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Author: Subject: Fishing with the Famous
Osprey
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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 09:34 AM
Fishing with the Famous


This is probably a good time to put in another disclaimer for newbies: Jorge is a Fiction writer.

Fishing with The Famous


A very long time ago I spent a week on a charter fishing boat out of La Paz. One of my fellow fishermen was a hospital administrator and another was a surgeon. As the trip began I was much put off by the abusive personality of the doctor but the hospital admin guy set me straight and put me in the mood to fish and enjoy. He explained that many people in the medical trade have a parent-child relationship with the world and over time take on a very imperious persona. He averred that once away from their natural environs they are often uncomfortable (unable to exert power over every condition) and instead of being the overbearing parent, become the child – reverse roles as it were.

He was dead on and by the end of the trip the doctor personality had completely disappeared and the doc was asking each of us and others advice about almost everything involving fishing, accommodations and travel.

I try to remember that lesson now that I’m guiding for those of fame and fortune down here at East Cape. I’m not really all that sure about how I got into the fame game – it was more word of mouth than it was internet hype or connections. At least that’s what most of my clients tell me. Whatever it was I’m the luckier for it because I make a good living at it with a nice superpanga, a portadock which I share with four other charters and solid arrangements with transportation package providers in Los Cabos.

The word is out with many cliques of my silver screen heroes that East Cape is the place to fish and Jorge is the guy to go out with. My people do not need a yacht full of flunkies in white uniforms peeling grapes and shaking up martinis – my little 24 foot boat, some cold beer and sandwiches, fishing with their buddies for dorado and sailfish is what rings their bells. I don’t accept tips and I don’t allow my clients to tip the beach help who handle the portable dock, clean and wrap the fish, ice it down in coolers and haul the fish carcasses to the dump. That’s all on my website so the clients know they won’t have to worry about how much to pay if this happens, if that happens, etc. So they have no worries about autograph seekers or paparazzi – they can be themselves, don’t have anybody to please, don’t have to go in their pockets for a dime. They know everybody gets treated the same. No special handling, just fishermen on board. Popular young women of the screen and the tube usually want more creature comforts than my package offers – I wouldn’t key on any Tug Boat Annie types so I’ll just stick with my growing list of bored actors who like Mexico and fishing.

Over time I’ve been able to cash in on how to handle famous people who are:

Temporarily (for a few hours) totally out of the limelight. Just them and me and the fish.

Definitely not in control.

Being judged only for their ability to take instructions, behave civilly and safely at sea.

When they step on the boat for the first time it’s not easy for me and it’s not easy for them. I have to stifle my awe while being friendly but in-charge. They have to be as gracious as famous folks can get while getting acquainted with all the things of the strange and wonderful world of fishing, its rules and equipment, the sea and its joys and perils. Even those who have been life long fishermen know that every kind of fishing is different from every other, every venue has its own risks and opportunities and every day at sea is a little different from the one before.

Almost all of these guys come to my boat as they are in their own kitchen or garage – no rugs, no wardrobe, no little rat terriers, no trick gear, no epaulets, just Joe Six Pack looking to catch some fish. No booze allowed on board – six beers, water, juice and pop are in the cooler when they get aboard. The only trouble I’ve had with any of these guys is when they get too competitive one with the other. Some of that is appropriate and necessary but too much can make them break the rules and once they get started with that, trouble is usually just around the corner. In the cooler are lunches for us – salads for vegans, burritos and tacos for others.

I begin the charter by calling them Mister and I only use their first names when they insist. When they go over the line with the competition I go back to Mister and cool my demeanor. Works like a charm. These are people persons and they pick up on every nuance from those close by.

I’ll recall some memorable charters for you. I can use their names because none of this stuff will ever end up in the Enquirer or those other rags because it’s a yawner for most of the public but maybe of interest to Baja lovers, fishermen and film fans. I get mostly west coast people – not many east coast actors would go so far out of their way with all the other options available to them unless a trip down here was worked in with acting work in Hollywood. Some of the Tribeca group wouldn’t fish with me anyhow. Mickey Rourke won’t go anywhere without his dogs so he couldn’t book with me.

Actors are only interesting in their roles. If I had on board some young hotshot screen idol whose movies were unknown to me, the magic wouldn’t work. Put another way: let’s say five years ago I gained popularity by wearing a striking but comfortable marlin suit when I fished. Say I billed myself as Jorge The Marlin Man and then six months ago abandoned the plan and the costume. That’s the same letdown – where is the clown, the actor, the interest? So it turns out, the most interesting of my cinema star clients were the ones I saw the most of on the screen or the tube.

John Malkovic

He showed up in the regular van from Cabo with a friend – no black car, limo or Rolls. They both had day bags and were wearing shorts, tshirts and baseball caps. They were smart enough to wear boat shoes, not flip flops. His friend, Ernie something, was a little younger than the actor but you could tell they were very close buddies and spent a lot of time together. They were relaxed and friendly from the jump and I supposed they were experienced fishermen because they seemed to be pleased with the bait, the choice of lures and the gear as I deployed to troll.

I made the obligatory ‘what’s biting lately’ speech and didn’t even finish it before the bait rod went off and the actor pulled in a barrilete for the tuna tube for marlin once we got out a ways. Thirty minutes later Ernie pulled in a 25 pound dorado and they both agreed to release it after I got some pix with their cameras of both of them with it. They did some good natured kidding about the size and the time to bring it in but luckily it was on a bait rod with 20 pound test and Ernie did a good job without any help from yours truly or his actor pal.

At 10:30 Malkovic hooked up a nice sailfish but it was on a marlin rig with 80 pound test and the fish was overpowered to the boat in no time. Ernie barely had time to get his high tech camera out of the bag to shoot the jumps. They didn’t seem to mind and the fish was released in really good shape so it was time for high-fives and cold beer.

While the actor was hooked up and having the time of his life I was having even more fun. As he strained and laughed and huffed, keeping the line taught I was seeing his face take on the characters he was famous for portraying – his maniacally calm posture trying to kill the president in In the Line of Fire the controlled violence we felt in our stomachs as he played Ripley in Ripley’s Game.

Ernie caught and released a stripped marlin about 130 pounds and the two men each caught another dorado, one about 35 pounds, the other about 40. With their own cameras they took pictures of themselves, me, the boys, the boat, the beach and they waited and chatted while the boys filleted the fish for the coolers. Good charter because they said they would definitely be back.

Antonio Banderas

I only had a couple days notice from my agent on this one to think about Banderas and I was really looking forward to it. The agency said he would be fishing with Stella Banderas (for the licenses) and I assumed that was his wife. Turns out his wife is Melanie Griffith, the actress and Stella is their daughter, age 15. The charter with the dashing Spaniard was the charter from hell. I would rather have put up with Rourke’s mini yappers.

They were both friendly and in the mood for a day on the water. I got the feeling very early on that this father-daughter outing was a rare occasion thing and daddyo was trying his damndest to make the best of it. Can’t fault him for that and I was determined to give him some help. My help would come by way of me trying very hard not to throw the bouncy little blonde off the stern into the props. The girl was loaded down with brow and nose rings, cheeks and ears full of diamonds. She was all over the boat snapping a zillion pictures, talking a mile a minute to who the hell knows while texting to mobs of teens everywhere there are handheld gadgets and plastic cards. Clients can take all the pictures they want but I have no cameras on the boat and I don’t allow any with my guys on the beach. Never had a problem with ogglers when we came back in.

She wanted some kind of flavored, scented water that must come from Alpha Centauri and was very upset with daddy and me that she couldn’t get it. Banderas told her where the bear shat in the buckwheat vis a vis her behavior but she knew she had the neglected child card and walked right over him several times. At one point she said “Where’s the markets and malls Cap E Tan? Where do you get your stuff? Who could live here?”

She fought a dorado for a minute or two to please her father, handed him the rod then got right back on the show the world on my phone routine. She grabbed a salad from the cooler, threw most of it overboard and on the deck because “I need the Balsamic, not this gooey stuff’. Are these three all the same with the gooey?” As much as all this was grinding on me I reminded myself that Zorro was sitting in my fighting chair pulling in a nice little sailfish and with that I got through the day. Antonio’s parting handshake, thank you and gestures told me he knew about the no tipping thing but that I might be pleasantly surprised to wake up one morning and find a little red Ferrari in my driveway for putting up with Stella. Could there be a reason she was neglected? Wait, the reason for that is that she was neglected! What a conundrum.

Denis Leary

Dennis was a fun charter although we didn’t catch any marlin or sail. Some high thin clouds had moved in and squashed the sea down to a flat gray skillet. We could move at warp speed, chase everything that moved.

He was with a guy named Don something, a character actor I think, who he called Buddy. Buddy is all over the tube but no major roles. As soon as I told Leary my grand parents were both from County Cork, the trip was more about me and the Irish than it was about fishing. Leary seemed to wander into and out of some unknown zones because he would be quipping and talking non stop, then suddenly go quiet, rest his eyes a minute, take some water and almost nap with his eyes open. Buddy talked a lot about the old Finesterra where they stayed in Cabo, about the big palapa by the pools.

They took a lot of pictures of the huge herds of common dolphin that were spread out all over Palmas Bay. They took turns trying to touch them when the big animals came close to get into the bow and boat waves. I ran almost all the way down to Gordo Banks because it was so smooth under the clouds and we did get two nice amberjack in a boat group south of Frailes. We released those and then caught some big pompano and three nice dorado on the way back in. To top off a good morning there was still some bait left and I chummed and cruised slow inside and they got two throwback toros and two big roosters.

Leary was on most of the time, kidding, joking about everything; Mexico, the drug thing, the cartels, the fishing, mugging for me and Buddy. All the while I had a hard time seeing him as anything but the always troubled fireman, the wisecracking standup or the consummate actor bringing films like The Ref to life and making them hilarious drama.

While the boys were filleting the dorado and pompano Leary started to reach in his pocket to tip them, saw my look, stopped and said “Jorge, you have no heart. Hey, there could be some Irish in these boys, you know, snuck off the pirate ships. How they gonna get enough money ahead to buy a boat like yours. Hey, now I get it.” Then I saw a big patented Leary grin.

[Edited on 5-16-2011 by Osprey]
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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 03:31 PM


Jorge captures the very spirit of the charter captain which is what I was discussing on the thread started by Blanca at La Bocana. There are lots of things going on and more than meets the eye, but my friend Jorge captures all of this with the story, which in the end is much more instructive.



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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 03:48 PM


Good story Jorge, thanks.....dt



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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 04:08 PM


Another one out of the park. Thanks.



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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 04:12 PM


Pescadore, thanks for that. I think charter captains everywhere sure earn their pay. Not easy >> two very different animals, fish and people. In Mexico most captains live on their tips so when I charter, we catch a fish, they do all the good things to help, they get their tip right there and then. That way they don't have to spend the whole day wondering about it. Selfish on my part really because I'm saying "Please" more than "Thank you". I can always add to it at the end of the day if it's warranted.

DT,
1. you're getting more mello every day or
2. you know I don't consider cacahuate a dog

Either way you didn't mention the Rourke thing.

Blanca and Les, I was working on this little piece before I saw your post about the panga/charter. Was not connected in any way. My 22 footer is old, clumsy and safe. Overall the most stable fishing platform for this area a guy could ever want.



[Edited on 5-16-2011 by Osprey]
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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 06:18 PM


Jorge:::::


I thought you were out of the charter fishing thing because of the lack of properly equipped fishing gear.
Good thing this is fiction, buddy! I would have thought you were living the high-life!


DT
We'll be down your way right after Christmas this year. Can't wait to spend some time with the only fishing dog in the world!

I'm getting lots of U2U's now that everyone South knows when I'm coming down. Although I'm pretty sure that Stan Houck will be in East Cape at the same time.
My main purpose for the trip is to spy some beachfront spots for our RV (in addition to kayak launching and a bird aviary.




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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 07:26 PM


I'm sure we will be here around Christmas and after udo, be sure to let me know when you are coming so that we can get together....

Jorge, nobody considers Cacahuate a dog.....not a "real dog" anyway. We've taken her out on a couple of fishing trips and the topic of using her for bait always comes up......usually before we even leave the dock.....dt




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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 08:07 PM


great story ... it made me realize how hard it must be to be a captain ...

Les did it for a while when we first moved here, but not any more ....

Keep 'em coming Osprey.





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[*] posted on 5-16-2011 at 09:16 PM


That is STYLE
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