish in their full iridescent glory, the dorado that flash a brilliant bluish-green and gold in the sun when alive then turn a dull yellow-gray when dead, and the large rays that shoot into the air and do somersaults, coming out of the water to surprise and delight you as you troll offshore near Pedregal. And if you let your eyes go out of focus you can think back in time and realize that you are out on the same waters that Spanish galleons may have sailed on, before there was anything here, save for a few hardy souls who survived by harvesting the waters surrounding the cape.

So you go out to try your luck, and some days the fish will not be there and you will just have an expensive boat ride. But in Cabo there is always a high probability that it will be a good day, fishing with friends and a cooler full of Pacificos, and your senses come up on full alert after you pass El Arco, as you know there may be an opportunity anywhere once you leave the Marina.

We put the trolling rigs out early, and start glassing the water looking for signs of fish. When you are fishing these waters, even though you have sophisticated electronic instruments, you don’t know what is down there until it comes up to investigate your trolled baits. A large fish may suddenly show up behind one of the lures that is darting and jumping at the end of the boat’s prop wash, so you keep your eye fixed there, occasionally looking around for signs of birds.

Just as you settle into the steady lull of the troll a fish comes up behind the boat, hungry and ready to eat.  The captain yells and points to the large dark shape following the boat and you see that it’s a marlin and the head is a deep purple as he rises, the pectoral fins spread wide as he comes to eat, almost like a bird’s wings, as if setting for a landing, the bill toying with a lure that is the size of a small tuna.

Then the action begins as you lurch towards the rod with the lure that the marlin is chasing, and you lower the rod and see his mouth open and your heart is pounding as you see the lure go into his mouth. And then he turns to run and you strike him and he feels the hook and goes airborne in a fantastic display of power or may go greyhounding across the surface, taking line at a furious clip.  And even though the sun is barely up, it is then that you think about your first beer.

You see the line disappear off your reel at an alarming rate and feel something of incredible power pulling it.  You are excited and a little intimidated as the same time, wondering what you have got yourself into now. They say a body in motion tends to stay in motion, and when a 300 pound marlin, a modest-sized blue, is on its first powerful run it can burn most of the line off your reel, and for the next 20 or 40 or 90 minutes you struggle to turn his head and reclaim your line and, in spite of all the expensive heavy gear, the outcome is never certain.

For those who love the pursuit of tackle busting game fish in southern Baja the excitement is a result of going into an unpredictable environment and being hooked to a wild animal, an apex predator with great heart and fighting spirit, being linked to something much stronger than you are, feeling the speed and power and seeing the way the fish light up when they are excited, a color that you could never capture in the finest photograph, and something you would never see if you weren’t able to bring them to the boat where, most likely, they will be admired and then released.

I have spent some time and money in pursuit of the great game fish of Los Cabos.  It’s been said a good fisherman can never starve, but if you really feel the excitement in pursuing the magnificent marlin and their companions off the coast in southern Baja, then you are likely to contribute a good part of your hard-earned wages to the fishing industry here.

But the experience is never really about that, as the profits of sportfishing can’t be measured in currency. You are on your way back to the Marina and a friend, who has also had a good day and who is one of the finest anglers you have ever known, lights a Cuban cigar and reaches into the cooler, pulls out a chilled Pacifico and hands it to you. There is spray coming off the sides of the boat, refracting the sunlight into a rainbow, and as you hold the can, feeling the coldness and weight, it somehow feels like real money.


(i[r].q=i[r].q||[]).push(arguments)},i[r].l=1*new Date();a=s.createElement(o),

ga(‘create’, ‘UA-45347916-1’, ‘auto’);
ga(‘send’, ‘pageview’);