Bill Cooper
March 2010
The faint smell of saltwater invaded my nostrils as Cpt. Miquel Encalada brought his Mako flats boat up on plane and sped across the mirror smooth waters of Campeche Bay, Mexico. “Welcome, amigo, to the world of Tarpon Bay,” he said through a tanned face full of gleaming white teeth. “Our adventure begins.”
Indeed, I had just begun an adventure for which I had waited a lifetime to experience. Visions of the ‘Silver King’ leaping to the sky filled my mind. For well over 50 years I had only read of these great fish in the pages of Outdoor Life and Saltwater Magazine. Now, I would pen my own story.
The unique baby tarpon destination of Tarpon Bay is located on the western gulf area of the Yucatan Peninsula. Sight fishing is the expectation in 1-to-5-feet of crystal clear water in the UNESCO Los Petenes Biosphere Reserve, which runs some 80 miles from the edge of Campeche City to the border of the Yucatan State. Vast areas of mangroves, turtle grass flats and an uncountable number of channels provide feeding and resting places for back country tarpon. Anxious anglers may fish all day long without casting a fly to the same waters twice.
Cpt. Encalada has spent all of his life on or near the water somewhere in Mexico and Central America. His charming wit and uncanny knowledge of the environment around him soon had me at perfect ease. He had voluntarily explained in our first conversation by e-mail that I was making the trip at the worst possible time of the year to catch tarpon. I insisted we give it a shot regardless of the cool weather and expected windy conditions. I would be teal hunting prior to the fishing trip and hunting had been superb near Sisal in the Yucatan.
After a run of 27 nautical miles in the flats boat, Cpt. Encalada slowed the skiff to a halt. His boat man, Mike xxx, a local man of short stature and Mayan decent, immediately took charge of the craft poling into position for the first fly cast of the day to the massive tangles of the mangrove jungles.
At my request Cpt. Encalda had invited along on the trip his good friend Alberto Avila, an experienced tarpon fisherman. Avila and Encalada would alternate on the bow of the boat casting to cruising tarpon. Because of a tender shoulder, I would limit my flycasting to only two hours or less. However, my time behind the camera proved as rewarding as fishing itself.
Equipped with an 8-weight, 9-foot Sage rod with matching reel, Avila began casting to the mangroves where a freshwater creek entered the bay. Despite Cpt. Encalada’s honesty about the possibilities of fish being few and far between, I fully expected the purple and black Tarpon Toad on Avila’s line to disappear as soon as it hit the water. The incredible wild, seemingly untouched by man beauty of the mangrove wetlands captivated my spirit and I secretly hoped for Avila’s success at landing a baby tarpon.
I questioned Encalada unmercifully as he scouted the waters ahead while Avila made cast after cast to promising looking tarpon lairs. He fielded every question with poise and confidence, no doubt having heard each inquiry hundreds of times from fishermen over the years.
Beginning tarpon fishermen can reasonably expect to cast their flylines 35-to-45-feet and catch fish. However, having the skill to cast 60-feet makes the guide’s job much easier because of the spooky nature of tarpon.
Encalada’s voice crackled with excitement as he chattered in Spanish to Avila and simultaneously pointed to a tarpon which had just rolled to the right. “Cast in front of the line of bubbles,” he instructed Avila with the authority of a Pittsburgh Steelers football coach.
Mike turned the boat perfectly aligning Avila for his next cast. One, two, three false casts and Avila’s Tarpon Toad landed two feet in front of the cruising tarpon. The fish exploded into action, spooked by the fly rather than enticed to strike.
“Tarpon are the wariest fish in the mangroves,” Encalada explained. “That was a perfect cast, but tarpon can be really tough some days.”
Cpt. Encalada continued my tarpon education as Mike poled the boat towards another rolling tarpon. “A falling tide flowing from the mangroves makes for better fishing,” he explained. “And the faster the flow, the better the fishing conditions because more food becomes available with the faster flow.”
“Tarpon, tarpon,” Cpt. Encalada excitedly whispered to Avila. “Cast to one o’clock,” he chattered as he pointed towards a hole in the mangroves. “Perfect. He sees the fly. Strip, strip, strip. Stop. Stop. Strip, strip. He’s chasing. Strip faster!”
My heart pounded heavily as the action unfolded in front of me. A flash of silver charged towards the fly. It missed and streaked for the cover of the mangroves. Our foursome sounded like a ‘choir of anguish’ as we aired grand sighs in unison.
I clearly understood how tarpon fishing gets in the blood so quickly. The adventure contains all the elements of a great drama. Highs, lows, surprises, planned approaches, spooky fish, love, hatred, respect, disdain, admiration and above all a longing desire to return to the hunt in the mangroves over and over.
Cpt. Encalada rotated to the bow. He soon spotted a couple of cruising fish and bowed at the waist as he cast to create a lower profile on the boat. Mike closed the distance to the fish. Encalada false cast numerous times and laid 70 feet of line out perfectly. Well, almost. The water erupted as the line drifted to the surface. Some expletives, which I did not understand, rolled from Encalada’s native tongue. “I overcast them by two feet,” he explained. “The flyline spooked them.”
In the course of moving the flats boat from one area to another, Cpt. Encalada continued my education about the rich and colorful history of the Mayan culture. He pointed out that there are more Mayan ruins in the state of Campeche than any other area of Mexico. However, Campeche is just now beginning to develop their ruins for visitors.
My education about fishing for baby tarpon continued as well. I was all ears. Basic equipment is essential to all anglers and a good guide can save anglers many hours of failure and frustration. Cpt. Encalada patiently explained every aspect of the necessary equipment for flyfishing for baby tarpon.
Encalada spotted several tarpon from 5 to 12 pounds cruising in and out of the mangroves. He quickly tied on a chartreuse Tarpon Toad, gave Mike instructions for boat position and began his false casts. The toad landed perfectly, just a few feet in front of the school of silver fish. The largest fish looked more like 20 pounds to me.
Encalada stripped his line once, twice and the action happened so fast at that moment that it all remains a blur of my fishing memory. I later referred to his actions at the strike as the Tarpon Toad Two Step. As he had instructed me, Encalada set the hook by lowering his rod tip, while simultaneously stripping the line across his left hip and sweeping the rod hard to the right. The swift action appeared as graceful as the moves of a well trained ballerina.
The blue, Sage rod arched heavily and the whir of line burning from the reel echoed in my sunburned ears. “Music of the tarpon symphony,” I thought to myself. The moment of tarpon magic had arrived. The King of the mangroves had entered in grand fashion, a moment burned on my gray matter which I shall never forget.
Encalada ran the boat to one beautiful location after another – islands, freshwater springs bubbling up from the bay bottom, canals, lagoons and beaches. He even graciously allowed me a few moments to cast to barracudas with my Ardent baitcaster, the only reel now made in America. David Gray, the company’s founder had graciously sent a pair of reels with me for testing. The barracuda gave the delightful reels a heavy duty work out, but the handsome reels performed magnificently.
My lifelong dreams had been more than fulfilled. However, my heart still pounds in my dreams when I once again envision the first baby tarpon that charged from under the tangled roots of the mangroves and chased my fly which I stripped rapidly straight towards me. Head to head and face to face with the King. My return to experience the rush once again will, indeed, not be soon enough!
Note: Mexico has experienced tremendous drops in its tourist industry because of flu and drug scares, which have grossly exaggerated by U.S. media. Almost all of the drug problems are centered in northern Mexico. I felt very safe everywhere I traveled in southern Mexico. The people were warm and friendly. I strolled the city streets of Campeche at night, enjoying fine food, live music and entertainment totally relaxed and refreshed from the magical atmosphere that is Mexico. To find out more about baby tarpon fishing, check Cpt. Encalada’s website at: www.campecheflyfishingtarponbay.com.mx. For tourism information about this beautiful Spanish colonial city go to: www.secretario@campechetravel.com.mx. Or e-mail me at: brcooper@dishmail.net.
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