Terrific Diving at Isla Carmen, Loreto, Baja - Yellowtail/Jurel/Hamachi!

THE SEA IS TEEMING WITH LIFE - Anchored in 35' of water and a sandy bottom, the vertical rocky cliffs of this pretty anchorage promised to provide some quality underwater terrain and fish life. This north side of Isla Carmen, just off the coast of Loreto, Baja, faces the full effect of the Northern Sea of Cortez winter winds and so it has infrequent visitors and has a wild and rugged feel to it. Our 2 other buddy boats (Telitha and Ali'i Kai) were preparing to depart for their 24 hour crossing and return to their mainland home base in San Carlos. We'd spent a fun 2 weeks together with them and it was sadly time to go our separate ways.

Sylvia and I suited up for a freedive exploration of the area, eager to see the types of sea life the area would reveal (and perhaps offer up for dinner). There were white vertical sandstone cliffs with vertical cuts and eroded caves plunging into rocky structure and washrocks. There was that magic sea grotto lighting that held various turquoise water colors, shimmering shafts of sunlight, and mysterious dark shadows.

In the water, I loaded up the bands of my speargun. Since I expected to be hunting amongst the rocks, I elected not to attach the floating line and float normally used for bluewater areas. In a few minutes, this would prove consequential.

On my first dive down, getting warmed up, I saw multiple schools of small to medium-sized fish; triggers, tangs, jacks, chub, and in the far distance, some dusky larger hulks, perhaps snapper, pargo, or grouper. There was a riot of activity as the fish moved all about. The place seemed very fishy, for sure. On my second dive, I slipped down to the car sized boulders on the bottom, near where they met the white sandy flats, and confirmed the presence of some lunker cabrilla and pargo. As usual, the big guys were leery and lurking towards the edge of the 30' visibility.

Back on the surface, recovering my breath, I spied a nice sized pargo below. Fully relaxed and with an expanded lung full of air, I dropped down on my third dive, careful to parallel my target fish and not to swim directly for it. Approaching the bottom at ~25', I glanced to my side to spy my pargo when suddenly a solo yellowtail jack hove into view, checking me out. "A friggin' YT, really?", I thought. I did a double take to be sure of the size and closeness of the unexpected visitor. "Yup, that's lunker". In a reactive instant, I swung the gun around, aim-tracked for a partial second, and took the shot.

BAM! The shaft hit the big guy close to midline, so, "good news!", it was a decent shot. The YT went nuts as I grabbed the line, hand over hand, and swam for the surface, adrenaline pumping. At this point, it was critical to keep the fish out of the rocks to prevent escape (tear off, line cut, shaft jam, etc.), but also critical now, was my lack of a floating line/float with which to play the powerful fish from the surface. If you've ever caught a YT, you know that they are strong and mighty fighters. I had to quickly get another breath and get hold of the fish or else chance losing it by having it tear off , swim off with my gear, or entangle and drown me. Hauling the fish in close, his power was impressive, but I was able to bear hug his flailing body, grip his gills, and hold him under my arm. Struggling for breath through my snorkel, I shouted a "heads up" to Sylvia and simultaneously swam to a fortunately-located nearby shallow ledge. I was able to plant my feet down while grabbing my leg knife with which to terminate the fish. Sylvia arrived just as the coup-de-grace was delivered and the noble fish settled into a final sleep.
"OMG!", Sly shrieked.
"Yeah, what good luck, what a beauty", I panted.
"So much for our exploring! Guess we should swim back to the boat and prep the fish! Wow!", Sly remarked.

In only 3 dives and 5 minutes, we had wrangled an estimated 40+ lb prize. I was elated about the whole event. It was the first time we had landed a YT aboard Cinnabar solely from diving while at anchor and without a McGuire in sight. To do just this has been a long time pursuit of mine, part of really "Living the Dream".

Indeed, we were graced with nature's bounty. Yellowtail Jacks, like their tuna cousins, are the epitome of nature's design - beautiful, colorful, hydrodynamic, strong, and optimized for their speedy purpose. And mighty delicious too. Most folks enjoy them as Hamachi at their local sushi haunt.

Fortunately, our fellow boater pals were still around, so they were able to share in the joy of the catch and to depart with some delicious fresh fillets for their ocean journey.

Later in the afternoon, after some rest and lunch, Sylvia and I returned to the water and conducted a proper and full "snorkel survey" of the area. It was incredible; very busy, lots of terrain structure and dense sea life. We saw schools of silvery permits, skinny sierra mackerels, even skinnier barracudas, gangs of pargos, groups of groupers, a startled hawksbill sea turtle, free swimming green moray eels, and clouds of brightly colored small fish of almost every Sea of Cortez variety. Alone together, we were euphoric at our lucky chance to witness the ocean realm in its best wild beauty and healthy condition. And, surprisingly, we saw no more YTs.
--TC
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