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There are destinations you fish, and then there are destinations that feel like they fish you. These are the kinds of places that pull you in the second you land at the airport. The Dominican Republic is one of those places. Every time I return, I feel the anticipation and reverence. The waters here are too good, too full of potential and too alive to be taken lightly. And from October 29 to November 3, 2025, our Marlin Expeditions crew stepped into that rhythm for four unforgettable days of FAD fishing and shared adventures. With Hurricane Melissa lingering in the back of my mind all week, my first move after getting the clients settled was to check in with the captain and get the latest read on the conditions. The crew of Fresh Air were buzzing, ready for anything—baits rigged, dredges assembled, and discussing which FADs had been producing best for them. Even after hundreds of trips, I still love that first night when strangers become teammates, and the fishing goes from concept to inevitability. We grabbed a drink and watched the sun fall behind us as Chef Christian Rojas prepared dinner. Our game faces were on, and there’s something powerful about the night before a trip truly begins.
Our mornings started before sunrise every day, standing on the deck with coffee in hand, the engines rumbling beneath our feet. It’s a reminder that great fishing is always a mixture of preparation, patience and a lot of faith. I’d never fished on Fresh Air before, but the recent reports were so good, they set the tone for the entire trip.
The Dominican Republic’s offshore FAD system is legendary for a reason. Those man-made structures create their own miniature ecosystems—bait, predators and endless possibilities. And as we ran out each morning, the anticipation built with every mile.
And for us, the bite happened quickly.
Capt. Francisco Ruffucci had been dialed in for the past week, seeing some 21 blues and 11 whites in just three and a half days leading up to our trip. That’s why we come here. And it didn’t disappoint.
Most of Day 1’s fish were pushing 125-plus pounds, and the seas were typical for the DR, which are rarely calm. We went 5-for-7 on all big fish that managed to slip into the thermocline for what seemed like hours at a time.
The day that followed, we released 11 blues after seeing it all: powerful blues erupting in the spread and then disappearing like ghosts never to be seen again, teaser hits that came out of nowhere, and those maddening times when you sense a fish following just beyond the prop wash.
We had a real humbling on Day 3 when the wheels started to come off. Some hookups turned into textbook releases, while others turned into straight-up misses or heart-pounding battles that demanded everything from the anglers and the crew.
But the magic wasn’t just in the amount of fish we were seeing; it was also in the learning. Our anglers—some new to dead-bait fishing, others experienced but ready to soak up this fishery for the first time—worked through pitch-bait fundamentals, dredge positioning, teasing technique and drag management, among other things. Details such as these turn good anglers into dangerous ones, and the Dominican waters are the perfect classroom.
Our last day offshore came with a quiet sense of urgency to obtain a grand slam. We were in the right place at the right time, and it was the moment to capitalize on it. The fish were there; we just had to make the connections count.
The crew moved with sharp purpose. They understood the assignment, and with the day before being the most challenging, we were ready. The ocean often gives you everything if you let it, but you also must do your part. Good vibes, positive thoughts and a lot of luck would be on our side because we had our grand slam by lunchtime. Our day ended on a high note with five blues, one white and one sail that had everyone high-fiving.
It was the perfect exclamation point to a week defined by grit, learning and moments of pure exhilaration. Running back to the marina that last afternoon, the energy on board was equal parts ecstatic and misty. You never want the final day to be the final day.
The Dominican Republic is one of the most consistent, vibrant and technically rewarding fisheries anywhere in the Caribbean, and possibly even the world. It rivals the fishery once enjoyed in Venezuela. Where else in this hemisphere can you enjoy four days of off-the-chain fishing resulting in 26 blues, one white and one sail released? That is what keeps all of us returning.
Cap Cana feels like a home base for the Caribbean. But above all, we love the transformation that happens when a group of strangers comes together on the open ocean—to experience something bigger than themselves, to be humbled, and to learn the nuances of the DR fishery, which may be seeing its best years yet. For me, it delivered the best blue marlin fishing of my career. Unfortunately, it also spoiled my clients, but that’s exactly what this place does. And I hope it stays that way forever.
