Striking Gold : Popular and Colorful Dorados Teeming Off Cabo San Lucas, Offering Fishing That Is Nothing Short of Spectacular

The first dolphin shot out of the sea and glistened in the sun for an instant, then splashed down.

The second flew from its world as if possessed, twisting and tumbling before its re-entry, only a stone’s throw from the stern of the cruiser La Brisa.

Another took flight, and still another.

Cabo’s most colorful and flamboyant creature, the dolphin or dolphinfish--referred to around here as the dorado or golden one--had struck again.

Four hookups within about four minutes.

Four fish going berserk, turning a yellowish-gold with each flying leap and a radiant green with each burst of speed beneath the boat.

And four Kaminskis, looping poles in hand, played their sparkling acrobats beautifully.

“I’ve seen them so thick behind the boat it’s like a light show,” said Dave Kaminski, 57, a twice-a-year visitor from Indiana who came with his wife, son and daughter-in-law.

They weren’t as thick this time, but the emerald missiles were still visible as they darted through the blue water, obviously excited by the actions of their hooked companions, which flew and flipped violently, but in vain.

Half an hour after the initial hookup, the Kaminskis had managed quite a harvest--four hefty dorados, each measuring about four feet and weighing about 25 pounds.

The fish had lost their brilliant luster not long after losing their lives, but the Kaminskis weren’t greedy. They took only four for the table, leaving the school behind and continuing their search for the ever-popular, ever-so-elusive marlin.

“That’s what we came for,” Chris Kaminski said, then eyeing the dorados bunched with string on the swimstep, added, “but these are fun. I could catch them all day.”

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Dorado might play second fiddle to marlin when it comes to a challenge, but then one need not ply the water for hours, as is often the case for marlin, to find the smaller, but just as spirited, game fish.

The pristine water off Cabo San Lucas these days is patched with neon green, the prevalent color of dorado before they light up with excitement. (Some scientists say their rapid color changes might be a means of communication).

Since their initial invasion early this summer, the sleek and slender dolphins have been arriving in waves, providing light-tackle anglers some of the best dorado fishing ever off Land’s End.

The reasons for the apparent increase in dorado are unclear. But a growing conservation ethic among recreational fishermen--the limit is six small game fish per day, but more people are keeping only what they can fit into an ice chest--and a ban a few years ago on the take of dorado by commercial fishermen are probable factors.

Whatever the reasons, fishing in recent months has been nothing short of fantastic.

Both the Pisces and Gaviota fleets reported dorado counts well into the hundreds in the last week alone, with hundreds more being released. Most are coming in at 25-40 pounds, but if last year was any indication, anglers can expect bigger fish as fall turns to winter.

Last December, an 87-pounder was weighed in at the marina scale. It would have tied the all-tackle world record--landed off Costa Rica in 1976--had the anglers who caught the fish not taken turns fighting it.

“Last November it was this good too, but last year the striped marlin bite started earlier so most people would go out and catch seven to 10 dorado and then go and fish for marlin and sailfish,” said Tracy Ehrenberg, owner of the Pisces Fleet and a Cabo resident for 11 years. “This year the marlin bite has not yet started, really. So most people are concentrating on dorado.”

They can hardly help themselves.

Bob Smith, who with his wife, Minerva, operates a tackle store in the middle of town, said some people are actually referring to dorado, jokingly or not, as pests.

“I have people coming in asking for lures that don’t catch dorado,” he said.

He can’t oblige, though, because the fish will strike practically anything. One angler last month reportedly caught one using a banana peel for bait.

“They’re catching so many that they’re actually complaining,” Smith said. “And then April or May comes around and they’ll say, ‘Where are all the dorado?’ ”

Many of them will have migrated from the region until summer, while the less fortunate will have delighted the palates of their captors. After all, Hawaii’s “mahi mahi” has nothing on dorado--it’s the same fish.

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Dolphins, or dolphinfish, as they are often called by scientists and marine biologists, are one of the world’s unique and treasured fish, with a history nearly as colorful as themselves.

According to Robin Milton Love of UC Santa Barbara’s Marine Science Institute, the fish was given the name “Coryphaena” by Aristotle. The Latin name Coryphaena Hippurus was derived from the Greek words meaning “showing a helmet” and “horse tail.”

The odd shape of the dolphin--its blunt, slightly rounded head and a dorsal fin that stretches from head to its V-shaped tail--could explain such reasoning.

In any case, dolphins have developed quite a following over the years, not only here and off Hawaii, but in sub-tropical and tropical waters around the world.

In Syria they’re called “Bakhti Bakhti,” in France “Coriphene,” in Taiwan “Fei Niau Fu,” in North Vietnam “Ca Nucheo” and in Cypress “Dakaunomoutas.”

And in every location the fish--unlike the mammal of the same name--should be called “Stupid.”

Dolphins, although they prefer the bluest of seas, can’t resist floating objects, which makes them vulnerable to commercial and sport fishermen alike.

In Japan, fishermen tie bunches of bamboo and plant them in strategic locations to attract the fish, then circle the area with nets and haul in their catch.

In the Sea of Cortez near La Paz, buoys with lines attached to catch sharks, set up by commercial fishermen, are a regular stop for the sportfishing fleets. A few sardines are thrown near the buoys, the ocean lights up and hookups are almost automatic. When one buoy is fished out, another is targeted.

When Hurricane Kiko battered La Paz and the East Cape region of southern Baja in 1988, thatched roofs, as well as tree trunks and wood from houses, floated around for weeks. Small towns were in ruins, but the dorado fishing was outstanding.

In August, when Cuban refugees were fleeing their country by the hundreds each day on makeshift rafts, Florida’s sportfishermen benefited immensely from the presence of the abandoned vessels.

“Fishermen from the Florida Keys to north of Palm Beach reported finding as many as a dozen rafts a day with fish swimming underneath,” read an item in the International Game Fish Assn. newsletter. “These anglers said the fishing, especially for dolphins, was the best in years.”

When solo sailor Steven Callahan lost his vessel and became adrift in a life-raft for 77 days in the early 1980s, he survived largely because of the dolphins he said stayed beneath his raft the entire time it drifted from the North Atlantic to the Caribbean.

The dorados bumped his raft often, perhaps feeding on the barnacles growing on its underside. With a makeshift spear, he survived on the fish he called “doggies” until he was rescued--weathered, withered and near death.

Dolphins here don’t save many lives, although it could be said they help ensure the survival of this booming desert city, which relies on sport fishing to stay afloat.

If nothing else, they keep anglers like the Kaminskis busy while they search for marlin.