Coiba, Panama

    Getting ready to leave on a dive trip is always stressful, but especially this time since we were going back to Panama for at least three months.  When you finally get to the airport and get your bags checked you can start to relax. Our last hurdle was the security check, never knowing what the latest absurdity will be.  I walked thru the scanner—- cool.  My bag went through, but they nixed my crunchy peanut butter bomb in a jar, but before they took it, I downed a couple of huge gulps for a little energy.  Michelle’s bags went through fine and she stepped through the scanner and “Ding”.  They told her to take off her belt and walk through again.  I looked down at her belt and my heart stopped.  I recognized the rhinestones on my buckle, and I could see a major drill coming. Michelle had simply borrowed my belt, not knowing it was special,——-  with the buckle, being the handle of a razor sharp, stainless steel, stiletto concealed in the belt. Since common sense and human judgment do not seem to be part of the security equation,  I could see we could be their token terrorist or drug runners for the day and could miss the next flight.  Michelle took off the belt, put it on the tray, and stepped through, no problem. The knife in the tray went through the scanner and ———the guy got my peanut butter,  but, he totally missed my stiletto.  Say YES to Security. Michelle put her knife belt back on and we were good for the next two plane rides till we got to Panama without a problem. I think they should spend more time checking the shoes of the 80 year olds as I saw them doing, and leave the divers alone.

    Our good fortune continued as we headed out to do some rainy season diving in the Coiba area. The change of seasons here is not usually good for many fish but since we had not dived for three months we had to get back and immerse ourselves in the liquid land of the unexpected.  On day one, rusty at shooting, we both missed the first couple of shots, but were really happy to see that the wahoo were still there, because there was not much else around, including bait. The second day we made a run to a distant island I don’t know very well, but the conditions were beautiful and clear. Hunting wahoo when there are not many fish, can get boring, because in the deep water that wahoo seem to prefer, there is usually not much else around and you can’t see the bottom.  We did however, have a rare visit from a medium size marlin that lit us up, but it never came close enough for a shot. Still, Michelle managed to shoot two nice wahoo and I finally managed to hit my first of the trip. After cleaning the fish, we took the chopped up remains of the wahoo into shallow water and enjoyed dropping the chum and watching what went after it. The jacks and small snapper pick off most of the pieces on the way down, but the eels are the first ones on the chucks that hit the bottom. It is great fun to be swimming around in your own boundless aquarium feeding the fish, because when you are right next to deep water you never know what might show up.

    We had one more lesson to learn for the day that could have been an absolute disaster, attributable to the razor sharp teeth of a wahoo, especially a dead one with an open mouth.. With our weighing stick and the scale, we hung one wahoo through the lower jaw, for a picture. With most fish, that works fine but with wahoo, this part is a weak link, as the two sides of the lower jaw are thinly connected.  With the fish hanging next to Michelle for the picture, the weight of the fish ripped out the jaw and the fish crashed.  The tail hit first and the head fell in a slicing arc just clipping Michelle’s upper inner thigh. I was afraid to look at first, because of the stories I have heard about accidental encounters with the razor teeth of wahoo.  There was no gush of blood, but I could see the bloody slice of a single tooth that just grazed her leg. One more inch and it could have been Code Red with at least 5 hours to the nearest harbor. Thank you Neptune for one more lesson in our never ending freediving course, and especially since we got to continue our diving, instead of making an emergency run for medical help.

    The following day we started out at 5:30 AM while still dark, with the idea of circling the island, maybe 90-100 miles, to check out some new places. As expected, with the rainy season and warm water we did not find many fish. I saw no Bohala and only one huge Pargo but too deep for us. At the same place I also saw a Bull Shark with a head at least 18 inches wide, but he never came up off the bottom.  Later, we found some big blue travally next to a rock wall where the waves were breaking. I shot one 18 and one 20 pounder and wanted Michelle to have a try, even though it was a bit scary, rainy, dark, and dangerous. It was necessary to get close to the wall, dive down and then shoot toward the open water, staying horizontal in the water, ready to power away from the rocks when you felt the incoming swell. Michelle dove down and turned up vertical in the water, so focused on a fish, she was unaware of being carried backward toward the rocks. Her feet and fins hit first, and the power of the incoming swell forced her onto her back and carried her into the rocks, inverted, as she looked up at the surface 10 or 12 feet above.  Not a good feeling as some of us know. A few more seconds, the wave peaked and started the other direction. Seeing she was disoriented, I grabbed her arm and indicated the direction to swim, away from the rocks and toward open water, with power. The next wave would have thrown her more violently on the rocks in shallow water which is big time trouble. As it was, Michelle was fine, just a bit scared and bruised up but definitely ready to try another place—- away from the waves. The freediving lessons continue. We made it back in the dark, watching as we ran, in the moonlight, for the many floating logs. We had one long, cold, dark day with no sun, tons of rain and few fish, but another fantastic day at sea.  Then, with some fresh fried fish for fuel,  eight or nine hours of vision filled sleep, under our tropic screen that keeps out the chitras, and we were magically rejuvenated and ready to go the next morning at daylight. The last day was the best with another unexpected surprise we had never seen before.

    We arrived at our spot, suited up and ready to go, and all looked quiet. Little did we know that the cosmos had conspired to bring everything into perfect alignment at this moment—- the stars, the moon, the tides, the water temperature, the bait, the wind, the current and the hunting mojo and us ——all here NOW. Our first Ten Bagger was about to happen.

    A hundred yards out the water the water started to boil in a small circle about 25 feet in diameter. It got increasingly frantic but no fish broke the surface and I turned to our driver and asked him what it was. He looked perplexed as he studied the boil for several moments and then in a surprised and hushed voice announced “Wahoo”.  We were seeing for the first time in our experience, a “feeding frenzy” of a large group, of wahoo, on the surface. What an amazing site to witness. We were captivated watching and listening to the water boil as we approached the frenzy. Just before we got there, the water went flat and quiet. Michelle went over the side with the gun and I carried a new CD flasher.  Toss—Splash——Spin as the CDs drop under the surface, and suddenly there are six wahoo on the flasher. BAM— Michelle puts a spear thru the nearest one. As she fights to pull the spear up, I see three more following her fish around. We boat the fish, reload and jump back in.  The fish are still here. Toss, Splash, Spin and BAM. We are loving it as we have never seen so many fish. Back in the boat to reload and move back up current.  At times a boil would surface a few hundred yards away but there were so many wahoo that we decided not to chase the bait. Almost every time we threw the flasher, fish would show up, but often they would not slow enough for us to take a shot. It was wonderful to see eight or ten fish at times come in to check the flasher. Most of the fish were in the 30-40 pound range. Toss, Splash, Spin and BAM. We kept shooting because we knew it could turn off at any moment. Once, when the boil was very close to us, I tossed the flasher and went down when it got to about 10 feet deep.  The King of the Pack came in, moving quickly, amped up to the max, divine energy flowing, totally alive. I gazed with admiration on this beautiful creature and I recognized he is excited, energized and focused on the hunt, just the same as I am. He must have caught my eyes and sensed another predator, because before I could line up on his jerky movements, he was gone. He would have been an awesome prize.  We were up to eight fish and the coolers were full when the panga driver said he would like to take two fish home to his family.  Without hesitation Michelle reloaded and slid back in the water.  She has great eyes and sees fish I often miss.  Because we can wait for good shots, we lost only one fish and no body shots.. I backed up Michelle as she put fish number nine in the boat and we decide to go for the Ten Bagger—- A first for us. My turn.  I went down and lined up on the flasher as it fell. I felt Michelle give a tug on my float line and turned to see another monster pass, but out of range. When I surfaced Michelle told me he passed behind me, just five feet away. Too bad. Michelle did the honors on the final fish of our First Ten Bagger with a perfect stone shot. There were still fish everywhere, but the boxes were full, we felt great, and we would be back in a couple of weeks. We had never shot ten wahoo before and Michelle was thrilled to shoot eight fish and I was happy with two. I felt especially grateful to get to see my first Wahoo Feeding Frenzy and then get to see fish in the numbers I had never seen before. In my past years of diving never have I seen such a coincidence of all the perfect elements present at the very moment and place, that we were hunting.  I know a Ten Bagger with Wahoo is a rare occurrence and will probably never happen again in my life but I accept the gift with gratitude. YES! Thank You.

    As we head for the port I check my Chocolatita and read the pleased smile on her face. It says “I am happy to have my wetsuit off”——I am really happy to have shot Eight wahoo——and ‘‘I always knew I could outshoot you on our————————FIRST TEN BAGGER”——————-“YEA—SURE”

Dix and Michelle Roper
    13 November 2009
    dixroper@earthlink.net