Dave Ferrell's Trip Reports

Wet and Wild in Panama

Although the fishing could have been a lot better, Panama sure offered up some grand adventures. Even getting out of the States wasn't easy. Everyone's flights were right on time, and we all met up in Miami for the trip over. After boarding our flight to Panama, however, things started to get a little funky.

About 30 minutes after taking our seats, the captain's voice cracked over the intercom explaining that one of the crewmen had spotted some sort of hydraulic leak and that they were trying to ascertain its source and whether or not it could be fixed. Now I don't know how familiar you are with the intricacies of aircraft mechanics, but anytime I hear the words "hydraulic leak" my mind immediately races through all the airplane disaster films I've seen, stopping at each reference to an aircraft suffering from this little problem, and let me tell you, none of the outcomes are good. As the captain droned on about how he didn't think they were going to be able to fix it, I'd already leapt up and gathered my things, eager to get off the death trap before they changed their minds and sent us up in piece of crap held together with bailing wire. (It's amazing how your mind races when your butt's on the line!) Luckily for all of us, my worst fears were unrealized; they couldn't fix the leak, and we all filed off to wait for another plane.

All I had to worry about now was catching the connecting charter flights in Panama that would take us to the island of San Jose.

We arrived in Panama City, about 1 1/2 hours late but still with plenty of daylight to make the short hop over to San Jose and the beautiful Hacienda del Mar resort.

As we loaded all of our guests into a twin-engine Otter for the flight, Walker Holcomb and I walked over to the ancient little four-seat Cessna that would be our ride. There wasn't enough room for all of us and our luggage on the Otter, so Holcomb and I volunteered to go over in the belly of the mosquito.

As the Otter roared to the runway and took off, our pilot, who looked like he might have just turned 17, instructed us to throw our bags in the back before folding ourselves up and crawling into the tiny plane. My first impression upon taking my seat was, "Holy crap, this thing is old!" Funky plastic chevrons, like the ones you saw in your dad's early model "oldsmo-buick" adorned the steering yokes, and seats were as dry and dusty as a pile of winter leaves. I swear this thing had to be hull number one!

I gave Walker a worried glance over my shoulder, and he responded with his usual snicker and pull off a bottle of rum he keeps handy for just such occasions. Not feeling too brave myself, I gave him the universal head nod for "gimme some!"

Now, with my belly boiling from the shot of straight, hot, cheap rum, the pilot climbed in beside me and started his preflight checks. Once all the appropriate knobs and chokes were pushed and pulled into their proper positions, the pilot turned the key. Nothing happened. After glancing through his checklist again, the pilot fiddled with the controls and fired her up again. This time the telltale murmurings of a dead battery or starter echoed through the little tin box. After several more attempts, he declared the plane dead. (Not that we would have left with my butt on it anyway; I'd already decided after about the third try that we weren't going to be leaving on this plane even if it did start.)

I spent a few frantic minutes trying to call the rest of our party on the Otter as they flew away, but got nothing. Since our van had left for the terminal, we were now stuck out on the hot blacktop tarmac, sweating as we waited for another bus, wondering where the heck we were going to stay the night and how we were going to get back over to the island in time to go fishing the next day.

Thirty minutes later another bus arrived, and we loaded up and headed for the Marriott. Our driver and the pilot assured us that we could get on another plane the next day before 6 a.m., but I didn't sleep a wink all night, wondering if we'd make it over in time for the first day's fishing. I shouldn't have worried - precisely at 5:00 our pilot picked us up and whisked us to another airport for our short flight to San Jose, and we made it just in time to get our butts kicked in the nastiest rainstorm we've ever encountered at a Marlin U. Even so, I was just happy to be there.

We ended up catching five sails and two blue marlin on Bushwacker with Capt. Skeet Reese, but the other boats didn't do as well. The fish seemed to be stacked up inside the edge, and most of our guys spent the majority of their time out a bit farther in blue water and came up short. Peter Wright's boat ended the trip with three blue marlin bites the last day; however, his students couldn't connect.

I will say that even though the fishing was bit slow for Panama standards, we couldn't have been happier with the resort. The Hacienda del Mar sits in an idyllic spot, and the food and accommodations were first-rate. I'm sure that we'll be back again.

Dave Ferrell

St. Thomas 2009

Good news! I'm sure you'll all be glad to hear that the blue marlin are still busting it up on the North Drop down in St. Thomas. I just returned from a Marlin U session down there, and our two boats experienced some pretty good fishing - even on the dark of the moon. Local wisdom says that the best bite for blues occurs during the week prior to and after the full moon. But after eight years of planning Marlin U trips down to St. Thomas, I can say with certainty that you can get plenty of bites on the dark periods as well.
On our last trip ending July 28, our two boats got 17 blue marlin bites and caught seven. Not the best catch ratio in the world, but one boat was using lures and had some pretty bad luck on the hookups, and even pulled the hooks on a nice 500-pounder about two feet away from the mate's outstretched hand. That boat got more bites but just didn't connect as well as the boat using lures/dead-bait combos with much smaller hooks.
We had a pretty small class this session, and two of our five guys didn't catch one. However, one of our anglers, Simon Arnsby, caught his first blue marlin ever and then proceeded to catch three more for a total of four! You can see Arnsby fighting one of his fish in the photo gallery on this newsletter (he's the little fellow sitting in front of the waterfall).

Dave Ferrell

Costa Rica Session 2 – March 13 – 18, 2009

We just completed another Marlin University down in Costa Rica, and although the fishing proved a bit better than our last trip, we seemed to hit Carrillo in between bites again. We spent our first two fishing days in some real pretty, clear blue water, with temperatures in the low 80s and rips and currents galore. Everything looked perfect, but we couldn't find any bait. Usually, boats here find baits schools down deep with their sounders and work the immediate area until predators drive them to the surface. Unfortunately, during our last two trips, the scarcity of bait meant few bites for our clients.
Things started looking up over the last two days, however, with two of our boats getting 10 shots at billfish, some stripes and mostly sails. However, one of the boat's caught a 400-pound blue on 30-pound during the week, and since it marked the angler's first blue marlin, it was quite a thrill for everyone on board.
We had a huge class this time -- 20 anglers and three guests - so the pressure was on to get everyone a fish. Although we didn't reach that goal, we did get quite a few people their first billfish release, and that gives us great excitement. Cherilyn Deary got the trip as a Christmas present from her husband after she handed him a copy of Marlin magazine and hinted that she wanted to go someday. I'm sure glad he took the hint.
I got to fish with the Dearys on our third day, and Cherilyn still hadn't caught one. As I went through our hookup drill, she told me she was having a great time and what a dream come true the trip was turning out to be, which really got me fired up to catch her one.
After about 20 minutes, a fish came up on the right short of Cherilyn's rod, and she quickly jumped to the rod and got in the ready position. As the fish came in to attack the teaser again and again, she kept her eyes on the bait as instructed. As soon as the teaser left the water, the fish spun around in a perfect switch and ate her bait going away. She fed the fish perfectly, pushed the drag up to strike and started winding. As soon as the fish started pulling drag, I told her to lift the tip a little, and she was on! The fish left the water right off the transom after it felt the pull, giving Cherilyn quite a show. As she squealed in excitement, I couldn't help but let out a whoop or two myself.
After seeing countless sailfish and marlin brought alongside for a release, sometimes you forget just how special this experience is for most folks. I'd like to thank Cherilyn, and all of our less experienced Marlin U students, for reminding me how lucky I am to get to enjoy the sport of billfishing and for letting me share in the joy of their first billfish capture and release. It's an honor I do not take lightly.

Dave Ferrell

A Successful Costa Rica Trip

I just recently returned from a very successful Marlin University down in Playa Carrillo, Costa Rica. The fishing was pretty darn good -- we saw a marlin every day on our boat, the world-famous record setter, The Hooker, with Captain Trevor Cockle. We even caught three blue ones on the last day ... and still lost the mini-tournament! (I had made the mistake of counting released sails at 100 points and all marlin at 200. The crew on Wet Ass II scored two blues and two sails to take first place on time! Trevor never let me hear the end of it.)

After the students left, my wife came down to join me for a little R & R.

Capt. Sonny Kocsis on Wet Ass II volunteered to take us fishing for a couple of days -- no charge (Thanks, Sonny!) -- and we readily accepted.

The first fish of the day came up on the left long and eagerly got up to catch the sail. (I'd been watching and teaching other people how to do it for four straight days and really wanted to get in on the action myself!) The fish ate; I dropped it back; and he was on - a perfect hookup. It was too easy. Just as I hooked my fish, a striped marlin swarmed into the spread and our guest angler. Sonny's brother-in-law, Rolando, hooked the fish. Of course, we started charging off in reverse after the stripey -- he was closest and a marlin no less, so that's the one we wanted to catch first.

The stripey streaked off in the opposite direction of the sail, and line melted off my spool as we chased down the marlin. It took a good five or six minutes to catch up with the greyhounding fish, and by the time we got a release, my sailfish was jumping over a half-mile away! The circle hook hung in there, though and I finally got a release after reeling in several hundred yards of 30-pound. Joy.

I then proceeded to go on a five-swing losing streak. The next two sails came up and ate perfectly; I dropped back five seconds with the line falling off the tip perfectly, smooth as a baby's backside. But the fish were slicker. When I lifted the drag lever to strike and started to wind ... nothing.

After missing the second fish, I decided to let the next one eat a little bit longer. Sure enough, another fish came up and ate the shotgun bait (I know he ate it because I saw it), and I really let this one chew!

After about five seconds, the fish raced off like a rocket on me and I let the damn reel backlash. But I calmly told the captain what was happening and started reeling immediately after pushing up the drag to get some line on the spool and wind over the mess. That worked great, and when the line came tight, the hook pulled. Or so I thought. I reeled in the rig and found an open swivel. The mate then told me I was feeding them too long.

In the meantime, our first-time angler was hauling back on the circle hooks, pumping the rod the like a madman and hooking everything.

The following day the fourth and fifth fish just kept my streak, and the jokes, flowing. During the two days I heard several comments about my need to attend the next Marlin U. Ha Ha! Very funny.

The truth is I wouldn't have done a thing differently on any of the fish that I missed -- except for the backlash incident. The whole scenario just proved the point that we hammer into every student -- you try to do the same thing every time, smoothly and in a timely manner. Let the fish take the bait without knowing you are there and set up easy on him. He will either be there or he won't.

It sure sucks when he isn't.

Dave Ferrell

POSTED BY MarlinEdit AT 10:13

Costa Rica Goes Well!

I just arrived back home after a great first session of Marlin University in beautiful Guanamar, Costa Rica. The fish showed up in sufficient numbers to get everyone at least a couple of shots, and everyone caught a billfish on the trip.

However, our first snag sprang up on the bus ride from Liberia to Guanamar, normally a two-hour drive. Upon entering the small village of Nicoya, we found ourselves stuck behind 200 to 300 cowboys on horseback! We hit the tart of a huge cowboy festival, and it took a good half-hour to break through. The anglers got to see a little bit of rural Costa Rican culture, though, so it turned into a mixed blessing.

I rode for four days on Family and Friends, with Capt. Mike Canino at the helm. We tore up our four-boat fleet the entire trip: 11 for 12 the first day, seven for 16 the second and 11 for 1 million on the third!

On the last day, however, Guanamar's famed marlin bite kicked in, and two of our four boats caught two or more marlin. Mark, Jeff and Jeff caught three blues (each got their first blue ever) and four sails on the final day on Ashley Nicole. And on Abracadabra, the Jones' boys out of Texas caught two striped marlin and four sails.

All of the fellows really enjoyed the first-class vittles served up at the Hotel Guanamar, and all were good sports regarding the rustic yet charming accommodations. I can tell you one thing: All the boys know that they went somewhere different. Our next trip is right back to the same spot -- March 10-15, and we are already sold out.

Dave Ferrell

POSTED BY MarlinEdit AT 11:51

It’s a Wrap

You’ll never see a more surprised look on someone’s face than when they ask you how your recent trip to Australia went, and you reply, “It sucked.” I didn’t realize it before, but it’s a real mind-boggler. The questioner’s glowing happy countenance instantly runs the gamut from amazement to confusion in mere seconds. “It just can’t be,” they stammer. How could you travel all the way around the world to fish on the Great Barrier Reef and not have a good trip? Well, you can . at least on the fishing end.

Don’t get me wrong - if I had to climb back on that plane and endure the 24 hours of flying time to get back to Cairns, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Heck, I’d probably do it just for the noodle houses alone! But sometimes even the best-laid plans hit a snafu . or two.

The 2008 Australian Session of Marlin University started out as a particularly exciting one for me. One of my buddies here at the magazine got to join the group as a sales bonus, and a lot of the students were repeat customers whom I’ve grown to know quite well over the years - Tom Irizarry, Richard Creed and Robin Day, to name just a few. I couldn’t wait to get over there and see my friends hooked up and fighting grander black marlin.

Things started out as smooth as a sow’s ear. Mercifully, on my flight from Los Angeles to Sydney, the crew bumped me from a horrendous seat due to another passenger’s inability to clear an exit row and presented me with the Holy Grail of overseas coach flights: the empty three-seat row! When the steward showed me to my seat, a joyous laugh almost burst from my lips, but I quickly realized I wasn’t the only one pining for some extra elbow room and that I should lay low until the doors closed. After what felt like hours, the doors finally shut, and I immediately began spreading out every item I carried over the empty seats beside me to mark my territory.

Just then, a stern-faced female flight attendant stood right over my seat and announced to the entire tube of crushed humanity that there were some extra seats available if anyone wanted to move. An unholy hatred I’ve never felt before immediately overwhelmed my entire being, and it was all I could do not to peg her right between the eyes with my complimentary toothbrush. Luckily, my new nemesis failed in her bid to fill the remaining seats, and I enjoyed one of the most restful flights ever on my way across the big pond, stretched out like a turtle on a log the entire 14-hour flight to Brisbane.

The first clue that the fishing might end up a little dicey started about a week before the class left for Australia. Nobody we talked to in Cairns had anything good to say about the fishing. Some boats were picking at them pretty good, but overall everyone seemed to be toughing out a pretty slow bite.

It didn’t get any better. I arrived a couple of days early to scout out the hotel ahead of the group and get in some barramundi fishing. I set up a trip the day before the students came down and got up bright and early for my big treat to myself and to meet the captain. He never showed.

Unfortunately, the black marlin on the reef took their cue from the disappearing charter captain and failed to make an appearance as well. Our three boats only caught three marlin (two blacks and one blue) in five days of fishing.

I have to give credit to our students, however, because even though the fishing was slower than island time, each man hit the water every day with a smile on his face. And they were still smiling when we left - a miracle since we almost starved them half to death by feeding them ham-and-cucumber wraps every day for lunch. Sorry, fellas!

Dave Ferrell

POSTED BY MarlinEdit AT 01:42

Aussie Marlin U Session Dicey From the Outset

A cyclone named Goober, Ganga or some other such nonsense (could never make it out over the radio) made the first two days of the Great Barrier Reef session of Marlin U a bit on the hairy side. Ten to 15-foot seas tossed the game boats around quite a bit, but the intermittent rain and grey skies made up for it...ha. In short, we thought we were in for a busted trip. Any increase in wind would have made the fishing unsafe and we about a hair away from canceling a couple of fishing days. But our captains, Peter Wright, Hayden Bell and Darrin "Biggles" Hayden, decided to make a run for it to the south and ended up saving the trip for us.

Even in the mountainous seas rolling through the first day, two of the boats; the Release with Capt. Bell and the Allure with Capt. Biggsy, managed to catch one each.

On Day Two, the weather actually intensified as the storm wobbled around to our north. Allure caught another little one and we all decided to get the heck out of dodge and move south. Peter lost two nice ones, however, so the fishing wasn't that bad even in the all the slop.

After a nasty, rainy run down the inside of the reef, we popped out down closer to Cairns and found the seas a much more fishable 6 to 8. We caught two blacks that day on the Release weighing 200 and 400 pounds, the Allure added another to their total and Wright's Sea Baby finally got the hooks to stick and got on the board with their first. The sun even popped out for a few seconds so everyone felt much better about our prospects over the last two days.

Day four turned out to be the day of the giants on this trip with angler Chris Pepin hooking and releasing a fish that the crew on the Allure says was well over 1,000 pounds. Robin Day, one of the four Canadian fellows on the trip, also hooked and released a monster - Wright called the fish "900-plus." The video and stills of Bo Jenyns and Brandon Jackson on the wire with both of these fish thrilled everyone that night back on the Nomad. On the Release we had something to celebrate as well, we went three for three on our bites and caught several anglers their first black marlin ever.

Day four was our miniature tourney day, and although the seas didn't pick up any, the rain came in intermittent sheets. Sea Baby caught the first fish on Linden Bank, taking the lead and the coveted first-fish position that gave them an advantage on time. We had nice one come up early that morning and finally caught one for Spencer Allen, our 19-year wild man from Delaware. But we weren't through yet.

About 3 o'clock a huge explosion of white water took the place of the 30-pound scaly mackerel we had swimming on the left rigger - you could drive a truck into the resulting hole.

As our angler Paul "Paulie" Rowen heaved the rod out of the covering board and into the chair, our mate, Martin Bates, started reeling in the swimming scad. Just as the scad started skipping across the wake, a 500-pounder piled onto the bait, almost jerking the rod out of the mate's hand. "We've got another one on here Heyden," grunted Bates as he headed for the rod holder on the left.

Since there was no way Spencer could stand up with the 130, we opted to fight the 500-pounder from the covering board, hoping to get a quick release or break it off so we could chase down the monster.

Of course, both fish took off in opposite directions.

"This is not good," Hayden growled down from the tower, "we're going after the little one...get ready to wind Spenca'!"

The seas were still 4 to 6 and we started reversing quickly downsea on Spencer's fish.

"Wyonde, wyonde, wyonde..." chanted Hayden in his gravely Aussie accent. The fish came up jumping and Martin got his hands on the 600-pound leader but had to dump it when the fish started jumping hard away.

"Come on Martin help him out...quit ******-around," screamed Hayden, "I wanted you to break that thing off not dance with it!"

Yeah right. Nobody else blamed him for letting go.

We soon caught him again and got the tag in him for an unofficial release that didn't count in our little tourney. But now we needed to chase down the fatty.

Rowen told me early on in the trip that he wanted to catch a big one and now he had his chance. The "wyonde, wyonde" chat started again as we slowly backed up-sea following the long belly of line. Not more than five minutes later, the big girl came up behind the boat, shaking her huge head back and forth, slicing the water with a bill the size of a baseball bat.

We backed right up to her and when Kiwi Dean gave the leader a tug, out popped the hook. Martin put a tag in her and she was away - none the worse for wear. That second release (third for the day) gave us the win in our mini-tournament and made and excellent ending to a trip that looked pretty sketchy at the start.

I would like to personally thank all the participants who made the trip for coming and having the dogged determination to make something good out something that looked so bad. We had a great group of fellas and I think that it was their good spirits that kept the cyclone at bay.

In the end we a caught 17 black marlin, two over 900 and one we called a grander. Every student that fished caught at least one black marlin...it doesn't get any better than that.

Dave Ferrell

POSTED BY MarlinEdit AT 03:41

Marlin U. St. Thomas

I Just recently returned from a Marlin University Session in St.Thomas and had a great time with a fine group of fellas ... And this year the blue marlin decided to show up! It wasn't a stellar bite but it was good enough to get everybody a blue except for one guy ... And he had plenty of shots at it. (Sorry Jonathon!)

This year we fished with Red Bailey on the Abigail III, Eddie Morrison on the Marlin Prince and Hans Kraaz on the beautiful Bayliss, Vintage. Since I was trying to take some pictures, I rode along the Vintage to stay a bit drier, but Hans only had one mate and was running six teasers, so I got to play in the cockpit next to Alberto Sanchez for four days.

I got to tease a nice one up for bite and even suffered a snap-swivel wound to my left knuckle when a swivel came apart while Sanchez was wiring one of the two 450-to-500-pounders we caught on the trip. I reached out to cut the line and POW, the broken swivel came back and sliced a chunk out of my knuckle ... Better there than in the eye.

Red Bailey came out on top for the week, catching five blues in three days pulling lures at 8 knots. We had three good bites on the last day but we had a couple of angler errors -- not enough dropback, and a huge backlash -- that worked against us. But we saw some great bites and caught a few ...

What could be better?

Dave Ferrell

POSTED BY MarlinEdit AT 02:27