When the cold months rolled in at home in Lake Tahoe, California, we decided to head south in search of adventure, warm waters, and fresh seafood. Baja's rugged coastline and endless opportunities seemed like the perfect place to spend a winter chasing fish beneath the waves. Our convoy—a van built for living and a Ford Bronco—was packed to the brim with spearfishing gear, surfboards, and the essentials for beachside camping. With three people and a dog, we were ready for anything the Baja peninsula could throw our way. Every mile south spiked our curiosity, from bustling towns like Guerrero Negro to remote beaches like El Canejo that felt like they belonged to us alone. The freedom of the open road was omnipresent, and the promise of the ocean’s bounty—of fish or waves—kept our spirits high.
Starting to spearfish from shore in Baja. Photo by Dalton Johnson
The Call of the Ocean
December and January aren’t typically the best months for spearfishing in Baja. Seasoned anglers warned us that the waters might not be as productive as other times of the year. But we were eager to see for ourselves, willing to take the chance in exchange for the thrill of exploring Baja's vast coastline. The winter months had their own magic—the water was still warm enough to dive comfortably, and the solitude of the beaches made each spot feel like an undiscovered treasure.
The drive along Baja’s highways, with their twists and turns revealing dramatic ocean views, made the journey itself part of the adventure. Between stretches of open road, we stopped at small fishing villages where locals shared tips on the best spots to dive. Each interaction added to the richness of our trip, painting a fuller picture of Baja’s charm and challenges.
As we wound our way down the peninsula, it quickly became clear that Baja was a haven for multi-sport days. Many of the surf spots we visited, like Cerritos Beach and San Juanico, doubled as prime spearfishing locations. The reefs that shaped perfect waves also served as underwater playgrounds for a variety of fish. On days when the surf went flat, we swapped our boards for spearguns and dove below the surface, combining two passions into one seamless adventure. The balance of surfing and spearfishing turned every day into a new opportunity to connect with the ocean.
Andrew holding his breath, stalking a fish to spear in Baja. Photo by Dalton Johnson
Learning the Hunt
Each dive felt like stepping into a new world. The ocean’s clarity revealed bustling reefs where fish darted between rocks, and we quickly learned how our movements affected their behavior. Some fish were cautious, disappearing with the slightest motion, while others seemed curious, lingering just long enough to become dinner. It was a game of patience and precision that kept us hooked. With every dive, we honed our skills, discovering the nuances of approaching fish without startling them and understanding the underwater currents that could either help or hinder our hunts.
Most days, we returned to camp with a fresh catch, grilling it on the beach as the sun set. There’s nothing quite like the satisfaction of cooking fish you caught yourself, its flavor heightened by the salt air and the glow of a campfire. But not every dive was successful, and some days we chose to let the fish be. One particular day stands out when the haul just didn’t seem worth the effort, especially considering the hour-long walk back to camp with all our gear. The unpredictability of the ocean made each dive an adventure, whether we caught anything or not. Those quiet days were balanced by the thrill of successful ones, where we celebrated not just the catch but the teamwork and effort that went into it.
We also learned to appreciate the nuances of the hunt. Each species of fish reacted differently to our presence, and understanding their behavior became an obsession. Some days we spent hours experimenting with how best to approach them, and even when we came up empty-handed, the knowledge gained made it worth it. Observing the underwater ecosystem, from darting schools of fish to slow-moving rays, added depth to our understanding of Baja’s marine life. It was a reminder that every dive, whether successful or not, was a chance to connect with a world most people never see.
Safety in Numbers
If there’s one thing we learned from our winter spearfishing adventure, it’s the value of having a buddy in the water. Spearfishing is a team sport, not just for safety but for the camaraderie it brings. While Baja’s waters were relatively calm during our visit and large fish were scarce, the thought of being in shark territory with a hip full of fish kept us vigilant. Diving with friends made every moment more enjoyable and reassured us that someone always had our back. The shared thrill of a successful hunt or the laughter over a misstep turned each outing into a memory we’ll cherish forever.
Having a group also made the logistics of the trip easier. While one person prepped the gear, another scouted potential spots, and someone else took care of camp. This teamwork made the days flow smoothly, allowing us to focus on enjoying the experience. Whether it was navigating tricky roads to remote beaches or cooking meals together under the stars, the sense of community added another layer of richness to the adventure.
The Best Spots for Winter Spearfishing
Our route took us to some of the most beautiful and productive spots Baja has to offer. Each location brought its own unique challenges and rewards:
El Canejo: Remote and peaceful, this spot felt like our private paradise. Mostly known for its surfing, but there were some stellar spearfishing opportunities when we were there. The waves were small and unreliable, but the quiet beaches made it a dream spot for camping.
San Juanico: A dual-purpose gem with great waves and productive reefs. We actually broke the Bronco during our time here by swamping it in the ocean, which forced us to stay a few extra days. It turned out to be a blessing, as the extra time gave us more chances to explore the reefs.
Cerritos Beach: A favorite for surfing, we took a break from camping here and stayed in a condo for a few days to enjoy the waves. What a dream spot! The nearby Baracutas Tacos were out of this world and fueled us for long days in the water.
Todos Santos: Bustling with charm, the nearby waters provided excellent diving opportunities. There are tons of local fishermen, so if you want to go out in a panga, this is a good way to experience the waters from a different angle.
La Ventana: Known for its windsurfing, the underwater life was just as captivating. We only spearfished a couple of times here as the visibility was low, but we surely enjoyed the hot springs on the beach and the relaxed vibe of the area.
East Cape: Quiet beaches and crystal-clear waters made it a highlight of the trip. Often, we saw whales in the distance, their tails breaching the horizon. This part of Baja feels remote, so we were extra careful here to make sure we didn’t get stuck on any of the beaches we camped at.
At each stop, the rhythm of our days depended on the ocean. If the waves were firing, we surfed. If the water was calm, we fished. It was a dynamic, ever-changing schedule that kept us engaged and excited. Baja’s diversity made every day feel like a new chapter in our adventure. Each reef held its own surprises, from schools of vibrant fish to underwater caves waiting to be explored.
Andrew and Kicker stoking the fire while camping on the beach in Baja. Photo by Dalton Johnson
Life on the Road (and the Beach)
For the majority of our trip, we lived on the beach. The van was our basecamp, equipped with everything we needed for life on the road. The Bronco carried our extra gear and made off-road excursions a breeze. Nights were spent under the stars, lulled to sleep by the sound of thudding waves, often with the back doors of the van swung wide open to let in the ocean breeze and the soothing crash of waves.
Beach camping in Baja is an adventure in itself. Choosing a campsite close to the water meant waking up to stunning sunrises and the soothing sound of little waves or the thunder of big waves. We quickly learned a few tips to make the experience smoother: it rains in Baja, so bring the tent's rainfly, you'll need a sweatshirt as the nights are cold, and a fire at the beach is a great way to end the day.
Vanlife in Baja added a unique dimension to the trip, as it allowed us to park in remote spots with ease (as long as we didn’t get stuck). I built my van with my dad and lived in it for three years before this trip, so the van is self-sufficient, meaning cooking meals, charging cameras, working remotely, and the occasional sink shower was possible.
Occasionally, we treated ourselves to a bit of luxury, like the condo at Cerritos Beach, but those moments were rare. Baja is a place that demands you embrace its rugged simplicity. If you push, Baja will snap back and humble you. We learned this the hard way when driving the Bronco on the beach—we swamped the turbo and had to wait three days for it to dry out. However, the nights spent gazing at the stars or chatting around a beach fire remain some of the most vivid memories from our trip. The simplicity of vanlife and beach camping in Baja made every moment feel like we were at home in nature.
Walking back to camp after a long day of spearfishing. Photo by Dalton Johnson
Takeaways from a Winter in Baja
Spearfishing in Baja was a warm reprieve from the cold at home in Lake Tahoe. Even though the winter may not have been the most productive season, this spearfishing and surfing road trip was an unforgettable experience. Every dive taught us something new, whether about the ocean or ourselves. From the calm of the hunt at the ocean floor to the joy of sharing ceviche with friends, this road trip to Baja gave us more than we could have hoped for.
Like all good things, this adventure had to come to an end. We left with memories of waves, fish, and camaraderie that will inspire us until the next journey south. Baja, we’ll see you again.
