Panama

      I was cleaning one of the few fish we shot, dropping the cuttings over the side of the panga as I worked. A school of gull like birds came swooping in for the free meal.  Like a cat, Michelle leaned out and made a mid-air grab on one of the birds. Then she proudly held it up as game for the icebox. She wanted to clean it and bag it up for the grill. I told her it was not good to eat, but who knows, it could be the wahoo of the sky.  A few days later, at home, she put a bullet through a raccoon-like animal that was after our chickens. I had a hell of a time keeping that stinky thing out of the icebox. On the first day of our most recent dive trip, Michelle and our new panga driver, swam in to the beach for coconuts, and came back with our first game of the trip, an iguana, full of eggs. She would have tossed me over the side before the iguana. Clean him and bag him up. With a choice of granola bars or raw iguana eggs for breakfast I had to whimp out and go with the grano. For those that grew up in the country, like Michelle, where there is a shortage of food, everything moving, looks like a possible meal, be it iguanas, snakes, rodents or birds. And now, with her new spearfishing skills and hunting grounds, Michelle loves to be the hunter-provider for her mother and other relatives that live in the boon docks.  They, otherwise would never get to enjoy eating fish. With a trip to the interior coming up, it was time to hunt. If successful, she would return home, again carrying in a cooler of frozen fish, by horse back. Then at night, as the fish were being fried over an outdoors, open fire,  Michelle would enchant all the kids and adults with stories and pictures of what it is like to hunt, on a breath hold, deep in the ocean world. Since there is no electricity and no TV, people from all around show up to hear their own Michelle, who has returned, like Wonder Woman, with tales of travel, danger,  magic, and marvels..

      Hopefully this dive trip will be more successful than our last one, about two weeks ago. The alternator of the rented panga failed four hours out, on the first day. Three days and four tows later, we finally got back to port and never got to shoot one fish. What a disaster.  For this trip, we had our own boat, but a new driver we had to teach, as he had never been on the ocean. He was tough and learned a lot, but I think the main thing he learned is that being sea sick for five days is hell. Amazingly, he could still function being sick and not eating, but he was really happy to start coming out of it on the 5th day.

        After just a couple of hours in the water on the first day we could tell that we would be lucky to get any fish. The cold water and sardines that bring the big fish had never materialized this year, but the worst part was the dirty water. The top 10 or 15 feet was OK and then we entered into a snowstorm of suspended plankton with vis of 4 or 5 feet. It got darker and colder as we went down and at 25 feet, we could not see, or be seen. As often happens with diving, just when I was sure there were no fish, and I was in the clear water on my way up, forty pounds of Mr. Bohala, materialized out of the murk below and came to check me out. BAM!   Almost stoned. It was a beautiful fish and I was stoked to know that there were actually some fish around and that we would take something home besides iguana eggs and legs.

         The next day there was no clear upper layer, so if we saw anything at all, it would be too close to extend the gun. We would have to Hip Shoot. I learned long ago in my military days, in times of lots of freedom and free ammo, that shooting from the hip is fun———but, you are probably NOT going to hit what you are aiming at. Hip shooting at 25 yards with a semi auto rifle, you can hardly ever hit a 12 inch circle. You are either high or low. On past trips I saw Michelle completely miss two record fish, simply because she did not raise the gun to eye level and sight down the barrel. A hip shot is a bad idea, but when there is no other choice, you make exceptions. We almost got shut out on this second day but Michelle made a hip shot on a forty pound Bohala that she could barely see, five feet away.  The shot went low, but it was still a holding shot, and it was the payoff for staring into the plankton snow storm for hours.

         The next day we went out to deeper water in hopes of finding more visibility, but it was still hip-shot conditions.  We managed to put three more Bohala in the boat.   I shot high on a 37 lb fish but landed it and Michelle followed up with a 35 pounder. The third fish was in the boat and I thought he was stoned, but when I picked him up to clean him——he gave two powerful flips, came out of my hands and went over the side. Another lesson you think I would have learned by now.  

        On one of the rock piles that came up to 55 feet, I maxed out for me at about 42 feet, and passed the snow storm layer and entered into the clear, cold water of the bottom.  I think it was the only time I pierced the veil, and everything was suddenly clear and magnificent. A nice pargo dienton came from behind me and I shot too quickly. BAM!  I almost missed, but the slip tip held, and I was able to get him up as there was no structure big enough for him to hide in.  He was a nice fish weighing 45 lbs and I was lucky to have only bent the spear and not lost it.  Then we went to one place nearby where we found many small crimson snappers, but they were wary and hard to approach. Michelle put a good shot on one and then it was time to head back to our night anchorage for showers and sandwiches before it got dark.

        As this was the dry season in the Perlas, there is not water easily available, so we have to carry some water for showers.  Shower plus drinking water for three people for five days can weigh a lot, so we have to conserve on the showers. Also I like to have some emergency water just in case of problems. Earlier this year three local panga fishermen we know, had motor problems, and were lost drifting around for four weeks. They only survived because of two unexpected rain storms and two turtles they grabbed. With us having only one motor and being 70-80 miles from Panama, things could go wrong, so I have to remind Michelle of why we take short showers. But after hours of being in a wetsuit, there is nothing as refreshing and welcome as a fresh water shower, standing in the open, on the swim step, and then air drying in the warm wind. What a delightful way to end a fun day of diving!

      On the forth day, after Michelle and I each shot matching 36 pound Bohalas, and we decided that was enough, and I did not want to clean any more fish. We then went to some places that we had shot big fish in the past but nobody was home. We found some shallow places where the water was relatively clear and nice diving but without the bait the big boys were not there. It was time to head back North a couple of hours, to find a place to anchor up so that we would be closer to home for the long run the next day.

        As we awoke to gentle early morning winds, we decided we had time to take a detour and go by a place we had seen mero before, but only when we were not carrying a gun.  The water was clear, there was lots of bait and then we saw a nice mero in the depths. We went back to the boat, made our plans and attached Tim’s big orange buoy to our float line, just in case, and went back to see if we could find the fish again.  We were hoping for a shot from above, to hit him between the eyes and about four inches back, for a stone shot, but that did not happen.  Instead, Michelle dove to his level, took her time slowly approaching the fish, extended the gun and waited for the precise moment and——BAM———- Perfect shot, broadside, just behind the eye.  She headed up and out toward deep water pulling the fish away from the rocks.  The fish was stoned and could barely move and as soon as she had him up to 20 feet and away from the rocks, I knew the fish was hers. Michelle was stoked as this was her second mero and though not a monster, it was still a nice fish. We pulled the 54 lb fish in the boat and headed for the canal and we would work out the fish cleaning when we got home.

        Arriving back at the entrance to the Panama canal, where the big ships are anchored up awaiting passage, always brings a sigh of relief and gratitude. We know we are always pushing the envelope, and to get home alive and in one piece, with coolers full on fish,  after five long days at sea in a tiny boat, always feels fantastic. The ocean offers both great adventure and great risks and it is with gratitude that we know that we slid under the wire yet again, and encountered no major storms, sea snakes, sharks, mechanical problems, injuries, pirates, floating logs or shortage of shower water for Michelle.  May we all continue to enjoy and share the bounty of nature, avoid hip shots, and be open to the continual flow of grace protecting us and flowing good into our lives.

Dix and Michelle Roper
    March 25, 2010
    dixroper@earthlink.net