Coastline Pilot
20 February 2009

Chasing the Muse
Catharine Cooper
           

“Teach a man to fish; and you have fed him for a lifetime.”
– Anonymous

I’ve always liked that quote – what it means – to give a person the tools to be self-sufficient.  It resonates with my core belief system. 

And so I went to sea, with the self-assigned task of learning the skills that so many of my friends have already mastered. 

It made good sense – learning to fish.  We had purchased a used fishing boat and spent hours putting her into working order. 
New batteries, pumps, throttle, GPS and a fish finder had been installed.  Steve had worked painstakingly to made ready, “Vida Suerte”, as we had renamed the ship.

Rigo, one of our Mexican friends, had helped us locate the boat, and joined us on her inaugural fishing voyage.  He’s a master fisherman with hook, line & card as are so many locals.  Our poles seem almost cumbersome by comparison, but when pulling in big fish – our dream – a card won’t quite cut it.

Just go fishing! Sounds simple, except that first we had to get the boat to the water.  All the streets in Loreto are under some sort of construction, which meant zig-zagging down narrow cobblestone or dirt roads dragging a trailer.  At the marina, the entrance was closed to set up the parking lot for a fundraiser for the pescadores.  Another u-turn go around, and finally, Steve backed the trailer down the ramp, I started the engine and floated free. 

Neighbor, Al Jourdan (one of my fishing mentors), had left earlier toward San Bruno where he hoped to catch yellowtail.  My mouth watered at that possibility, and we followed him north.  The GPS and the fish finder worked perfectly.  The bait tank, for whatever reason, refused to pump water through the intake.  No problem – we decided to troll with brightly colored lures. 

The day was shimmering.  The coastline starkly beautiful dressed in desert colors and shrubbery. 

A pod of dolphins swam around the boat.  They were probably eating our fish, since nothing at all seemed interested in our lures.  We changed them and continued to troll, but still no luck.

Radio chatter indicated fish were being caught east of Coronodo Island so we changed course and returned south and east.  A group of pongeros with paying fishermen clients and divers drifted on the east side of the small island.  We were gifted some bait in our bucket and changed from trolling to anchored fishing over a small group of rocks. 

Rigo caught the first fish (of course) – he’s local and has years of experience. It was a small parrot fish, and he tossed it back.  He also caught the second fish.  This time, a cabrilla, and good enough for dinner.

The man in Ferre-Mare, the local fishing store, had showed me how to tie on a hook and sinker the day before.  While Steve and Rigo dropped their lines, I carefully set up my own gear.  I even jammed the hook through a piece of bait – in and out twice – and lowered my line over the side. 

The first nibbles successfully stole my bait, but not the third.  I held the line gently in my fingers, and when I felt the first tug, I snapped the pole backward and there it was – a fish on my line! 

Excitedly, I reeled in my own cabrilla and celebrated in my first ‘solo’ catch.  While not the giant yellowtail I had initially hoped for, I was smugly content with my accomplishment.

… Teach a woman to fish …  and she’ll take it home and cook it, too!