On Location with Mario Guel in Magdalena Bay

Puerto San Carlos, Magdalena Bay, Baja California Sur, Mexico. Magical, beautiful, and full of stray dogs. Many people have never heard of this place. Have you? I am sure if you’re reading this, you’re of the fly fishing sorts and you’ve seen the marlin videos on social media. Yeah, the ones of the striped marlin chasing bait balls next to pangas. Obligatory drone shots on the open ocean and underwater footage of striped marlin or mahi-mahi blasting bait. Oh, can’t forget about the slow-motion hookup shot of the striped marlin jumping with an EP-style fly shaking in its mouth. That’s Magdalena Bay, and because you fly fish, you’re intrigued. Or at least you should be. Although if you don’t fly fish or follow the fly fishing algorithms, you’ve probably never heard of this place. A bay almost as large as the San Francisco Bay, residing on the Pacific side of Baja California, connected to a delta of mangroves. Yes, I said mangroves on the Pacific side of North America. It is its own unique ecosystem, well off the beaten path of tequila bars, tourist traps, and spring break locales located south of the border. And you need to go there before you die. At least once. Just make sure you tell them Taco Fly Co. sent you.

I’ve been to Mag Bay a total of five times now. Each experience was different from the other. My first year was mixed with mangrove fishing, mahi-mahi, and a few shots at marlin. I didn’t have any idea what I was in for, and I can honestly say I was a noob at open-ocean fishing. You can watch that trip by Googling “Puro Pangas” on YouTube. Or maybe there will be a link for you to watch it here. The next year, there were no marlin outside of the bay, so we just teased in roosterfish all week and drank way too much tequila on the boat. Those headaches were horrible on that trip. Oh, the party days… On year three, there were prolific amounts of mahi-mahi with some good numbers of marlin around, and you can watch that trip by Googling “Under the Sun: Mag Bay” or clicking the link here. Last year, the marlin were loaded. Like, LOADED. No mahi-mahi around, and they were close to the southern mouth of the bay. We didn’t have to go 80 miles out like the year before to find the fish. They were in close, which gave us a lot more fishing time. Then there was this year. Again, marlin everywhere, and also my second year hosting the “Mag Bay Taco Tour,” where I bring six anglers down to MagBay Lodge to enjoy five days of pelagic fly fishing.

This is what I like about Mag Bay. You never know what you’re going to get, but you’re going to get some world-class fishing no matter what Mother Nature gives you. You might even see a whale, a dolphin, or a drunk fly fisherman stab himself in the hand with a fly if you’re lucky.

If I were you, I’d add it to the list of places to go get your mind blown. Save up now, get a credit card, do whatever you need to do to get a trip out there. You have to go before you die, or else you’ll be in heaven looking down at bait balls getting swarmed by six-foot striped marlin, saying, “Damn, I should have done that.” Yes, you should have. When you go, bring a 12-weight rod. I prefer the Redington Predator Salt paired with a Redington Grande reel. Something about that champagne-colored Grande has me feeling funny inside, but the blue is sexy too. I don’t say that just because this is a Redington blog, but because my Predator Salt has survived four trips already. Redington rods are simply durable, and they have the backbone you need to battle these pelagic beasts. Also, the Grande can take a beating and keep on ticking. I have two of them, and the drag just works. This is a drag setting you’d never believe you’d set on a fly reel. Tight. Crank that drag down tight. Don’t forget to pair that up with a 500-grain RIO Elite Leviathan line. This line sinks fast, and when you get your double haul down, you can get the flies where they need to be as fast as your hungover self will let you.

Also, if you don’t bring spares of everything out there, you’re destined to be up mierda creek without a paddle. There are no fly shops out there, and when you fight 100-pound-plus fish, your gear is destined to be compromised. In two trips, I’ve only broken a reel handle, and that was because I banged it too hard on the boat when I was climbing around the panga, too excited to cast at bait balls getting blasted by a big-ass fish with swords on their heads. Especially if you’re drinking too much tequila. Damn tequila.

You’ll also want to bring a 10-weight for the mangroves and beaches in case the wind blows you off the open ocean. Golden trevally, roosterfish, bay bass, corbina, snook, pargo, triggerfish, and many other species can be had as a placeholder until the wind blows over. Oh, don’t forget to bring a first aid kit and super glue in case a 10/0 hook ends up in your hand. It happened to me. Luckily, we had pliers, and luckily we had the super glue, so I could keep on fishing after we popped the hook out. I don’t know what we would have done if those pliers weren’t there. Again, bad stuff will happen when you drink tequila in the open ocean. I suggest you wait on the drinking until you’re back on dry land, or simply don’t drink at all. This trip will beat your ass. When I first started going to Mag Bay, I was all about the Mexico party as well. Now, I wait until I get back home.

So what’s it like to fish Mag Bay? I’ll get there. Let’s talk about the food first. See, I own Taco Fly Co., a fly fishing company that celebrates the love for tacos as much as fly fishing.

To me, the food we eat on trips is as important as the fishing, and Mag Bay has wonderful food. Rare chocolate clams dressed in Tajín, salt, hot sauce, and lime juice. Rare scallops, sashimi, ceviche, camarones, micheladas, agua chile, street tacos, and did I mention rare chocolate clams? Expect to eat well. Whether you’re staying at one of the few lodges that the outfitters hook you up with or if you DIY your way into the Disneyland of pelagic ocean fishing, you’re going to eat well. Fresh ingredients and fresh seafood.

Puerto San Carlos is the town you’ll be staying in, a nice two-and-a-half-hour drive from the Loreto airport. San Carlos is a fishing town, so expect very fresh seafood everywhere you go. Well, actually, if you know where to look. Did I say birria tacos yet? Oh my… I suggest Tiburón, a restaurant I dream about frequently. Late-night street tacos on random streets off the beaten path? Check. They’ve got them, and they’re bomb. I suggest baby wipes, though, and remember, don’t drink the water in Mexico unless it comes out of a plastic bottle.

Okay, the fishing. If you don’t practice casting your 12-weight before you get there, you’re dumb. I am not a mean person, but I have to say that if you show up green on the 12-weight setup, you’ve shown the locals how dumb us Americans can be. The captain might look at you and judge you immediately but not say a word about how lame it is that you have a pile of marlin 30 feet away crushing bait and you can’t cast that far. I mean, you can catch them at the boat, but please practice casting your 12-weight before you go. I am asking nicely. Please practice before you go. I am all about sucking at fly fishing, but this is a time when I suggest not sucking as much as I do. Practice. Take a big breath and get ready.

I have to say, I love bobber fishing. You probably already know this if you follow Taco Fly Co. on social media, and next to that, I love casting 12-weights. I’ve cast at permit before. It’s fun, but boring. Yes, I said it. Permit can be, and tend to be, boring. Quote me on that. Honestly, I can’t stand it most of the time. Those fish are picky and timid. Boring. There is something about chucking these 12-weights with 80-pound fluorocarbon leader and an eight-inch fly at the end of it that makes me feel funny inside. I just don’t get that feeling about permit fishing. There I go again, feeling funny inside about fly fishing. It’s madness. Marlin madness.

The idea is to chase the bait balls by searching for birds while holding onto the lean bar on the panga hoping you don’t fall off into the open ocean. As you charge into the air barrage of birds, you attempt to get a cast from either the back or front of the boat while the fish are blasting on anchovies, sardines, or mackerel. When you get to that bait ball, you hope you don’t blow the cast and drop the line as you’re stripping it in. You just want to get a grab. Keep that fly moving, be chill in the chaos, and hold on. These grabs are gnarly. Whether it’s a mahi-mahi, a striped marlin, or a yellowfin tuna, I guarantee you’re going to scream some explicit words coming from deep down when you hook up. It’s madness. One of the rad things about Mag Bay is that sometimes you never know what’s going to be on the bait ball until you start stripping your fly and see a lit-up fish following it, pissed off and ready to take you for a wild ride. No matter what it is, it’s madness. Did I say that already?

When you get the grab, be sure you are safe. What I mean is don’t let the line wrap around your appendages when the fish takes off in the other direction at 100 miles an hour, because you might either lose one of those appendages or get wrapped up and dragged into the ocean, never to be seen again. Then you won’t be able to eat those chocolate clams or drink that tequila on the dock ever again. Okay, maybe I am being dramatic, but that can happen. Don’t worry, you’ll be alright. Just hold on. Hold on for dear life as this pelagic wild animal takes you on the ride of your life. Mahi-mahi jump like crazy. Tuna barrel down and do death circles. Striped marlin do all of the above. Pelagic fishing on the fly rod is nuts. I’m not saying it’s better than your favorite type of fishing. I’m just saying it’s nuts and a lot better than permit fishing. It’s madness and might make you feel funny inside.

By day five, you’ll be wrecked from the rough rides on the pangas, the blasting to the bait balls, the battles on the fly rods, and the hangovers, and you’ll be screaming for more. I wish I never left. I wish I was there right now. But with anything, if we do it too much, we don’t appreciate it as much. And Mag Bay is just that. It’s enough. As one captain once said to me, “Es todo,” which in English translates to, “It’s everything.” Enough of everything, and a lot better than fishing for those stupid permit.

Disclaimer: The author loves permit fishing but just sucks at fly fishing. Blame the angler, not the fish.