Something a Little Different

In life BH (before hanggliding) I used to freedive a lot. Hadn't done much recently, but a friend's 40th B-day provided an excuse for a reunion of good friends and a week of diving in Baja (Sea of Cortez side).
Seth Hopkins, Mario Korf and I flew down to stay with Chay Ochoa at his place near la Ventana, just south of LaPaz. Beautiful area, and Chay knows all the local spots. He was gracious enough to share a number of them with us.

We mostly dove from a panga at various places around Cerralvo Island. Dawn departure was the rule. First stop was to net some sardines for chum/bait. We all rolled over the edge into the wonderland. It was only 8' deep and not full of other-wordly colors like some of the coral reefs of the tropics, but teeming with life. A 20 lb roosterfish came up to greet me. With the low morning sun and sense of promise for the days ahead, we were almost giggling with pleasure.
Proceeded to dive a south-end reef called la Traversada, a mostly flat rocky expanse from 50-70 feet deep surrounded by sand. Viz was good enough to spot larger fish from the surface as they meandered in and out of their homes in the undercut ledges and cracks of the rock. I was a bit out of shape--hitting the bottom, but not getting a lot of time down there. Still, I tagged a decent pargo amarilla, as did Mario. Seth took the biggest pargo at 14 or 17 pounds. Also saw some cabrilla, but no monsters. Nice warm up diving.
Moved on to blue water, drifting over a pinnacle/reef call la Reynita several times. I saw lots of bait, and a wahoo made a brief appearance, just long enough for me to get a shot off, but didn't connect.
We had intended to dive maybe 3 or 4 days, breaking it up with a little kiteboarding at some point, but great weather/viz kept us returning for day after day, rising before dawn for coffee before the ride out, generally staying out 9 or 10 hours, most of that in the water, getting back around dusk. By the 4th day we were all pretty whipped: sunburnt, chafed, waterlogged, a little tired, peppered with little cuts and stings, but had started seeing more pelagics (tuna and wahoo), and in the end decided on one more day out. Good choice.
Day 5 turned out to be truly epic. Very light wind, almost glassy, 60-80' vis, and the fish were *in*. Most of us had never seen a wahoo in real life before this trip, and yet today we were getting schooled, often by groups of 5 or 10 at a time. Numerous times I saw a single or pair come by, and they were even bigger.
Day 4 had been frustrating for me, as I missed a good half-dozen shots. I was hunting with a Rob Allen 130 I'd used often before with good success, but I just couldn't seem to hit anything. I thought I was waiting until they were close enough in, but Seth saw one shot from above and gave me the clue: the super clear water and large fish had me pulling the trigger with the fish over 25 feet away (probably over 30' the first couple of times, and the gun's effective range is only 18 at most. I could hardly believe it, but the evidence was abundant.
Chay loaned me a gun for day 5,one of Chris' Sea Sniper masterpieces a big teak 4 band with enclosed track, ~30' range, dead-on accuracy. After several dives in which fish approached and I let them pass, I finally got the opportunity I was looking for. A pair were coming my way, with a third in the distance. I was ready--relaxed and well oxygenated. I slipped beneath the surface without spooking them, eased down to 25 feet and waited, keeping my eyes elsewhere as they slowly grew curious and drifted toward me. I was nearing the end of my breath but still held fire, determined not to repeat yesterday's mistakes. Finally two seemed within range, and were hesitating, not coming closer. I felt that moment before the penny dropped, lined up on the larger and fired. Fish and line instantly vanished in a vortex of bubbles, though I could still see the float another 30' below me. I swam after it on the surface and then began playing tug of war--it was a strong fish, might have some size. Got dunked a few more times bringing it within view again. Mario offered a second shot, but I thought mine was solid and declined. Finally swam down, got the fish in hand--it was a good one. Boated the fish, ate the heart, got a few pics. Good day. Good friends, what a life we have.