By Paul Lebowitz

Tucked away on the northern Baja coast is a hidden sportfishing jewel. You’d never know it as you drive through the mountains along Mexico Highway 1 south of Ensenada, but Castro’s Camp awaits down that paved road to Erendira. This long-running family operation is a pleasant surprise, with well equipped superpangas crewed by highly seasoned local fishermen.

Not only are the boats comfortable, so are the Camp’s cabins, and it is all bargain-priced. A weekend here with family or friends costs less than $45 per person each day for fishing and accommodations.

Think of Castro’s Camp as accessibly remote. Accessible because it takes just a few hours to get here from the border, and all but the last two miles are on paved roads. Remote, as it sits far from major harbors in the midst of the cool nutrient rich waters that upwell from deep below the surface from Punta Banda to points south, creating a marine environment reminiscent of Northern California.

Befitting a cold water fishery, rockfish are the staple. Yet pelagic gamefish do migrate through the area too, so bonito, barracuda, yellowtail, and white seabass are sometimes on the menu. On a recent spring Sunday my fishing partner Al Silebi and I were fishing seven miles offshore on Ubaldo Romero’s comfortable 26-foot Castro’s Camp superpanga.

Tap, tap. I could distinctly feel the strike at the other end of the 200 feet of Spectra. I reeled into the next tap as I swung the rod upwards in a short arc. The rod tip quivered with the satisfying weight of a fish. Before long I was showing off a nearly cherry red 15-inch vermillion rockfish. Silebi was grinning minutes later as he doubled my effort with his own couple of reds.

We’d spent the prior night camped on the bluffs overlooking Puerto San Isidoro, lulled to a deep sleep by the song of the surf. The first light woke us, so we were ready when Romero came by, his boat towed behind an old yellow tractor. We loaded up our gear, and then watched as the tractor lumbered down the steeply angled launch ramp.

The tractor stopped the boat briefly on the small shingle beach so we could climb on board without getting our feet wet. Then it pulled the trailer around and backed us stern first into the small surf until we floated off. Romero fired up the new 4-stroke Johnson outboard. He threaded his way through the stringers of kelp that seem to grow here right up to the beach. Then, as waves crashed over jagged rocks to either side of us, he steered us out through a narrow gap in the reef that shelters the tiny harbor. 

As he piloted his superpanga, Romero sang in Spanish. His song seemed as somber as the gray skies overhead. If Romero’s old song harkened back to earlier days, his boat certainly did not. In addition to the new engine, the spacious boat sported a fishfinder, GPS, and VHF radio. About the only modern amenities it lacked were a powered bait well and a head. The GPS came immediately into play as rolled up on some likely white seabass numbers.

Unfortunately we could see the water was too cold and off-color, but we stopped anyway. We knew the conditions weren’t right, but had to make an effort after seeing the dozens of photos posted in the camp office. In each, a smiling angler or two was struggling to hoist a trophy croaker. We hopefully jigged our irons until Romero told us we should return in June or July, the prime local months for white seabass or yellowtail.

In company with another boat or two of the 7-panga Castro’s fleet, we motored farther out to sea until we could no longer see land. Romero navigated us to another spot marked on his GPS. As we glanced over his shoulder at the jagged line on the sonar display we could easily make out the promising bottom topography. It was time to look for lingcod and rockfish on a number of reefs varying from 100 to 225 feet deep.

If bottom fishing is not exactly complicated, it sure is rewarding afterwards when the tasty morsels hit the dinner plate. The methods are elementary. The most efficient and simple technique is to take a length of 30 to 50-pound monofilament line, rig a couple of dropper loops, tie on baitholder hooks, then add a torpedo sinker to the bottom. Use enough weight to easily feel the bottom and get down quickly. If there isn’t much current or wind, 8-ounces should be sufficient. Attach your rockcod rig to your main line with a swivel to minimize line twist. Braided lines such as Spectra, with their excellent vibration transmission and lack of stretch, are helpful but traditional mono main lines work fine too. Romero supplied the bait; squid or chunked sardines and mackerel.

It didn’t take long to fill out nice Mexican limits of assorted rockfish. Unfortunately the lingcod were a no-show. There was one close call. Once when I was dropping a bait down I felt weak tail beats then a solid weight as soon as the lead hit bottom. As I started reeling the weight lessened. Eventually I pulled in a savaged, gouged and bloodied but still quivering mackerel. It must have climbed on as I was letting my bait down. I’d bet I pulled it right out of the jaws of a ling. Next time we’ll have to try live bait on the bottom.    

TABLE FARE – Al Silebi with a beautifully patterned copper rockfish.

PURE BAJA – Castro’s Camp uses a tractor to launch their superpangas through the surf.

NO FRILLS – The accommodations at Castro's Camp are on the basic side.