Los Buzos, Panama

To pick up where I left off last month, I and nine other guys were fishing the Pacific coast of southern Panama. Thus far, half our group has successfully landed our first roosterfish and everyone has managed generous numbers of snapper and other reef species. The first two days of fishing have been great and we have been blessed with decent weather and tides.

At dinner following the second day of fishing, our guides, Dakota and Jeff, began to talk about gameplans for the next day. Checking the weather forecast, they strongly urged that we consider a mothership trip to San Patricio. They assured us it would be worth the early-morning hour-long panga ride. We agreed and were all anxious to fish another stretch of Panama’s amazing coast.

We were up before dawn and the Los Buzos crew were already preparing for the panga shuttle to the new fishing grounds. Sitting at breakfast, the subject of tuna entered the conversation and it certainly caught everyone’s attention. The guides were most accommodating and three of our group decided to chase tuna with a plan to rendezvous with the rest of the group for more rooster fishing in the event the tuna could not be located. We grabbed a few coffees to go and began to load up on the pangas. We cut down the Panamanian coast and the sheer beauty of the rockfaces, crashing water, and fauna made the hour ride worth it.

We unloaded the kayaks while Dakota and Jeff provided a rundown of the area, including likely fishing spots and location of hazards to avoid. Fortunately for us, catching bait was an easy task that morning, so we were all fishing very soon upon arrival. It was not long before JC came over the radio to report he was hooked-up with the first rooster of the morning. Not long after, I got a good run but missed the hookset. Maybe within ten minutes, the radio crackled again as Ryan reported being hooked-up. Both pangas headed his way and a few minutes into his fight, another call on the radio announced a third hook-up. One of the pangas split away from Ryan to assist with the landing, and maybe within another minute or two, the call to report yet another hook-up rang out, and then another. We had four roosters hooked-up simultaneously, which for the guides, is what you call a good problem to have to deal with. Ryan was the first to hook up and the last to get his fish in, which told us he had a really big one. And, indeed, it was.

After that initial flurry, members of the group reported a few more runs but unfortunately only two produced landings. JC managed to top it all off with a pretty nice nurse shark. Long about 11:00, Dakota came over the radio with news that our tuna crew would not be joining us; they were on ‘em and had filled an ice chest before 9:00 am. We continued our own efforts but the rooster bite had slowed dramatically as the tide slackened. The decision to head back to camp came easily and everyone agreed our guides had not misled us; San Patricio had certainly lived up to the hype.

Dinner discussions again included the next day’s fishing plan. Myself, Ryan, and JC were anxious for a shot at tuna. They had never done it and I added fuel to the fire by saying that every angler needs to throw poppers for tuna at least once in their career. Rain clouds were hovering over the nearby mountains as we prepared to leave the next morning; and sure enough, the rains came. We spent our morning jigging reefs and catching snapper, hoping for grouper. The rain cleared mid-morning and allowed venturing further offshore, searching for birds working over schools of dolphins and tuna. It took a lot of paddling but we finally found them.

We began throwing poppers amid the feeding chaos and quickly doubled-up. We each managed a pair of fish, performed the obligatory high-five ceremony, and resumed paddling in search of another frenzy. It’s a lot of work, chasing tuna in a kayak, and everything happens very quickly when you find them, but what a rush. After maybe two hours of chasing them we’d finally put enough in the boat for dinner and plenty more for the guides to take home to their families. We arrived back to camp just as the others were also pulling in. They reported that the morning’s weather made for a slow start but they had still managed to land several roosterfish once it cleared.

Dinner discussions again included the next day’s plans. I was completely content at this point in the trip. I had landed my bucket list rooster and had a ball hammering tuna on poppers. I had basically achieved everything I came to do. With fishing no longer the priority it was in the beginning, I asked Dakota and Jeff if they would mind if I hopped on the panga with one of them, hoping to shoot some quality photos of the rest of the group on the water. And since I would be on the boat, I could also help catch bait and assist with anything else they might need. They agreed and told me to come on.

The last morning of fishing finally came around with all its customary bittersweetness. You don’t want it to end but you reminisce the previous days and feel thankful you were able to make the trip. We were greeted with plenty of sun, light winds, and a kind surf. We took off and began to catch bait for our group; two of the guys went down the beach in a panga to fish another area and look for tuna later in the day. Bait was easy to come by that morning and it didn’t take long to gather a good supply. Ryan was first on the radio to report being hooked up. We went to assist and, to our astonishment, he was hooked up on his smaller rod that was rigged with a jig and Sabiki setup. We coached him through the fight, encouraging him to take his time and avoid the risk of losing the fish. Fifteen minutes later he had a beautiful rooster alongside the kayak. What a great fish.

We received a call about mid-morning from Dakota. He wanted us to meet the other panga halfway as they had a really nice wahoo aboard that wouldn’t fit in their ice chest. “Come quick,” he urged. “We don’t want this fish to spoil in the heat.” So, away we went, and ran into Smalley and Lance several miles down the way. As we approached we could see the wahoo’s tail sticking out the cooler. We traded coolers and began to head back. Dropping it off, our next duty was to refresh the bait supply, and that’s when everything got crazy, like it often does when fishing Panama’s Pacific coast.

Mind you now, we were fishing for bait and into our second drift when my line came tight and I knew that I had hung into a rooster. After a few cranks on the reel, Pedro began yelling “Cinco Gallo! Cinco Gallo!” As my fish came up there were five other roosters with him and they swam right in front of the boat. Such a beautiful thing to behold, one of the most incredible sights I have ever witnessed and it will be forever burned into my memory. I got my fish in, made a few quick photos, and then released her back into the ocean. As the afternoon went on we landed two additional roosterfish and finally called it a day.

Overall, I am happy to say that I could not have been happier with the full Los Buzos experience. It is truly a world-class fishery, tucked away in one of the most remote and beautiful places in the world. Likewise, I cannot say enough about the guides and staff that made it all possible. The food was excellent, the people were nice as could be and the fishing was unlike anything I have ever encountered. As a group, we set a new lodge record with twenty-three roosters in five days of fishing. Los Buzos will haunt me until I can make a return visit, I’m sure. The world’s a big place, go see what it all has to offer and enjoy life.