The Daddy Mac'll Make Ya (Jump Jump)

In recent months two obsessive bass heads – Texas pro Keith Combs and my fishing mentor Bill Roberts – told me that if they were to chase any other species of fish besides bass, they’d strongly prefer that it be a species that jumps. No bulldogging yellowfin, no ass-dragging walleye, certainly no scavenging big-bellied catfish. They want to see fishing’s version of the Slam Dunk Contest, an aerial, acrobatic display.

Both of those dudes need to go to Guatemala, where the fish have mad hops.

Over three days at Casa Vieja lodge, my family caught 37 sailfish, and every single one of them tried to touch the sky. Some jumped ten, fifteen or twenty times. They did it upon being hooked, halfway to the boat, and then right at the boat when you thought they were completely whipped, close enough to see every glowing burst of color across their sides and fins. We did not have the misfortune of having one come bill first into the boat, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if one did.

These fish were so fast that they’d jump 20 yards from where your line entered the water, and you’d reel like hell just to catch up. During the six doubles we experienced on Thursday, at times both fish were aloft, and it wasn’t always obvious which one belonged to each angler. Each time they went up I feared they’d shake the hook, at the same time knowing that if they did another one would bite soon after, thereby enabling me to fully enjoy the show.