Tuna Fishing at Casa Cardonal
Some days at Casa Cardonal turn into the best day of the whole trip. One June evening last summer, that day started with five words from Mino, our caretaker and longtime boat captain: the tuna were in.
The Invitation
One summer evening in June, Mino let us know the tuna were in and asked if we wanted to go fishing the next day. I said yes before he'd even finished the sentence. I had never caught a tuna before, and Mino told me we'd be heading out about twelve miles offshore — a little farther than our usual dorado grounds.
Heading Offshore
We were up early the next morning, packing the cooler with drinks, ice, and sandwiches, and we pushed off the beach at 7:00am. The water was calm, the clouds were low on the horizon, and the whole morning was wrapped in a soft gray light. Our boat planed east across the Sea of Cortez, and every so often our engine noise would startle a flying fish, sending it into the air to glide out in front of the boat for nearly a hundred yards before settling back into the water. This happened five or six times on our way out.
I asked Mino how he'd know when we got there. Of course his answer was in Spanish, and was more than I could follow, but the meaning came through clearly enough: “Just wait, you'll see.”
¡Aquí!
About forty-five minutes after leaving the dock, I spotted a cluster of boats ahead of us. As we moved closer, I saw seagulls diving all around, working the water. Closer still, and we could see dolphins slashing back and forth around what looked like a massive bait ball. Mino said simply, “¡Aquí!”
Into the Frenzy
We put the boat in neutral, rigged our lines, hooked on live bait, and cast them out. It's always a strange thing to me, watching a single piece of bait go into water that's churning with thousands of other baitfish, and wondering what could possibly make a predator choose that one. But I suppose a hooked baitfish moves differently — maybe like a wounded fish instead of one swimming easily with the school — and that difference is exactly what a tuna is looking for.
The Fight
It took about three minutes before a tuna hit my line. It took off and my rod started spooling line the way a black marlin might — fast and hard. I brought the drag up to slow it down, and what followed was a real fight, give and take, until I finally worked the fish to the boat about 20 minutes later. It was a 32-lb yellowfin tuna. I've caught plenty of fish over the years, mostly salmon back home, along with a few billfish down here at the Casa with Mino, but the fight in this tuna was amazing!
Everyone Gets a Turn
With that one fish, we already had what we needed for dinner for all of us, but everyone wanted their turn — and rightly so. It took about two hours before everyone had hooked and landed a tuna of their own. Since we already had enough for the table, we released them after the fight.
Back to Casa Cardonal
By around 10:30am we started back toward Casa Cardonal and were home by 11:30am. We ended up with about 16 lbs of tuna meat from that one fish. Mino got half of the catch, and we ate the other half that night and still had enough to bring four pounds home with us. Tuna fishing is in prime season at the Casa from May through November but is best in the peak of summer. Mino always knows if they are in and ready to go if you are!
Fishing at Casa Cardonal
Yellowfin tuna run strong off the East Cape from late spring through fall, alongside dorado, wahoo, striped marlin, and roosterfish — Mino has fished these waters his whole life and knows exactly where to find them. If you're planning a trip and want to know what's biting when, our Activities page has a full fishing calendar for the Casa area, plus everything else there is to do on and off the water.