Tarpon Paradise
On location shoot of Rod and A Rucksack Costa Rica
MT Note - Rod and a Rucksack is a pilot TV series currently being filmed by Gass Productions, featuring Guy Elson. Guy, lives and breathes fishing and below is an account of a recent trip to Costa Rica, to see the trailer click here.
A blurred alarm clock flashed in my peripheral vision warning that it was nearly 5am. I rolled into my clothes and checked that everything that should be, was in my bag for the third time. Some quick goodbyes and then i was out of the door and into a taxi. Boarding my plane at heathrow i arrived in Miami several films later. After pacing the length of Miami Airport for another six hours I finally joined my connecting flight to Costa Rica. On the decent into San jose I could see a sparse scattering of lights twinkling through the forest canopy and clouds pouring out of the volcanic craters that surround San Jose. Another short Taxi ride from the Airport and I arrived at the Casa Ridgeway, the Quaker peace centre in downtown San Jose where i was to spend the night. I had been awake for 23hrs by this point and promptly passed out.
The next day I spent walking around San Jose buying last minute supplies like Deet and sunscreen. That evening I travelled back out to the airport to pick up our camera man Andrew. I was full of nervous energy as the reality of the trip set in. The following morning we boarded the chicken bus to Guapiles and Cariari, the two last outposts of civilization before you reach the jungle. After bribing the bus driver to secure our equipment from potential thieves during the trip we disembarked at Guapiles to be thankfully met by the Lodge Owner Memo who happened to be in town picking up supplies. The unpaved road from Guapiles to the port at Zapote was akin to riding on a washing machine during full spin cycle but the scenery was breathtaking. Giant figs that nested in dense jungle now stood as solitary reminders as the wilderness had retreated either side of the road for ranch land. A snake crossing the road in front of us reared 5ft into the air striking at a passing car before slithering back into the undergrowth. The air was heavy and a breeze was rapidly building. The daylight was banished behind a tidal wave of apocalyptic electric mauve clouds as we arrived in Zapote. Local fishermen where swiftly offloading their catch of prawns as we loaded our lancha. Slowly motoring through the dense jungle on a river hardly twice the width of the boat the wildlife began to reveal itself. Firstly monkeys and a myriad of wild fowl followed by glimpses of river crocodiles and the occasional manatee as we joined the main river. As the embers of our first caribbean sunset began to fail we silently drifted into the Barra Del Colorado which would be our camp for the next 6 Days.
Day One
We rose at 4.30am, had some coffee and made for our boat. Our guide who was conveniently nicknamed Cap (as in captain) was waiting for us and we motored out to the river mouth. Running the boat up the beach we strolled along the surf line casting for snook, but to no avail. Plan B was rapidly put into play and we jumped back into the boat and motored out over the bar of the river in to the ocean. Here we released our bucktail jigs (essentially a large fly with a weighted head) and drifted out into the ocean. Soon the local boats that we had met the previous day unloading prawns at Zapote arrived on mass and we where able to score some fresh fish as bait. The hot bait was an odd slender silvery fish called a machete with a pair of fangs Dracula would be proud of. Without further ado we deployed our baits and immediately jumped a Tarpon. I say jumped rather than hooked because about 90% of our takes resulted in the lures glancing off the Tarpons seemingly hook-proof mouth and indignantly being spat out first jump. By lunchtime I had jumped well in excess of 500lb of Tarpon and without a solid hookup. My only consolation was Cap had also failed to hook any either... we headed in for lunch. Round two proved very similar to the mornings antics with 5 Tarpon jumped and no hookup. As the day drew to an end both rods bent double and the drags hummed as the line payed out. "Hit it... hit it again", Cap spoke little english but was very clear about striking into fish. No jump?.... what does that mean?... well you can be certain that its not a Tarpon. Ten minutes later a pair of beautiful golden Jacks of 15 and 20lb respectively came boat side to conclude our first day fishing at the Barra.
Day Two
I decided to up the anti a little the following day by arranging to meet our guide at 4am to try for snook from the shore again. Blurry eyed we chugged off to the beach where we were met by a sunrise you will only see in the tropics, the horizon was ablaze. We spooked a couple of huge Tarpon in the surf but still no snook so we returned to the bar. No sooner had we wet our lines we jumped a Tarpon, then another and another. By lunchtime between my guide and myself we had jumped nine Tarpon and faithfully each one had thrown the hook. I was perplexed, our camera man was sunburnt like a barbecued chicken breast and we where all famished so headed in for lunch. For the afternoon I decided to change tactics, no more sitting waiting for the takes, i would stand ready to strike. As we reached our mark i cast my lure and assumed the position. I felt a tug and replied with a whiplash inducing strike. A small rather shocked Barracuda came flying to the surface. Another Barracuda and two Catfish later and it felt very much like the the Tarpon knew i had adopted a new approach and had taken precautionary measures. A sudden thud and the ratchet on my reel screamed as i set the hook, but no jump! Ten minutes later a large triple tail of 12lb was released and a smile returned to my face. My rod was almost wrenched from my grip on the next take as a large Tarpon launched skyward in slow motion. I hit it several times until i was sure the hook was set. Forty five minutes later a pristine silver king of 90lb was hauled into the boat for a photo. After returning the fish i looked like Peter Venkman from the film Ghost Buster after he had been slimed, but i couldn't be happier. As i sat down to recuperate my rod jumped into action again. I set the hook and a monster Tarpon jumped to our port side. This was a big fish and an hour long arm-wrestle ensued resulting in us boating a 130lb monster. I was spent but you couldn't wipe the the grin from my face all evening.
That evening Memo, the lodge owner told me that 15 years ago if you hooked a tarpon in the Barra you would only ever get in the head due to the sheer number of sharks that once where found here, unfortunately the chinese demand for sharkfin soup had seen the Barra become almost devoid of all species of shark.
Day Three
In contrast to the previous day the fishing was quite slow. After jumping two tarpon in the morning we ventured offshore in search of pelagic species. As we reached the drop off some big yellowfin tuna broke the surface but they seemed unfocused and almost immediately dispersed. After an hours troll with no takes we headed in.
For the afternoon session i decided to unpack the flyrod. Over lunch i was lucky enough to meet with the Barra's top fly fishing guides who tied me some flies and gave me some pointers, "Strip strike and hit it again and again, when he jumps bow to the king". Armed with this newfound knowledge we headed back out. One cast and then we let the river do the work as we drifted out to sea. Suddenly my fly-line tore north through the water column as a 60kg + tarpon tail-walked eighty foot from the boat. I was ecstatic as i set the hook and began to regain some line.... but something was wrong. I looked down finding to my horror that the gelspun backing had wrapped around the metal spindle of the the handle. A frantic de-knotting session ensued but it was too late. The tarpon embarked upon another series of jumps whilst my reel was jammed. The dreaded crack of my leader echoed across the river mouth and my heart sank. We fished into the evening missing another tarpon on the fly rod as I was reeling in to pack up, I guess that day it just wasn't meant to be!
Day Four
Following my defeat on the fly rod i decided to return to my spinning outfit. It seemed everyone was in agreement that one ounce 7/0 white bucktails where the lure of choice for tarpon here, however the previous day i had been using essentially black colored flies with success. I decided to throw caution to the wind and try a bright red bucktail. At about ten o'clock that morning i struck into a freight train of a tarpon, over seven foot in length and intent on pulling me overboard. After the initial acrobatic routine (apparently common to all tarpon), I was then subjected to two hours of being towed kilometer after kilometer around the river mouth. We did get it boat-side briefly but just shy of reach from the gaff. Its strength was phenomenal and showed no signs of tiring at any stage during the fight. Estimated at 190lb - 200lb in weight my 30lb line was barely able to contain this fish and as he dragged us into open water I lost the advantage of being in shallows of the river mouth. Five minutes later he sounded deep and that was the last we saw of him...bugger!
We caught a few more catfish and jumped another four tarpon with the hook predictably being spat out like a mustard sweet by each fish. I limped back to the lodge, tail between legs and with a saw arm and wounded pride. The next day was our last day and I had to regain some face amongst my fellow fishermen.
Day Five
With fresh determination we headed out for our fifth and final day. Plenty of tarpon where rolling as we reached the river mouth which installed a childish confidence in me. We baited our jigs and began drifting. The first pass produced a missed hit but halfway through our second drift i connected with a very large angry tarpon. He jumped one way and ran the other but my determination was resolute. After a brutal hour long bare knuckle fight the 110lb silver submarine circame and I collapsed in a happy sweaty mess on the deck of the boat. I needed a rest so we decided to head out offshore again to try our luck. Rapalas in position i began to sit down only to find myself recoiling back up to strike one of the two rods being attacked. Cap got his one in first to unveil a sturdy 15lb blackfin tuna. Mine however was still full of beans and took another ten minutes before I landed a 20lb neon colored blackfin. Returning inland for lunch we gave the bar two drifts. I missed another tarpon on the fly and Andrew our camera man was snapped off by a large jack.
Following lunch i asked cap about fishing the lagoons for gapote and snook. He was keen so we motored slightly inland to a series of several idillic forested lagoons. We trolled a small x rap rapala and cast to overhanging bushes. A troop of monkeys followed us inquisitively and toucans called from the forest canopy. Out of the blue the small trolled rapala tore off but Cap, who was facing the wrong way only managed a tentative strike. At last a snook was clearly visible through the glassy tannin stained water thirty yards to your stern before diving out of view leaving our lure hanging 3ft under the waters surface, well you can't catch them all.
As the sun began its decent we silently snaked through several more lagoons soaking up the peaceful solitude of the oasis. That night we made a fire on the beach and pan fried the tuna whilst recounting our experiences from the week over a few beers. There must only be a few places in the world where you can realistically jump in excess of 800lb of tarpon per day and we had just experienced it.... this really was tarpon paradise.
I would like to thank Thomas Schyett and Memo the owner of Tarponland Lodge (www.tarponparadise.com) for their help in arranging this trip and our tackle sponsor Monster Tackle. For anyone who fancies trying their hand at Tarpon fishing I am organizing a return trip to the Barra in September 2009, please contact me at guyelson@hotmail.com for more information.
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