EN
Our third official week in existence brought tighter logistics, a polished camp, and the privilege of welcoming old friends from Argentina—Bernardo and the Gallo brothers—hardcore dorado fanatics who trusted us blindly with this new adventure. With mates, fernet, and endless fishing stories, it felt like home.
After a heavy flood, no one knew how long it would take the Tarija to clear. Doubts crept in, about both our skills and the program itself. Sunday, our first day, was the trial by fire.
One team flew into Los Búhos Creek, an unknown stream we hadn’t even scouted from the air, while Bernardo explored a new section of Lapacho Creek. The Gallo brothers had some early action in murky waters, while Bernardo scored with four dorados between 6–12 lbs. The highlight came when guide Fede spotted an “invisible fish” behind a submerged boulder. With a precise cast, Bernardo’s own hand-tied chartreuse deceiver was annihilated. The hook-set, the fight, the laughter—it was a perfect start.
Monday tested our willpower again: a brutal drop from 39°C to 5°C, fog that grounded the helicopter until mid-morning, and still our anglers pushed forward.
The Gallos explored Picabuey Creek, finding strong fish and even breaking a rod in four pieces on a monster that had the final word.
Meanwhile, Bernardo “sacrificed” himself to float the still-turbid Tarija—only to be rewarded with a stunning fish pulled from structure after a nail-biting cast.
By Tuesday, conditions were improving. Both teams committed to the main river. Everyone got on the chopper with the illusion intact.
Bernardo was first to strike, battling a powerhouse fish that tore downstream, stripping backing, leaping, and finally surrendering to the net.
Not to be outdone, Fernando Gallo landed a trophy after his brother lost a giant to a broken leader.
Midweek brought ups and downs: Wednesday was slow, but Thursday fired up again. The Gallos stayed on the Tarija and landed three beauties, while Bernardo worked crystal-clear Picabuey and had a spectacular day—sight-fishing dorado and even tempting one with a mouse pattern. The fish eventually won that duel, but the battle was unforgettable.
Friday, the last day, was bittersweet—part nostalgia, part relief after endless casting, but still burning with hope for one final trophy. And it came in cinematic fashion. As the helicopter approached, guide Fidel insisted Bernardo make one last cast against a boulder. The strike was violent, the fight long and deep, with no jumps to reveal the mystery. Fifteen minutes later, a massive 97 cm long dorado slid into the net. Celebrations erupted like a scored goal. The perfect closing scene for an epic week.
Tariquía Lodge is more than dorados and yunga rivers. Behind every cast is the tireless work of our staff, from laundry to logistics to conservation. Special recognition goes to María Pía, who not only runs camp operations but also teaches English to local students as part of our community project. Tariquía is about fishing, yes, but also culture, education, and protecting this unique corner of the Andes–Amazon frontier.
• Temperatures swung from chilly 7°C mornings to hot 30°C afternoons.
• Strong winds hit Friday at 55 km/h.
• The Tarija improved steadily after Day 2 but never reached gin-clear levels—proof that dorados can still be hunted in stained water.
• Lines: Floating/intermediate clear-tip lines on the main river; floating lines on tributaries with #8 rods.
• Flies: Big chartreuse & black deceivers on strong 3/0 hooks; mouse patterns on creeks for explosive action.
Thus ended a remarkable week with friends, with promises made to the jungle gods to return next year.
Tight lines from JP and the entire Tariquía Lodge family.