Fantasy Island

The fishing around Cedros Island is similar to that in Southern California, but the yellowtail, calico bass, white sea bass, halibut and barracuda are bigger, stronger and meaner. After my August visit to this craggy, arid Pacific island about midway down the Baja Peninsula and 40 miles off the coast, I’d say Cedros Island is like SoCal fishing on acid.

I marveled at acres of sardines roiling the surface with such ferocity that the melee sounded like a raging downpour. I caught two trophy calico bass on a two-hook stick bait. But the capper was a school of ravenous yellowtail that surrounded a blue shark and forced it to the surface, where they repeatedly rammed its belly with their noses, making the shark cough up its last meal for them to devour. It was like watching a piscatorial version of chess club nerds turning the table on the school bully and stealing his lunch. This was my first day of fishing here, and I was sober as a judge.

Such eye-popping scenes are routine in the waters surrounding Isla de Cedros. The island was designated a Mexican Biosphere Reserve in 2016, protecting and managing the abundant marine resources “for the benefit of the local community.” The island is off limits to the fleet of San Diego-based long-range boats that once made these grounds a mainstay for five- to seven-day trips. My only previous visit to Cedros was aboard one of these luxury sportfishers in the 1990s, and while the fishing was very good, it wasn’t the immersive experience you get exploring these waters from a 27-foot panga.

Motoring up to a school of feeding fish, I waited for the ideal moment to cast my Salas 7X jig, which arced into a graceful rainbow and splashed down about 20 feet past the surface activity. After waiting a few seconds for the lure to sink, I threw my conventional reel in gear and began a steady crank back to the boat. I watched as the lure — a category of lightweight metal casting jig known as a “light iron” — kicked wildly from side-to-side, flashing away a foot beneath the surface. About 10 turns of the handle later, my lure stopped as if it snagged the rear bumper of a passing car, the 8-inch, mint-green piece of metal disappearing in a giant swirl.

For anglers like me, who count California yellowtail — a hard-fighting member of the jack family — among their favorite Pacific gamefish, sight-casting iron into the action is the stuff of fantasy. For four straight days, we pulled up on acres of ocean whipped into a froth of swirls, diving gulls and waves of fleeing baitfish taking to the air. Time after time, we’d fire into the chaos with lures, each encounter ending the same way — three anglers with sore arms, tired backs and shit-eating grins.

With two or three anglers per boat, each group can work with the skipper to target their favorite fish and area. While Cedros offers excellent fishing for halibut, white sea bass, bonito and barracuda, most anglers come here for two things: yellowtail and kelp bass, also known as calico bass. The fishing for these two species is as good as it gets. Massive schools of 30-plus-pound yellowtail prowl rocky structure and the edges of kelp beds in search of sardines and mackerel, pushing prey to the surface and creating a target-rich environment for eagle-eyed skippers.

Yellowtail are targeted in a variety of ways depending on the bite and conditions. In addition to casting and retrieving surface lures, heavier “yo-yo” iron is also effective when the fish are feeding deep. This technique involves depth-charging the lure to the bottom and reeling it to the surface as quickly as possible. Keep reeling right until the end, as a big yellowtail will often track the lure from the depths and suddenly grab it right below the boat. Such boatside antics can unglue even the most composed angler.

When yellows aren’t biting, pangeros often turn to slow-trolling live mackerel. Big 7/0 hooks and 60- to 80-pound test may sound heavy, but you’ll need it. Pangas troll over rocky high spots, and stout gear, strong arms and buttoned-down drags are required to keep these powerful fish from earning their freedom in the rocks. When the bite gets tough — it can even happen here — boats will pull deep-diving Rapalas and swimming plugs to connect with fish.

Southern California calico bass anglers might fish a lifetime hoping for one 7- or 8-pounder; it’s possible to eclipse that several times a day at Cedros. As with yellowtail, bass can also be targeted in a variety of ways. One is casting and retrieving the same light-iron lures used for yellowtail. Another, more popular technique is throwing plastic swimbaits. Plastic paddle tails are threaded on weedless lead heads of 1 or 2 ounces or rigged weightless and weedless using an offset hook. The key is finding and working open casting lanes among the island’s dense kelp forests. Current often sets the bass off on a full-blown feeding frenzy, and when it’s strong enough to push the kelp below the surface, lures can be worked over the tops of the strands. It is exciting to see a hulking, dark brown bull calico — sometimes several — dart from the billowing strands to crush a lure.

LOGISTICS

To fish Cedros, you must book one of the few lodges that specialize in bringing gringos to the island. I stayed at Cedros Sportfishing. While guests are well cared for on Cedros, it’s an entirely different experience than more “Americanized” destinations like Cabo San Lucas, La Paz or Loreto. Those places offer ancillary activities in addition to fishing, such as clubs, spas, shopping and high-end resorts. The itinerary at Cedros is simple: fish, eat, sleep, repeat.

The adventure begins when you meet your group at the U.S.-Mexico border. Two obstacles that had me nervous leading up to this trip — crossing the border and flying on a small plane out of Tijuana — went very smoothly, thanks to Rosie Flowers, who serves as Cedros Sportfishing’s U.S.-based general manager. She manages the booking, handles the pretrip communications, arranges and organizes everybody’s fishing permits and multinational travel documents, and meets each group at the border to shepherd them into Mexico and back to the States with minimal stress.

Anglers headed to Cedros Sportfishing unload their luggage and tackle at the Cross Border Xpress terminal in San Diego, park in the secure lot and follow Rosie’s caravan of luggage carts to the security checkpoint. After walking the 400-foot, enclosed bridge that crosses the border, you emerge in the Tijuana Airport. Here, a Mexican representative of the lodge guides the group through customs. Your bags, tackle and rods are then loaded on a 12-passenger Cessna Caravan for the flight to the island.

It’s a tight fit aboard the single-engine plane, with scores of 7- to 9-foot rods stacked like cordwood in the aisle. Rods can be bundled and wrapped in soft coverings, but the limited space doesn’t allow for tubes. You really shouldn’t fret about your expensive rods getting damaged — everything and everybody is wedged in tightly when you lift off for the two-hour flight south.

Stepping off the plane, we found ourselves in a land seemingly forgotten by time. Hard-working people greet you with genuine enthusiasm and make your enjoyment of their humble homeland a priority. They welcome tourism, to be sure, but it’s clearly deeper than that. Locals are truly happy to see new faces, in a way that’s particular to people who live on an isolated island.

Cedros Sportfishing operates two cliffside lodges, each offering comfortable accommodations for 12 anglers. While the buildings are modest, each comes with a million-dollar view of the Pacific. Guests are treated to panoramic sunsets as they rig rods, sharpen hooks and prep gear for the next day.

Cedros Sportfishing founders Adrian Ojeda and Tom Green launched the first lodge on the island. Both were spotter pilots based on Cedros, paid by commercial fishing operations to locate offshore tuna schools. Each time they would take off and land, they were amazed at the massive schools of bait and gamefish closer to shore. They acquired their first property in 2008 and began running trips with local commercial fishermen as pangeros. They opened a second lodge in 2021, allowing the operation to accommodate up to 24 anglers.

My trip included four nights lodging and four days of fishing, round-trip airfare, permits and visas, and every lodge expense, except for gratuities, for $2,950. If you want an adult beverage after fishing, however, you’ll have to bring your own or visit the local liquor store.

Anglers are rallied at 5 a.m. for a hearty, hot breakfast. As you eat, your lunch order and fishing gear is loaded aboard a panga. Returning to the lodge after fishing, you’re treated to appetizers on the patio to hold your appetite off until the evening family-style dinner.

The lodge provides professional-grade fish processing, vacuum-packing and freezing of your catch, as well as soft coolers to transport fish from the island. You are limited to a total of 72 pounds of luggage, excluding rods. Most people leave behind their heavy lures, sinkers and hooks for the captains and local anglers to make room to carry processed fish home on the return flight.

Cedros Island Sportfishing takes this maximum weight seriously, as the airport’s short runway leaves little margin for error. The lodge staff weighs your luggage and gear the morning of departure, which determines how many pounds of frozen filets you can stuff in a soft cooler.

LIFE ON CEDROS

During the ride from the airport to the lodge and subsequent tours through the town, I learned much from our driver and lodge host Felipe Laureano about what life is like for the roughly 3,000 residents of this 134-square-mile island. Aside from fishing tourism, there are two main drivers of the local economy — commercial fishing, primarily for spiny lobster and abalone, and the island’s massive salt-shipping operation.

The Mexican government and Mitsubishi Corp. essentially built the town of Puerto Morro Redondo to house salt workers. The salt arrives nightly aboard barges from evaporation ponds at Guerrero Negro on the Baja Peninsula. With no deep-water ports for ships to load the salt directly, it is brought to Cedros Island, where it is offloaded and bulldozed into literal “salt mountains” until it can be loaded aboard arriving ships.

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The salt company provides electricity to developed areas of the island. I noticed large storage tanks atop our lodge and most of the homes and, given the arid climate and barren landscape, asked Felipe about the island’s water source. “There’s a big lake way up there,” Laureano said, pointing to the tallest mountain piercing the distant horizon. “Once a week, a water truck goes up there and brings down water to fill people’s tanks.”

Everything on the island came by boat, so once something is here, it tends to stay. Old tires are used as building blocks for retaining walls, and broken-down refrigerators can be lined up end-to-end to make a sturdy fence. “We don’t have much, but everybody who lives here is happy,” Laureano told me.

I can see why. As hot summer days wane into cool evenings, the beach and marina fill with locals diving off the jetty and splashing in the warm water. Instead of focusing on what they might be missing in the “modern” world, the people of Cedros appreciate what they have — a simple life with friends and family and an ocean of amazing bounty in all directions.

Cedros has been entwined with fishing for thousands of years. Ancient spear points and fishhooks made from sea shells have been discovered here. This connection to the ocean remains strong today, and the local people are happy to share the bounty with visitors.

To book a trip with Cedros Sportfishing, visit cedrossportfishing.com.