To see the articles, photographs and videos associated with them in this edition, please CLICK HERE to see the issue ONLINE. The following extracts are a selection from those articles and press releases in the online magazine.
Edition Nº 07 ... MAR / MAY 2009
“Another side of Panama” by Captain Rich Adler
I recently had the opportunity to fish Panama. After hearing the reports of anglers coming back from fishing the mother ship operations, we decided to book a trip to Coiba Island to be close to the Hannibal Bank. On a Sunday, Captain Jerry Melia of the Hard Eight, Mitch Poricov of Jersey Shore Diesel, Michael Hall, and myself left from Newark Airport, New Jersey on a four and a half hour flight to Panama City. After overnighting in this booming city we flew the next morning in a small plane to Coiba Island, approximately 250 miles to the southwest of the capital and fifty miles off of the mainland. On take off it was pretty neat seeing all of the ships waiting just offshore to pass through the Panama Canal.
Coiba is a fifty mile long island that was used as a prison by the Panamanian government for many years. While new prisoners are no longer being shipped to Coiba, there are still a few prisoners with guards living there. The government has now created a national park on the island. After a one hour flight from Panama City and landing on a small air strip at the prison camp, we were met by Captain Tom Yust in his center console. After the prisoners loaded our bags for us, we ran to our fishing camp about 45 minutes away. Captain Tom leases two buildings from the government
on Coiba. One building can hold up to six people in two units. The other building houses his staff and supplies. These units are very Spartan, no hot water (think cold) and the government generator only supplies electricity from 7 PM to 6 AM. The cold shower problem was solved when a long black garden hose was discovered. After sitting all day in the sun, it provided a nice hot shower after fishing. It was tough shaving in the dark, but we worked around that.
We fished on a classic 31 foot Bertram that was kept in great shape, and all of the tackle was first class. The first couple of days, the pelagic fish showed us no love, but we settled for Rooster fish from 20 to 50 pounds and Cubera Snapper from 20 to 65 pounds. When the marlin woke up we released a 300 pound Blue Marlin that had been previously tagged, broke off an 800 pound class Black Marlin, and then released a 300 pound Black Marlin. These three fish were all encountered in less than three hours. Later the same day a couple of Dorado decided to join us for dinner.
When we weren’t fishing, the wildlife at the camp kept us entertained. There were parrots, howler monkeys, and hite faced monkeys up in he trees, agoutis, opossums,iguanas, and a 9 foot crocodile walking around, and a resident population of vultures looking for a handout. As a diver I found the snorkeling to be world class, and I was able to get right next to a green turtle while Bluefin Trevally and Rainbow Parrotfish were circling. The food provided by our Culinary Institute trained chef (notice
I did not say cook) was first class and the open bar did not hurt any either! We all agreed on our return that this was the fastest week of our lives and we look forward to returning to Panama in the near future.
Coiba is a fifty mile long island that was used as a prison by the Panamanian government for many years. While new prisoners are no longer being shipped to Coiba, there are still a few prisoners with guards living there. The government has now created a national park on the island. After a one hour flight from Panama City and landing on a small air strip at the prison camp, we were met by Captain Tom Yust in his center console. After the prisoners loaded our bags for us, we ran to our fishing camp about 45 minutes away. Captain Tom leases two buildings from the government
on Coiba. One building can hold up to six people in two units. The other building houses his staff and supplies. These units are very Spartan, no hot water (think cold) and the government generator only supplies electricity from 7 PM to 6 AM. The cold shower problem was solved when a long black garden hose was discovered. After sitting all day in the sun, it provided a nice hot shower after fishing. It was tough shaving in the dark, but we worked around that.
We fished on a classic 31 foot Bertram that was kept in great shape, and all of the tackle was first class. The first couple of days, the pelagic fish showed us no love, but we settled for Rooster fish from 20 to 50 pounds and Cubera Snapper from 20 to 65 pounds. When the marlin woke up we released a 300 pound Blue Marlin that had been previously tagged, broke off an 800 pound class Black Marlin, and then released a 300 pound Black Marlin. These three fish were all encountered in less than three hours. Later the same day a couple of Dorado decided to join us for dinner.
When we weren’t fishing, the wildlife at the camp kept us entertained. There were parrots, howler monkeys, and hite faced monkeys up in he trees, agoutis, opossums,iguanas, and a 9 foot crocodile walking around, and a resident population of vultures looking for a handout. As a diver I found the snorkeling to be world class, and I was able to get right next to a green turtle while Bluefin Trevally and Rainbow Parrotfish were circling. The food provided by our Culinary Institute trained chef (notice
I did not say cook) was first class and the open bar did not hurt any either! We all agreed on our return that this was the fastest week of our lives and we look forward to returning to Panama in the near future.
“Fishy Tips” by Capt. Walt...
When I set the cost of a charter I do try to incorporate anticipated costs with a respectable profit; therefore any additional revenues realized are a windfall. Sometimes they come from the most unexpected venues.
Case in point:
A very respectable family from San Diego, California was bringing their eldest daughter to her freshman year at Harvard University. They Mom,
Pop, Granddad and Grandma along with joiner chattered my fine vessel for a half day fishing departing from the historic fishing port of Gloucester, Massachusetts.
They all arrived dressed to the nines in new apparel purchased just for the occasion with white deck shoes, white chinos and skits for the ladies with matching white Cashmere V neck sweaters for all. Dad and grandpa sported fine fedoras in of course white colour. As we cruise peacefully from the inner harbour of the famed fishtown past the historical fisherman’s statue and the infamous “Greasy Pole” my trusty crewmember Donny deployed a brace of sturdy trolling rods from the transom. Contrary to our typical deployment of 8 rods running on flat lines and outrigger, we
suspected that just a simple rappala would be appropriate. It was not long before the two rods slammed downward with dacron line screaming expediently from the traditional star drag reels. We were all delighted by the squeels of the daughter who was escorted into the deck chair and assisted in planting the rod butt into the fighting gimbal. It was an extraordinary event with plentiful encouragement and photos by the entourage. After exausting the mighty fish it was time for a trouphy group photo. Crew Donnie hefted the mighty fish with its trashing teeth to show all and as he did so I caught glimpse from the corner of my always vigilant eye of the group as I kept my mind on the task of navigating the busy waterways.
Donny was swinging the Bely stick forcefully at the Bluefish’s head as I saw a mighty explosion of fish blood flying in all directions toward the cabin. Luckily I ducked behind the captains chair as the mood became hysteria. The entire family dressed in cashmere was dripping from head to toes in Bluefish blood. There stood Donnie with an understated look of puzzlement on his face as if to say “Do I still have a job? or perhaps he was thinking “ Maybe I should just swim to shore?”
The father of the ‘Harvard Girl’ broke the silence with a question. He asked, Can a person get AIDs from fish blood? I assured him that one could not as far as I knew. Then a round of laughter and applause and requests to catch some more like that big one. I don’t recall the exact amount of the tips when we return to the dock but I do recall they were substantial for both the Captain and the Crew. As far as the Kashmer sweaters. Some homeless people down the dock received a very nice gift from the people from California.
Capt. Walt Newenglandcharters@maine.rr.com
Case in point:
A very respectable family from San Diego, California was bringing their eldest daughter to her freshman year at Harvard University. They Mom,
Pop, Granddad and Grandma along with joiner chattered my fine vessel for a half day fishing departing from the historic fishing port of Gloucester, Massachusetts.
They all arrived dressed to the nines in new apparel purchased just for the occasion with white deck shoes, white chinos and skits for the ladies with matching white Cashmere V neck sweaters for all. Dad and grandpa sported fine fedoras in of course white colour. As we cruise peacefully from the inner harbour of the famed fishtown past the historical fisherman’s statue and the infamous “Greasy Pole” my trusty crewmember Donny deployed a brace of sturdy trolling rods from the transom. Contrary to our typical deployment of 8 rods running on flat lines and outrigger, we
suspected that just a simple rappala would be appropriate. It was not long before the two rods slammed downward with dacron line screaming expediently from the traditional star drag reels. We were all delighted by the squeels of the daughter who was escorted into the deck chair and assisted in planting the rod butt into the fighting gimbal. It was an extraordinary event with plentiful encouragement and photos by the entourage. After exausting the mighty fish it was time for a trouphy group photo. Crew Donnie hefted the mighty fish with its trashing teeth to show all and as he did so I caught glimpse from the corner of my always vigilant eye of the group as I kept my mind on the task of navigating the busy waterways.
Donny was swinging the Bely stick forcefully at the Bluefish’s head as I saw a mighty explosion of fish blood flying in all directions toward the cabin. Luckily I ducked behind the captains chair as the mood became hysteria. The entire family dressed in cashmere was dripping from head to toes in Bluefish blood. There stood Donnie with an understated look of puzzlement on his face as if to say “Do I still have a job? or perhaps he was thinking “ Maybe I should just swim to shore?”
The father of the ‘Harvard Girl’ broke the silence with a question. He asked, Can a person get AIDs from fish blood? I assured him that one could not as far as I knew. Then a round of laughter and applause and requests to catch some more like that big one. I don’t recall the exact amount of the tips when we return to the dock but I do recall they were substantial for both the Captain and the Crew. As far as the Kashmer sweaters. Some homeless people down the dock received a very nice gift from the people from California.
Capt. Walt Newenglandcharters@maine.rr.com
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