Living the dream

First Strike!
Chia had booked a boatman, Jose Rufi no, to take us on the 30-minute ride downstream to a very remote beach at the mouth of the river. As we headed down the mangrove-flanked river, Chia pointed out a 12ft saltwater crocodile lying on the mud sunbathing. “There’s no way I’d go swimming here!” I thought.

Before we reached our fishing spot we passed a small fishing village surrounded by brightly coloured boats, and Chia had a story to tell about some of these poor fishermen. He explained: “Some of these guys are heroes in El Salvador because they qualified for FIFA’s 2011 Beach Soccer World Cup. During the competition they overcame Argentina and Italy but were beaten by Russia, the eventual winners. They finished in fourth place and returned home to a hero’s welcome. They usually play soccer on the beach when it’s too rough to go to sea and they play in bare feet with a coconut; they’re really tough guys.”

We were dropped off on a beach inside the river 500 metres from the fishing spot, due to the big Pacifi c swell rolling in. Walking along the sand in bare feet and wearing just shorts and a lightweight shirt is a far cry from having to wear moon boots and thermals on a Suffolk beach - paradise!

We started fishing with big top-water lures weighing 3oz to 4oz and on my third cast I felt a solid thump, the rod arched over and a fish leapt from the sea... a huge snook! An epic battle ensued as I tried to gain control. Another jump was followed by a line-stripping run, and when the fish eventually tired I was able to bring her through the waves and onto the beach. Chia weighed my first black snook on his Boga-grip scales
at 22lb – awesome!

Minutes later Nick was into a snook. It wasn’t as big as mine but it was still a double-figure fish that put up a great fight on light gear.

The area we were fishing was very remote and exposed and the nearest fishing village was two miles away so we had the place to ourselves. Huge tree trunks littered the beach, which were swept there during the torrential rains that had hit Central America a few weeks earlier.

We were changing lures when Chia explained: “The best time for the roosters is either at high tide or dead low. This spot is where the current from the river meets the sea current and the predators attack helpless baitfish that are being swept out to sea. You may get the odd rooster at other times but, having fished here for years, I concentrate on the hot times and as we are right on high tide now, if they are going to show, it will be very soon.”

The words had barely left his mouth when he spotted a rooster fin cutting through the water. We grabbed our gear, ran down the beach and started blasting out lures. Nick and I had two follows that turned away without taking but Chia hooked up and was into a good rooster. I put my rod down and grabbed the camera to catch the action. The fish was quickly landed, unhooked and returned to fi ght another day. Chia cast again and while I still had the camera in hand, another rooster chased his lure and grabbed it. It wasn’t until the images were downloaded that I realised I’d caught this amazing action on camera too.

As the tide dropped, Chia told us that the action would also stop until low water, so we headed back to base for a couple of hours’ siesta before our next attack. The next session was a trip upriver to fish for snook of ‘world record’ proportions, but the torrential rain that had flooded Central America just before we arrived had left the water too coloured for lure fishing. We managed to buy some fresh shrimps from a local family who were fishing from a dugout canoe and catch some small snappers and weird-looking fish that I’d never seen before. Here we got to see another side of the country, where the locals fish from these canoes carved from tree trunks. It’s an amazing sight and they caught far more than we did!

The Water Explodes!
The next morning we were away early, arriving at our fishing spot to see the water exploding with baitfish flying everywhere. Nick and I ran down the beach and started casting, instantly hooking up to battling jack crevalle. This incredible action lasted almost an hour before the jacks moved on and we sat down to recover, hoping that our main target would appear as the tide started to rise. Half an hour after low tide I saw several mullet jumping for their lives, followed by a huge dorsal fin – the roosters were in!

Nick and I started casting for all we were worth and on his second cast his rod slammed over as a fish screamed away with his lure. As the fish got closer to the shore we could see the telltale fin of a rooster but the fight wasn’t over yet... as it turned and ran again. Constant pressure eventually brought the fish into the shallows where Nick grabbed its tail and happily posed for a couple of photos before slipping it back into the ocean.

Now it was my turn. I whacked a big top-water lure out and retrieved as fast as I could. As the lure came over the top of a breaker and surfed down the front of it, a big fin appeared behind it. I kept winding rapidly until... BAM! The rod slammed over and line was ripped off a pretty tight drag. For a couple of minutes it was a case of just hanging on and hoping that the hooks would hold (we used barbless hooks that do less damage to the fish).

I brought the fish into the surf four times and on every occasion it turned around and headed back out to sea before eventually tiring, allowing me to beach it and hold it up for the camera. I was kneeling on the beach holding a 35-pounder, finally achieving my dream of landing a Pacific roosterfish!