Marlin University is now Marlin Expeditions! We travel to the best big-game destinations on Earth, at peak times of the year, and teach the most cutting-edge techniques to catch billfish. Check out our 2025 expeditions.
Many of the emails and messages I receive politely call me sir. The questionable calls to wed a foreign princess or routine ads for Viagra have always been a source of amusement. While my name combined with my choice of profession may initially cause others to assume otherwise, I am indeed a woman.
I’ve been working as a photographer and writer specializing in sport-fishing content for just shy of a decade now. I’ve been fortunate to cover the many characters, destinations and tournaments that form the bedrock of this wild sport and industry. However, I didn’t grow up around bluewater fishing. My dad is an avid angler, but he never took much interest in offshore fishing, save the occasional wahoo or mahi trip when on vacation. So when I first stumbled into the world of billfish, I had no experience with the sport in general, let alone time on the rod.
In 2016, I was handed a rod with an already-hooked white marlin while fishing aboard Micabe in Virginia Beach. I didn’t know what I was doing that day, and it showed. Much of the experience was coached, both verbally and physically, by my friend and colleague Amy Dukes. Nevertheless, the fish was released, and I eagerly slunk away from the rod to happily hold my camera.
Since then, I’ve wanted nothing else but to shoot photos while on the water. It can be a frustrating endeavor, but it’s one I thoroughly enjoy. And while I don’t get offshore nearly as much as I’d like, every trip has been with a camera in hand rather than a rod. That would all change rather abruptly in late April with an invitation from Capt. Jen Copeland, the director of Marlin Expeditions.
Meeting the Ladies
I was nervous when I finally arrived at Casa Vieja Lodge for Marlin Expeditions’ annual ladies-only trip, one of many Expeditions offered each year. The trek from Guatemala City to Puerto San José had taken about three hours. As the lodge’s van climbed along the bellies of mountains and passed through towns dotted with auto-repair and ice-cream shops, I wondered about the seven other women in the program.
Everyone else, including the program’s fishing instructors—best friends Jen Copeland and Debbi David—had arrived the day before. They had already shared meals and spent the entire day fishing together on Poco Loco or Rum Line, the two boats we had reserved for our trip. I felt destined to be the awkward new girl. I was already embarrassed about my lack of hands-on fishing experience, and I was worried that my questions and mistakes would ruin the trip for others.
As blenders at the bar sounded the return of Casa Vieja’s many fishing guests, I joined the Marlin Expeditions group gathering at the pool. Poolside debriefings are a kind of cultural norm for Jen and Debbi during Marlin Expeditions. With freshly made cocktails in hand and the lodge’s anticipated afternoon snack, this time a refreshing ceviche, the group gathered along the stairs of the pool to discuss the first day of fishing. Some made jokes at their own expense, a practice I too can’t resist, while others discussed the day’s great sailfish bite.
I instantly felt some relief. Everyone was friendly, easy and open. Some of the women had signed up for the program together, while others joined the trip without knowing anyone else. As an observer, it was difficult to tell who fell into either category. Solid friendships had already been forged in less than 24 hours.
Among our group, skill levels and experience were entirely varied. We were divided into teams of four that would rotate between the two boats and instructors. The first team comprised Donna Qvarnstrom, Dr. Julie Crispin, Kim Hart and Shelley Parker. Donna is a Florida-based restaurateur and an accomplished angler who has been on multiple Marlin Expeditions trips over the years. Julie, a natural-born storyteller, is no stranger to fishing herself and makes a living as an anesthesiologist. Charming Kim is the president of Blackwater Electric and fishes out of Hatteras aboard Unplugged, a boat she owns with her husband. Shelley, equipped with a dry sense of humor and great laugh, is a retired child care provider who now offers custom design work, including curtains and boat cushions.
And then there was the team that drew the short straw—the team with ol’ free-spool Cam, a nickname I would earn after sending a long rigger bait to the other end of the Pacific after failing to use my thumb. Hannah Beardmore, our impossibly cool 18-year-old leader, would eventually give us the moniker the F**k Around and Find Out Crew, a name perfectly delivered in her unflappable Texas accent. I did plenty of the f**king around. Unfortunately, everyone else had to find out.
Hannah is on staff at Tropic Star Lodge in Panama and aspires to a career as a professional mate. She hopes to eventually end up on the bridge. The other two members of the team, Danielle Berardi and Colleen Moran, brought their own incredible energy to the boat. Danielle and her husband—a longtime charter captain—own a marine construction business in Ocean City, Maryland, and recently purchased their own Buddy Davis. A maritime pilot in Philadelphia, Colleen has some experience fishing with friends and routinely charters boats whenever she travels, especially in St. Thomas.
A First on the Rod
Although I missed the first day, I felt immediately welcomed by the team as we set out aboard Rum Line with Capt. Terry Brennan and mates Sebastian Valladares and Tony Gonzales. For those questioning how little you can know before booking one of these trips, please understand that I may have set a new baseline. I pulled Jen aside to show me how to hold the rod and reel in my hand, what to do with my fingers, and how to adjust the drag. And even then, I needed to revisit those same instructions several times.
I made mistakes immediately. No one yelled. Jen may have asked me a time or two, “Girl, what are you doing?” But the space was lighthearted and safe. And even when I desperately wanted to turn back to my camera just a few paces away as fish jumped clean of the horizon and their sails unfolded across the sky, Jen refocused my attention to the task at hand. I was there to learn.
The women on Marlin Expeditions trips don’t sign up for hook and hand. Jen and Debbi train participants to hook their own fish or, for those with more experience, further hone skills already established. With two teasers on each side, our spread included two long riggers and two flat lines. We rotated positions throughout the day.
Hannah and Danielle quickly showcased their proficiency as anglers. Meanwhile, Colleen and I asked lots of questions and grappled with jargon. Our brains clearly process information similarly, and we both struggled with making the verbal directions fit the physical actions. I’ve seen captains, mates and anglers, including my own husband, perform these very skills countless times, and yet doing them myself felt brand-new.
Time and again, my uneducated thumb couldn’t help but get too involved. I racked up backlash after backlash, and once even hit Danielle over the head with a rod. I was a liability in the cockpit! Fortunately, everyone laughed with me as I busily spouted apologies.
Meanwhile, Jen was supportive and encouraging. In general, she has a direct, full-throttle personality, and she brings that same intensity as an instructor. Even still, she manages a patience that is difficult to describe. If Jen rags on you a bit, consider it a win. She’s the first to offer up stories of her own past mistakes to even the playing field, and she won’t ever let you quit trying.
The bite had slowed a bit from the day before, but I managed to hook a fish or two, albeit not without considerable hands-on help from Jen and several textbook sancochos. In between bites, Colleen, Danielle, Hannah and I swapped stories about fishing experiences and mutual friends. We later ate an enormous gourmet chicken sandwich lunch that Tony—a man who could easily take a turn as a professional chef—prepared in the salon. The food was great, and the company was fun.
We continued to fish, and although I still struggled to get it right, it was so nice to watch the women around me improve and grow more confident. For Danielle, that was the whole reason she had signed up. She and her husband plan to fish several tournaments this summer. “I just wanted to build my confidence as an angler,” she says. “When I get back home after this, the boys are going to have to look out!”
Back at the pool, we caught up with the other team and later finished the night off with a lovely zucchini carpaccio and shrimp dinner. Everything at Casa Vieja is accompanied with impeccable service. I’m still shocked by how quickly the staff committed our names to memory. I washed everything down with a nice scotch and promptly tucked myself into bed, hopeful my skills would improve on my second day of fishing.
Tomorrow Is Another Day
The next morning, we pulled away from Puerto San José aboard Poco Loco with Debbi, Capt. Jonathan and his mates Johnny and Manuel. My technique, still frustratingly clunky and inconsistent, did improve a bit. Combining what I learned from Jen the previous day with guidance from Debbi, whose delivery is always calm and thorough, I felt inklings of familiarity develop for the bite and the necessary motions to follow.
Danielle and Hannah helped me throughout the day, offering useful pointers. I worried that I was getting in their way, but instead, the collective effort seemed a benefit to all of us. Colleen and I swapped lessons learned from Debbi, Jen and the others. We had a true team dynamic underway.
The bite was again slower than usual for Guatemala. Even still, we saw and caught numerous sails. At one point, we had an extremely exciting triple-header, a hookup we cited as only made possible by the good luck brought on by a couple of cold beers and Hannah Montana’s country hit “Hoedown Throwdown.”
The team also boated a few mahis that day, and Johnny fixed one for a fitting lunch. The fish and house-made guacamole kept us fueled up for the rest of the day. We returned to the dock with nine sailfish to our credit.
A Win Is a Win
The final day of fishing was tournament day. With 800 bucks for the crew of the winning boat now on the line, the atmosphere had shifted. Jen and Debbi had drawn teams the night before, and the rules were simple. Instructors were only allowed to offer verbal assistance. They could help clear lines if needed, but the participants had to handle all hooking and reeling. Both extremely competitive women, Debbi and Jen were effectively sidelined.
Our team ended up with Debbi on Poco Loco. Jonathan did his part beautifully and put us on the fish. I backlashed several times on the long rigger, but my teammates helped carry the slack. Colleen kicked ass on the right flat line, feeding fish that rushed in with gorgeous teaser bites and switched off to her bait. Hannah swooped in with several cleanups, hooking sails that others had whiffed entirely. And Danielle showcased why confidence is key after hooking and quickly releasing several game-changing and morale-boosting fish.
Our average certainly wasn’t good that day, something like 15 for 30, but we had a lot of fun together regardless. I’m pretty sure our shouts of support for one another could be heard in every corner of Guatemala. Although the members of the other team had a much better average (15 for 18) and were even down a person, we ended up winning based on time. Before we even knew the results, the champagne had been popped and we were celebrating the Marlin Expeditions experience.
Although I did not walk away from Marlin Expeditions as a competent angler, I am now a far more educated one. But a win is a win in my book, and I’ll take that measure of growth as my own version of success.
While I still have no desire to retire my camera for a fishing rod, I gained context through my experience, which will only improve my skills with both the lens and the pen. Plus, I walked away with a whole new group of friends. When I asked Debbi if this kind of camaraderie is typical among trips, she said, “It’s pretty much exactly like this for all the trips. Marlin Expeditions draws in the types of people who want to do this kind of thing the right way. Everybody always gets along and has fun together.” And for that great and curated gift, I have Jen, Debbi and Marlin Expeditions to thank.
