A Day on the Pacific
Today started before sunrise in Cambutal, with that mix of anticipation and sleepiness that only an early fishing day brings. Things got interesting right away with a bit of name confusion among the guides. Between similar names and a language barrier, it took some effort to sort out who was who. In the end our guide was not Robert, but Pio, and the other boat in the group was captained by Oscar. They had some battery issues getting started, but eventually everyone made it off the beach and out toward blue water.
About 15 kilometers offshore, the ocean began to come alive. Birds were working hard, diving and wheeling above the surface—clear signs of tuna feeding below. It felt like the perfect setup. Lines went out, drags were ready, and spirits were high.
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| Heading out in the panga boat |
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I shared the boat with another hotel guest, John, who grew up in Wisconsin but now lives in Emerald Isle, North Carolina—the same little blonde family from Wisconsin we’d noticed earlier at the point. Despite all the promising bird life and the miles covered, our luck just didn’t line up with the bite today. Our only fish to the boat was a jack crevalle. We did hook into one tuna, but it shook the hook before we could bring it close. Meanwhile, to really rub salt into things, Oscar’s boat managed to land fivetuna.
The ride back was long and lumpy, getting rocked around in semi-rough seas off Azuero. Even without coolers full of fish, it was still a full day on the Pacific—sun, spray, near-misses, good company, and stories that will grow with time. Some days you limit out; some days the ocean reminds you who’s in charge. Today was the latter, and that’s all part of the adventure.
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