We were practically at a dead stop since I was already hooked up, so Robbo acted quickly, feeding a lure back and popping it to keep the fish lit up. Damned if that billfish didn’t eat that lure and take off for Costa Rica. Rob set the hook and held the rod while my wife belted in to go a few rounds with Senor Pez Vela. This was surreal, movie type stuff….I’m fighting a hot dorado on a flyrod while my wife is standing next to me battling a sailfish on standup gear. Robbo was busy shooting video of the twin battles, Chris and his crew worked their asses off keeping the boat situated so lines would not tangle….it was a zoo. A great, frenetic, wonderful zoo of pure pandemonium and shouts of encouragement. If something like that does not get you jacked up, you are DEAD !!!! J.







My wife’s arms eventually gave out…after 30 minutes of hard battle, lactic acid had built up to the point where she was cramped and just could not pull on the beast any longer. Rob took over and kept at it until the beauty was subdued. After a few quick photos we put him back to swim again.







Gringo Grande and Mrs. Mingo chill with ice cold Atlas after teaming up to land the gorgeous pez vela!!!!!



I did actually have two more sailfish shots that day. One hit my popper and was hooked for maybe 3 headshakes and came unbuttoned; the other came up and just waved his bill at my fly, chafing the hell out of my bite leader with his sandpaper rapier……..