Fishing Panama With a Fly Rod is a Trip I'll Remember for the Rest of my Life

I came to Tropic Star Lodge in Panama thinking of roosterfish. Less than two hours after arriving, I was casting a fly rod to a lit-up sailfish.

A Pacific sailfish alongside the boat after being landed on an 11-weight fly rod off Panama's Pacific coast. | Photo by Darret Cortes

My trip to Panama started with me catching a 65-pound tuna on the Northern end of the country. My second day finds me at the Tropic Star Lodge on the South end, chasing billfish.

When I saw the sailfish's bill come out of the water, I started having serious doubts about the 11-weight fly rod in my hand. The fish looked to be north of 80 pounds, and an 11-weight just didn't seem to be enough rod. That thought left my head when I heard Capt. Cortes yell, "Cast!"

Geared Up for Roosterfish

I had an 11-weight fly rod in my hand because 2 hours earlier, I'd landed on the dock at the Tropic Star Lodge and was rushed onto a second boat with my camera equipment and two 11-weights. I assumed we were going after roosterfish.

Pulling up to the Tropic Star Lodge dock felt like stepping into a Jurassic Park for fishing. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

The mistake was mine; I should have asked. I didn't know I was going to be heading out to fish the minute I hit the dock. My plan was to visit the Lodge, relax for an hour while sipping a cold Mojito, talk with some of the guests, and ease into a half-day of fishing.

Change of Plans

Nope, it was "Grab your gear and get on board. We are going to get you a big fish before dinner."

On the way out, guide Captain Darret Cortes explained to me the technique of casting to, hooking, and landing a sailfish. "Sailfish? No, roosterfish." I said back. Darret assured me we will get on some roosterfish tomorrow, but sailfish was on the menu today.

Capt. Darret Cortes and I talk strategy on how to hook and land a Pacific sailfish. | Photo by Manuel Chanis

Capt. Cortes yells, "Cast!"

And that's how I ended up with an 11-weight fly rod in my hand, staring into dark water, and everyone on the boat shouting and pointing at a lit-up sailfish.

Teasing Up a Sailfish

Captain Cortes has drawn a sailfish to the surface with a teaser and is working it into casting range so I can reach it with a fly rod. The captain is playing cat and mouse with the fish. He doesn't want it to grab the plug, but he can't pull it so far away that the sailfish loses interest.

I make one false cast to get more line out, then I place the popper in the sailfish's window. I make the popper dance and move. The sailfish drops back and submerges; I assume the worst, that it's lost interest, and my heart drops. Right away, it comes back up, taking swings at my fly with her bill. She surges forward, I see her mouth open, and it takes everything in me not to set the hook.

I was specifically instructed not to set the hook when I feel tapping at the end of my fly line. That is the bill hitting the fly. I need to wait until I feel the heavy take and tug of the popper in her mouth.

I know she's down there, I just have to keep my cool and wait. | Photo by Manuel Chanis

Waiting, Waiting…

I block out everyone's yelling and instructions. I focus on the line in my hand. "Was that a tap or a heavy tug!" When I'm this fired up, a tap can feel like a tug, so I need to chill out. Then it happens, and it's unmistakable. I strip set hard. I feel resistance, and I set again to drive the hook deeper.

The popper comes flying out of her mouth. I can see it clearly in the air as I fall back a few steps before catching myself.

I curse and yell, "It's off!" but I maintain enough composure to keep the popper in the water, feed out some line, and get it back to where the fish struck. 

Please, One More Chance

The popper is dancing and spitting water, nothing, the fish is nowhere in sight. I feel like the opportunity is gone, but I'm hoping I'm wrong. I keep the fly dancing, and from straight underneath, like a probe sticking out of the water, I see a bill come up under my fly. It’s swinging back and forth like a metronome. The sailfish has come back.

The sailfish's bill stuck straight up from the water. I was dumbfounded for a sec. Then I got my wits together and set the hook. | Photo by Manuel Chanis

The fish lunges a few feet out of the water, mouth open, and takes the fly. As it goes under, I feel the weight of the fish and do a full arm strip set. This time, the hook sets solid. I do another, and another to make sure, and the fish turns and takes line.

Then It Gets Real Interesting.

On the first failed strike and hook set, I fell back a few steps and ended up standing next to an angler's fighting chair. This is where I was standing when the fish came back, and I got my second chance. I had fly line piled up around my feet, and when the fish took off with the hook securely in its mouth, the speed sent the excess line flying into the air. One of the coils looped over the fighting chair's armrest and wrapped itself.

The armrest of the fighting chair where my fly line got tangled. | Photo by Manuel Chanis

"&%#K!!!!" The fish was running, the excess line was going with it, and it would soon break off if I didn't get it unwrapped. Everyone around me was focused on the fish, and I started yelling about the line and chair. They had no idea what I was talking about. It was chaos, with me trying to slow the fish down with one hand on the rod and the other trying to get the line unwound.

After All That, Is This How I’m Going to Lose My First Sailfish?

Nobody understood what was going on. I was trying to explain, but in all the chaos, it wasn’t registering. What kind of angler would get their fly line messed up in an armrest anyway? Finally, the youngest of the group, a teenager, reached in and unwrapped the line. It was free and clear, and I was still connected to the fish.

Striking the Classic Sailfish Pose

Then the sailfish did what sailfish do: it came rocketing out of the water and leaped high into the air. It looked like all the classic magazine covers I daydreamed over as a kid. The sailfish in the air, sail fully open, bill pointed to the sky. For a moment, I got caught up in the beauty of what I was seeing and paused to take it in; it was a moment I wanted seared into my brain.

All the Fun, Without the Pain

This fight didn't take nearly as long as the tuna had the day before, and I was thankful for that. After a blistering run, some jumps, and a few short surges, we landed it, kept it in the water, and did a quick release. The Captain estimated it to weigh in at 90+ pounds.

A stunningly beautiful Pacific sailfish I landed on an 11-weight fly rod. This photo doesn't capture the brilliant shades of green and blue that pulsed across its skin. | Photo by Manuel Chanis

Panama Delivered More Than I Expected

The trip back was beautiful scenery, cold cervezas, and everyone telling their version of what happened. I was dumb with happiness. In back-to-back days, and in less than 24 hours, I land a 65-pound yellowfin tuna and a 90-pound sailfish, both on a fly rod.

The Gear I Used

Fly Rod: Hardy Marksman Z, 11-weight. This rod was more than enough for a sailfish. It was also used for roosterfish and mahi-mahi.

Fly Reel: Ross Reels Evolution R Salt, 11-weight. Great drag. Great looks. Great reel.

Fly Line: Scientific Anglers Amplitude Textured Tarpon, 11-weight. The SA fly lines have never let me down.

Leader: Seaguar Gold Label Fluorocarbon Leader. 40 lb. Quality and dependable.

The fly-fishing setup I used for Pacific sailfish in Panama: a Hardy Marksman Z 11-weight fly rod, Ross Evolution R Salt fly reel, and a pink billfish fly tied by Captain Darret Cortes. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

Fly: Pink Popper/Streamer. Tide by Capt. Derret Ortes.

Polarized Sunglasses: Bajio Palehorse sunglasses with side shields. Side shields are important in this intense sun. They keep bright light from coming in the sides and disrupting your vision. You will be glad the glasses have them.

Fishing Gloves: These protect the back of your hands from the sun and your fingers from getting sliced by the fly line when a big fish is running.

Panama Is a Fly Fishing Trip of a Life Time

I understand why places like Montana, Belize, New Zealand, and the Seychelles are considered dream fly-fishing destinations. They’ve earned that reputation. After experiencing Panama, I think it belongs in the same conversation.

---

~ KB Follow me on Instagram @KenBaldwin7. I share the stories behind my articles, photography from my fly-fishing adventures, gear I’m testing, wildlife encounters, and the outdoor places that inspire them.

"Slow down...listen to the hoppers...be patient with yer wife...eat sardines with hot sauce... catch “Gagger” trout!!!" – Flip Pallot