Cabo Sport-Fishing Weekend With Cousin Chuy: A Father-Son Trip With Brian and Matty

Mira, this is not a post I wrote. This is a post Brian dictated to me at our kitchen counter in Austin, three days after he and Matty got back from Cabo, while Matty interrupted approximately every six seconds to add "and the boat was THIS BIG" and Sophie sat in my lap and demanded to know why she didn't get to go. Cariño, you are four. Cuatro años. When you are seven you can go. Until then we eat helado and read books, ándale.

So. Last August, Brian and Matty flew to Cabo for a three-day sport-fishing weekend with my cousin Chuy. Chuy runs charters out of the Cabo San Lucas marina — has since 2011, took over from his suegro — and every year since Matty turned six, Brian and Matty have done a boys' trip down. This year was Matty at seven, and it was the year he caught his first real fish. The story is — no manches — actually amazing. Let me let Brian tell it. I'll narrate the parts where he's wrong.

The setup, per Brian

"Okay. So. We flew in Friday afternoon. Chuy picked us up. We crashed at his place that night — Matty slept on the couch and was up at 4:30am because he was too excited." (Note from Jess: he was up at 4:15. Brian rounds.) "Chuy made us coffee and chilaquiles. Matty had his first real coffee — a teaspoon in a mug of milk. He declared himself ready. We were at the boat by 5:30."

Practical context for parents thinking about this trip: August in Cabo is peak marlin season. Striped marlin run later (November-ish) but blue marlin and dorado are abundant in late summer. Water is warm, swells are moderate, and afternoon thunderstorms are real — you fish at dawn and you're back at the dock by 1pm. This is not a sunset cruise. This is a working morning.

The marlin story

"We were out about 90 minutes when the first strike hit. Chuy yelled — actually yelled — 'GET MATTY IN THE CHAIR.' I put Matty in the fighting chair, strapped him in, and the rod was bent in half. He's a seven-year-old. The fish was a 130-pound blue marlin. Chuy was behind him, hands on Matty's hands, walking him through every motion. 'Reel, mijo, reel, breathe, lean back, reel.' It took 22 minutes to land."

(Note from Jess: Brian was crying on the FaceTime call he sent me from the boat. Matty was screaming. Chuy was laughing. The audio on that call is currently saved in three places.)

They tagged the marlin and released it. Cousin Chuy does catch-and-release for billfish — this is the right way, ándale, and any charter that doesn't release billfish is one you shouldn't book. They kept a dorado later that morning for dinner. Matty insisted on helping clean it. Brian sent me a photo. Sophie saw the photo and decided fishing was "disgusting" and stomped off. Both reactions are valid.

The dock restaurant

Cabo's marina has dock-side restaurants that cook your catch. Chuy took them to Mariscos Mazatlán — third stall in from the corner, family-run since the 90s. They cooked the dorado three ways: ceviche, tacos, a-la-plancha with garlic. Brian says best fish of his life. He said this once about a Holiday Inn burger in Wyoming. This time I believe him.

If you book a charter, ask your captain which dock spot they use. Tip cash.

Where they stayed: Chuy's house, but if you don't have a Chuy

Brian and Matty stayed with Chuy because we have a Chuy. If you do not have a Chuy, the best play for a sport-fishing weekend is to book a hotel in the marina area — walking distance to the boats, no Uber at 5am, ándale. Here's my Booking search for the Cabo marina area — filter for free cancellation because weather can scrap a charter and you'll want flexibility.

The charter itself: how to book one

If you do not have a Chuy (and most of you don't, fair), the charter market in Cabo is huge and the quality is wildly variable. The rule: 6 hours minimum, full insurance, captain with at least 10 years of local experience, catch-and-release on billfish, ice and water included, fishing license sorted by the charter (not you). Prices in August 2025 ran $750-$1,200 for a half-day for up to four people.

Book a half-day Cabo sport-fishing charter on Viator — pick one with a 4.8+ rating and a captain bio that mentions release rates.

The gear that came home with them

• Costa polarized sunglasses — Brian has been a Costa convert since 2017, says they are the only sunglasses that work on the water. Matty got a kids' pair from the same line and refuses to take them off, even at night.
• Hydro Flask 32oz — sun is brutal, you drink more water than you think
• Sun Bum mineral SPF on Matty, reapplied every 90 minutes
• AirTags in Matty's bag (because I am Matty's mom and I will track him from Austin if I want to)

What Sophie and I did, since we're not forgotten

Sophie and I had our own three-day weekend in Austin. We did the pool every morning, ate ice cream every afternoon (no manches, every afternoon, no regrets), went to the children's museum, and had a girls-only sleepover where she insisted on watching Coco for the fourteenth time. She FaceTimed Matty twice a day to demand a fish update. He sent her a video of a flying fish. She declared it "feo" and hung up. Sisterly love.

The verdict, and why this is a tradition

Every August: Brian + Matty + Chuy, three days, marlin chase, dock dinner. Brian asked when Sophie can join. The answer: when she can hold a rod and not announce that fish are "feos." Maybe age six. We'll see.

On the flight home, Brian told Matty this is "the kind of trip you'll remember when you're forty." Matty said "daddy, I remember everything I do." Brian laughed for two minutes straight.

If you have a kid between six and twelve — do it. Book the charter. Pack the sunscreen. Get the catch-and-release captain. Bring it home in your kid's eyes. Hasta la próxima — y un saludo especial al primo Chuy, sin ti no hay marlin. 💛