the tarpon diaries

[Ken Gargett]

this is a piece i did for a fishing mag - the fabulous 'fishing wild'. rob asked me to post it and the editor kindly gave permission.

it is a terrific mag, with great stories from around the world and some of the very best fishing photography you've ever seen. the editor a former professional photographer, i believe, and it shows.

check out the link - www.fishingwild.com.au.

i've done a few stories for them though sadly they have all been in the disaster 'horror' section.

this was from a trip a while back which included our very own freefall!

All I wanted to do was catch a tarpon. Just one. A big one would be nice but any size would do. And so, a trip some three years in the making was under way. Sort of.

Mates and I had made the trek from Australia to Cuba for a number of years, usually combining the annual Cigar Festival and bonefishing. Recent years, we'd branched out – trout in Chile (right next to the volcano that exploded, though fortunately, it had the good grace to wait until after we had departed) and peacock bass in the Amazon, though work stuffed that one for me.

I reckoned I’d found the right place for tarpon – the Rio Colorado Lodge in Costa Rica. Half a dozen of us committed; I put things in motion. Flights booked (Brisbane/Sydney/Dallas/San Jose and the reverse), deposits paid. One by one, the mates fell by the wayside. Health, family, business, audits and something totally spurious.

Fortunately, a couple of other friends – Gary from Victoria and Rob from Maryland, USA – immediately stuck up their hands, though it was far from plain sailing for our newbies. 'Can't you organise my cigars?' 'Will you be able to send emails for me?' My favourite was five emails about whether or not one should bring insect repellent. Seriously? Grown men? The Lodge is in a jungle – take a wild guess.

A mate lent me his 15-weight rod as I’d been told these fish snapped 12's with ease. I’d tried practising but the results were so bad I’d almost decided to forgo fly and use the Lodge's conventional gear, when we noticed my idiot mate had put the fly-line on backwards, the shooting head at the rear, making it near-impossible to cast.

I’d spent hours on the phone to a certain airline, best known as the 'Stumbling Wombat' (surely compelling evidence there is no God), to ensure all flights were linked, to minimise hassles, then arrived, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the Brisbane Wombat desk at a ridiculously early hour, to find all flights had been unlinked. The Wombat has me going to Sydney. Period. The poor woman spends ages rectifying this. Eventually, good to go, though neither of us are quite sure whether she has my luggage going to San Jose in Costa Rica or California. I ask if she has heard anything about my promised upgrade (last flight with the Wombat, they lost my luggage). She dissolves in fits of laughter. Who can blame her?

Surely, this will now be a quiet, uneventful day in planes and airports (and airport bars)?

You could not make it up. There, on the TV in the lounge - “Earthquake devastates Central America”. Anyway, apparently, it was several countries distant from Costa Rica and on the Pacific side, not the Atlantic, so we were still on track.

I’m told Sydney-Dallas is the world's longest commercial flight – it certainly felt like it. Finally, the Dallas Airport and the first bloke I walk into is Gary. Things now going well – just need to find Rob.

As Team Leader, I'm in complete control at all times. Except I missed the memo saying Rob decided to go via Miami (beat us to Costa Rica by hours). We just figured he'd catch up, as we headed to the gate to board the last leg. A delay, so we set up camp at the 'Blue Mesa Tequila Bar' and asked the waitress to 'surprise us' – you'd think adults would know better. We get Beerarita's! Whacko. They come in giant goldfish bowl-sized glasses – about a gallon of lime/lemon margarita with an upturned beer, which you can remove and drink or allow to meld in as you drink it. Apparently, 'Beerarita's' aren't well known locally, as strangers were coming up taking our pictures; more sensible strangers were coming up ordering their own. A mate from Texas later told me they were invented at a nearby college bar. God bless students.

Finally, we land in San Jose. Chaos. Luggage due on carousel 3. We wait. After an hour, the crowd is thinning. Bloody hell! Then I noticed one of my bags happily going around carousel 2 – the flight from Panama. I don't ask. The rods pop out on carousel 4. Then the real fun starts. The crowd for immigration/security and its two x-ray machines is at least 120 deep. We do the polite thing, standing in line. Fools. No one else does. So it is trolleys forward! I'm bigger than most Costa Ricans and in no time, we have dodgem-car'd our way to the front. And out. Max, our driver/guide is waiting, although we are 2 1/2 hours late.

45 minutes later, we arrive at the hotel. Reception requests my passport. Sheer horror strikes. My documents bag is missing. I rip apart every piece of luggage I have, fling it around the lobby, swear endlessly (I'm usually so careful – about not losing things, not so much the swearing), kick the strewn mess, repack and rip it all apart again. I have an audience watching the frantic foreigner with a mix of amusement and bewilderment. They are treated to a great deal of very bad language. It is gone! That clawing from the depths of Hell starts tearing at my gut. There'll be no 'Hail Mary' moment here, no last second, run-the-length-of-the-field intercept try to save the day. I’m screwed. I can only think that someone in the heaving crowd neatly lifted the bag. The realisation sinks in. No fishing for me. No way can I fly off into the middle of a jungle, then front up for my flights back home without a passport. I will be spending the week desperately trying to sort this out – which will be fun, as almost all of my money and cards were in the same bag. Does Costa Rica even have an Aussie Embassy? Delays? I’ll need to book new flights as mine were locked in on points. How will I manage that? This is a nightmare. I’m tempted to see it as the worst thing that has ever happened to any human being in history, but the odd earthquake, flood, fire and holocaust, may just take precedence. Just. But it really is a nightmare.

Max suggests returning to the airport to try 'lost and found'. Fat chance. Rob has joined us as he speaks Spanish and the three of us head back. I hold out no hope. Security will only let me back in – they send in the only bloke who can't speak Spanish? I’m trying to explain things to some uniformed woman, who speaks no English, at a desk next to the X-ray machines when, could it be, I happen to spot, yes it is, a small black docs case on the corner of her desk. I don't know or care how or why. From my reaction, she doesn't need ID to confirm it is mine. What other idiot would be doing a victory dance, and yahoo'ing, in Customs? I can go fishing. I’m tipping people like I actually have money!

We head for a cold beer. Has the luck on this trip turned? Not quite. We arrive at the bar at 12.01am. It shuts at midnight. No, he won't serve us even one beer. Don't ask me why but mini-bars in Costa Rican hotel rooms are all locked shut. So no beer. But I’ll take that – it could've been so much worse.

Next morning? Weight's critical as the flight into the Lodge is on some rubber-band propelled piece of balsa wood. The pilot was the spitting image of Caesar Romaro but he got us there – a smooth landing on the CIA-constructed runway at the tiny airport next to the Lodge. Seems the original purpose of the Lodge was to conduct covert activities into Nicaragua. We arrive to a welcoming committee of police armed with machine guns, who march us off towards the jungle. What is going on? Dan from the Lodge, a former Mississippi trial lawyer and surely Hunter Thompson resurrected, arrived in time to 're-direct' us. What next?

Did I mention the rain? We are told that they had 'enjoyed' at least 12 inches of rain the previous day – they emptied their 6” rain-gauge twice and then gave up. Our first night, surely we matched that. The River was very high, flowing like a demon – no chance to cross the bar (actually, they have three bars as the River splits – all are as bad as each other). The grounds at the Lodge remained under water our entire visit – fortunately, there are a series of wooden walkways everywhere. They reminded me of the walkways at Hogwarts – I swear they moved whenever you stopped watching them.

The fishing? Well, those staying at the Lodge that week managed to break a four-decade record. For its entire 40 years, the Lodge has kept detailed daily records of who caught what, how big, which guide, where (they fish both the River and just offshore over the bar) and how many tarpon were hooked and lost – a lot more than ever get to the boats, apparently. Seems the longest ever stretch, not for failing to catch a tarpon but for actually not hooking one, was three days. Our five-day visit? Not a single tarpon hooked by anyone. Not a sniff. I probably saw 200 of the monsters 'rolling', some approaching 200 lbs; others saw similar numbers. Some of these giant silver fish even had the audacity to breach over my fly line! One came so close to the boat I could've patted it on the back. Lure, bait, fly, trolling, you name it. Nada! We got the guides fishing as well. Even they came up empty. I later learnt the stretch extended into a Sixth day, before the Fishing Gods rested on the Seventh, allowing a single tarpon to break the drought.

Rio Colorado Lodge is a wonderful place, albeit sans fish. Great staff, great fun and apparently usually great fishing. The wildlife is spectacular.

I can't wait to come back but I might pick a drier month and chain my passport to me.

KBG

[Rushman]

very nice read Ken! Thanks for sharing.

[LordAnubis]

Gotta love travel stories!! Thanks for sharing Ken.

[stogieme]

great read!!

[puromaniac]

Love tarpon fishing, but not the travel woes. I can't even imagine using a 15-weight rod though. A 12 is tiring enough for a week.

[CUBANO]

Good story, thanks Ken.

[Guest photorob]

That was a great read Ken, thanks for posting!

I made it down to Costa Rica years ago, only got one small Mahi Mahi.

Got my tarpon in Florida by chance in 2011, off a dock while the guys were filleting fish. Saw a large shadow around the dock, so I put a line out. Tarpon took the bait and made a run, we had to jump in a kayak. It pulled us around for 20 mins. Finally got it to a beach, unhooked her and released her. Small fish, about 40lbs we estimated. Still, the fish and fight of my lifetime.

[Ken Gargett]

That was a great read Ken, thanks for posting!

I made it down to Costa Rica years ago, only got one small Mahi Mahi.

Got my tarpon in Florida by chance in 2011, off a dock while the guys were filleting fish. Saw a large shadow around the dock, so I put a line out. Tarpon took the bait and made a run, we had to jump in a kayak. It pulled us around for 20 mins. Finally got it to a beach, unhooked her and released her. Small fish, about 40lbs we estimated. Still, the fish and fight of my lifetime.

fabulous fish.

on fly or lure/bait? sounds like the latter?

[Guest photorob]

fabulous fish.

on fly or lure/bait? sounds like the latter?

Just a small circle hook with a strip of scrap mahi mahi that was going to be thrown away from cleaning fish. Caught on a very light weight spinning rod, so really had to "bow to the king" every time it jumped.

A buddy of mine had a baby bite on a shrimp (maybe 2ft long) from the same dock days earlier but it shook off on it's first jump.

[Ken Gargett]

Just a small circle hook with a strip of scrap mahi mahi that was going to be thrown away from cleaning fish. Caught on a very light weight spinning rod, so really had to "bow to the king" every time it jumped.

A buddy of mine had a baby bite on a shrimp (maybe 2ft long) from the same dock days earlier but it shook off on it's first jump.

right up on top of the bucketlist!

[Easttide]

I've caught tarpon from a boat with a guide, amazing fish.

In the last 3 years of targeting one from shore (I'm a striped-bass surfcaster from Cape Cod where "boat fish don't count"- just a joke!) while in the FL Keys I have had a hookup, but haven't landed one. Aside from a 50 lb shore caught striper (46 is highest) this is my biggest fishing goal.

Headed back in April!

[Ken Gargett]

I've caught tarpon from a boat with a guide, amazing fish.

In the last 3 years of targeting one from shore (I'm a striped-bass surfcaster from Cape Cod where "boat fish don't count"- just a joke!) while in the FL Keys I have had a hookup, but haven't landed one. Aside from a 50 lb shore caught striper (46 is highest) this is my biggest fishing goal.

Headed back in April!

for me, these things have their own bucketlist. everything else on another list.