My sister Katelyn had just arrived in Costa Rica. Only problem was her plane dropped her off at the wrong airport.
Katelyn was left with no other option but to travel via small boat in pitch darkness, and then find a taxi driver willing to drive her 2 hours on a dirt road through the jungle.
However my sister lives in New York City so she was well prepared for anything Costa Rica could throw at her.
Finally Katelyn arrived at the jungle house safely, and she was more than ready to take her first-ever swim in the Pacific.
I decided to accompany her, but not without my fishing pole.
Why I Always Bring A Fishing Pole
My sister and I waded out into the warm turquoise waters of the Pacific.
Katelyn began swimming around and I started making a few casts.
There were no pelicans, terns or frigates diving and searching for bait. No swirls or rises on the surface, and no mullet or blue runners cruising in the surf.
It was nearly midday and the only sign of life were a few piping plover type birds pecking away in the sand.
I was not expecting anything to happen. The day was a scorcher and the sun was radiating down on the surface of the ocean. It was quite possibly the worst time of the day to be fishing.
But 10 minutes later I had my first big hit.
"Did you see that!" I yelled to Katelyn.
"Yeah what was it?" she replied back.
"I have no idea but that fish definitely had some size" was my response.
Now this was interesting. It was nearly midday, not much was happening, but something with broad "shoulders" had just taken a swipe at my plug.
To my amazement I realized there were big fish around.
I continued casting and another 20 minutes goes by.
Katelyn starts walking out of the water, about to head back to the jungle house to rinse off the salt. I decide to stick around and make one or two more casts before calling it quits.
I heave my plug out into the surf and start a medium speed retrieve, like I have hundreds of times before.
The plug makes it half way back and then...
There is a huge fish on the line!
Drag is ripping from the reel as the giant mystery fish takes off along the surface.
At this point I am not sure what species I have on the line.
Is it a big snapper, huge snook or could it finally be the #1 fish I have been seeking during this adventure, the prized Roosterfish?
Just then the fish turns on her side and I see black stripes and the most colorful and extraordinary dorsal fin I have ever laid my eyes upon.
I had hooked a Roosterfish and it was a big one...