DATELINE: FEBRUARY 18, 2025 – LA LIBERTAD, EL SALVADOR
21 years ago, Marta and I transited through San Salvador, on the way to a magnificent week in Costa Rica and Panama. It wasn’t a long layover, perhaps 90 minutes, and there were no decorative water features in the airport, so I didn’t catch a fish in the country. I briefly hinted that we stay overnight just so I could find a fish to add, but this was still when Marta had some hope I was normal, so I dropped it.
As all of you except Cousin Chuck have figured out, Nicaragua is immediately south of El Salvador, and since I was in the region anyway, it was time to correct this situation. Apart from the 97 countries where I have caught a fish, there were four I had visited without fishing – The Vatican, Russia, Venezuela, and El Salvador. (For you scoffers, I do indeed have a plan for the Vatican.) So it was just 45 minutes from Managua to San Salvador, but then, I would need to find someplace to actually fish. El Salvador, like Nicaragua, does not have the sportfishing infrastructure of, say, Panama, but there are still some great places to fish. The seaside town nearest the airport seemed to be La Libertad, so I started my search there.
Oh yes I did.
This is where the IGFA was, as always, supremely helpful. I looked up the local IGFA rep there, Paco Saca, and he responded immediately with several suggestions, ranging from full-on big game to some inshore options. (This type of access is one of the many advantages of being an IGFA member – you can sign up on IGFA.org or just contact me for details.)
Paco on the water.
Paco put me in touch with Frank, who is nicknamed “Mamba” – likely by the fish. He runs inshore and offshore trips in pangas around La Libertad. Frank got back with me right away. We discussed some full day options that he thought could get me into some big fish, but alas, I really only had time for a half day, and once I explained my bizarre needs, he enthusiastically set up a shorter trip on the local reefs, just so I could say I caught something there.
This was the first picture he sent me. While I do have all the species on the table, it was very clear the guy knew what he was doing.
I had to make this a brief visit – just a day to get the country added, and then back to the US and real-life responsibilities, like work and avoiding the dishes. Frank recommended the Hotel Acantilados, as it was right next to where we launch the boat and happens to be the nicest property in the area. Their driver got me at the airport, and got me to the hotel in less than an hour. The place was absolutely gorgeous – carved right into a seaside cliff with views in every direction. (And quite a bargain. This is not a bad place to visit if you’re in the region.)
The view from the sitting room in my hotel.
And from the balcony. This was flat-out luxurious, and yet it cost less than the Holiday Inn Fresno.
Frank was on Whatsapp with me from the moment I landed, and we agreed to meet at 6am the next morning.
He got me right at six and we drove all of five minutes down the coast to launching area. The boats were surf-launched, which gave me a few South Africa flashbacks, but looking at the calm conditions, I realized it would be a cinch.
The scenery just couldn’t have gotten any nicer, unless there was a fish in the photo.
Our craft for the day, the Mario Albeiro. That’s Spanish for “adenoids.”
Frank and Steve enjoying the flat ride on a beautiful day. Marta seemed to want to see more pictures of Frank than the fish. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
The shoreline in the area is mostly cliffs, making for amazing scenery.
We stopped a few times and cast I cast a small spoon around. Frank still believed that we should get offshore with some bigger lures, but I doggedly stayed with my time-honored strategy of staying inshore and going smaller and smaller until something – anything – bites. Maybe 30 minutes into the actual fishing, I had dragged out a sabiki, but not yet gotten desperate enough to put bait on it. After a few casts against the cliffs, I got hit and a fight was on. Realizing this might be my only chance to add an El Salvador fish added some pressure to the situation, but I managed to ease it to boatside – it was a green jack, the Pacific version of the Blue Runner, and I was on the scoreboard with country number 98.
The boat driver did an excellent job of not looking perplexed at my joy.
We bumped around a few other reefs, and more catches started showing up. The ubiquitous chameleon wrasse started biting – the most common creature in the ocean from Puerto Vallarta to Nicargua.
I got my first one in Puerto Vallarta in 2008.
Then things got interesting, at least by my standards. I caught a small, groupery-looking thing, and recognized it as a mutton hamlet. But it didn’t look quite like the Mutton Hamlet I had caught in Puerto Vallarta all those years ago, so I did the logical thing – I called Chris Moore. Chris is a High School teacher, so not only do we expect him to know everything, we also expect him to babysit our badly raised children. He informed me that there are indeed two species of Mutton Hamlet, the Pacific and the Rivulated. The key was the pattern on the pectoral fin.
The beast in question – species 2382.
This is what differentiates it from the regular mutton hamlet – rough rows on the pectoral fins instead of scattered spots.
We trolled most of the way back, but alas, there were no hits.
Dinner was steak and lobster at the Acantilados – it was perfect, and yet cost less than a visit to Chick-Fil-A.
No, this was not the airport shuttle.
I got to bed early that evening, because the United flights out of Central America all depart at ungodly predawn hours not suited to most humans. Morning came too soon, because I had to leave for the airport at 2:30am, but my driver was punctual and I got to San Salvador with plenty of time to spare, so I could be there in person while United created drama around my homeward flight and I ended up having to go through LA with a 35-minute connection instead of Houston with a two hour layover. Miraculously, I raced through customs and managed to get by the surliest of gate agents and on to the flight. It would be just a week until I had to get on another plane, but unfortunately, that trip was a work thing someplace frozen that had no fish anyway. The next fishing trip, now that we will pass the compendium blog that started 2025, would be a May journey to face a very old adversary.
Steve
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