For a category of blue water angler, there is nothing in the world more exciting than catching a billfish on a fly. Teasing a fish—lit up in brilliant neons, accosting a teaser with violent provocation—to within 30 feet of the transom. Within range to lay a big, pink and white popper…
Guatemala is the best place in the world for such pursuits. Captain Jono is an expert. The Allure II has been the setting of thousands of such encounter. We’d love to put you on the action.
Here’s what you might expect. Here’s why it’s so exciting. Here’s why we enjoy it so much.
There He Is
You are trolling offshore. Good day for it. Most days in Guatemala are good days for it.
Calm. There are lots of fish around. After raising 15 and releasing seven on bait, you make the switch.
You break out the fly tackle. The approach is much the same, with a few modifications.
Captain Jono raises one of the outriggers. The other stays the same, a rigged ballyhoo in the long rigger. A bridge teaser running on each side. Two teasers run out of the flat lines.
“There he is!” It’s Captain Jono. There’s a sail on the right flat teaser.
The mate has already seen it and is in motion by the time you hear the call. He’s on the reel– artful and practiced.
There is a mate on the teaser reel. The second mate hands you the fly set up…. He smiles.
The mate on the teaser is drawing the fish in, enticing it boatward. Allowing it enough of a taste of the teaser to keep its interest. Captain Jono is coordinating the action. The captain and crew work together seamlessly. It is fascinating to watch.
Watching the fish’s advance, Captain Jono throws the boat into neutral, and turns hard to present a patch of clear water. It is time.
“Cast!” comes the voice from above.
Holding the rod, you catch yourself in a trance. You’ve been watching the scene transpiring behind the boat, breath bated, your entire attention focused. You realize that you’ve been holding your breath… completely captivated.
Captain Jono’s call snaps you back into reality. As he pulls the boat into neutral, you’re up. This isn’t hook and hand, it’s not watch the mates do what they do. This is first person; you’re in the action.
Come See Us. We’ve Got the Fly Gear Ready
His call means it’s your time. One strip. A bit of a backcast—the rigger behind you is up for this very reason. You lift the pink and white popper over your right shoulder before laying it 25 feet off the starboard corner of the boat.
It’s perfect. The popper lands with a bit of a splash. The water around it clear and blue, free of aeration.
As it flies through the air, the mate deftly snatches the teaser from the water. The sailfish—beautiful, neon and agitated—eats the fly going away.
Strip, strip, smash.
You see it all. A visual bite from one of the world’s preeminent gamefish. A bite that has taken place in closer proximity than your television sits from your couch in the living room back home.
You’re one-to-one with the fastest fish in the ocean. You set the hook with the reel— pulling the rod straight backward, rather than lifting it away from the fish.
Two firm tugs, and the black nickel J hook finds its place. The sailfish does what sailfish do—and it’s beautiful.
Two headshakes, its shoulders out of the water, the enlarged dorsal fin sloshing back and forth a beat or two behind the rhythm of the remainder of its body. Then it’s underwater. Away from you, away from the boat, running like a scolded cat.
The fish comes out of the water completely, cartwheeling as though propelled by a bottle rocket. It jumps away from the boat. You look down, line is melting off of the reel. Its handle spinning fast enough that you imagine its speed to be measured in RPMs.
Your buddies are sitting with their backs to the reflective black glass of the salon window. You had forgotten about them, forgotten they were here. The scene unfolding behind you captivating enough that you had forgotten about everything else in the world.
You remember they are back there when they holler. Their screams equal parts celebration, exultation, and outlet for the surge of energy that bursts forth from their excitement. “Yeaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!”
What has just happened might be the coolest fishing experience you’ve ever been part of. Up close and personal, interactive—a bite that was close enough to you to be described as an intimate encounter.
The fish settles in. You make your way to the transom. Your thighs touching the teak of the covering boards.
Captain Jono backs down on the fish. His voice reassuring—offering pointers and tips, relaying experience in a way that is remarkably friendly.
Don’t forget to breathe, you tell yourself. This is awesome. You won’t forget it, but you take mental note to make sure that you remember every part of it. You look around, you’re here for this.
After seven minutes on the stick, you get the fish to the side of the boat. When it’s in range, the mate expertly grabs the fish by the bill.
You get your picture—fly rod displayed, sailfish boatside. The blues and blacks of its extended dorsal pop next to the yellow hull of the Allure II.
Looking at this picture, your friends and family remark about your smile. It looks like your mouth is trying to eat your ears. The picture will hang in your house for a long time.
You release the fish. High fives, smiles all around. Your buddy is up next.
Cold beer in hand, you’ll get to watch the same spectacle unfold for him. He’ll be similarly entranced.
You guys will release seven sails on the fly today. That was after releasing seven more on conventional in the morning. It will make you want to come back and do this more often.
You can’t imagine it getting any more exciting than this. That’s until a blue marlin crashes the flyfishing party at 9:00 the next morning.
A fun-sized blue marlin. Around 200. Faster and twitchier than the strike of a rattlesnake. Damn.
There really is nothing like it. Only in Guatemala.
