VALENTE LUCERO LUCERO MEMORIAL FAMILY FUND

Since Valente''s sudden death on June 3 the outpouring of love, sorrow and concern for Valente's family has been extraordinary. Gracias amigos for your tender remembrances and heartfelt condolences. Many of you have asked how to lend support to Valente's family and honor his memory. Besides being a legendary flyfishing captain and friend, Valente was a devoted husband and father and the sole financial provider for his wife Letecia (Lette).

Your donation will go directly to Valente's wife and will support the future endeavors of his children. Thank you for honoring the legacy of such an incredible man by giving to the next generation of protectors and lovers of the sea.

Captain Valente Lucero Lucero May 21, 1961 - June 3, 2023

Valente Lucero Lucero entered my life in February of 1989 on my first visit to the Ensenada de Los Muertos area of southern Baja near Cerralvo Island. I was traveling and flyfishing for a few days as a reward from my wife Theresa. I had been helping on her annual trip with her students camping on Magdalena Island and seeking contact with the grey whales who migrated to Magdalena Bay to give birth to their young. We did this for 18 years and she managed to get every student within touching distance of baby whales or looking into the deep wisdom in the eyes of “White Face,” a barnacled gray who befriended us.

I found the Cerralvo area by chance using a large format, paperback map on the dirt roads in Baja. I met Valente’s family at a beach near the now defunct Las Arenas Hotel. Walking up with my fly rods I asked if they knew anything about fly fishing. They laughed and we joked back and forth, wondering why this crazy gringo wanted to fish for flies. I was intimidated, but then they said I could come back in the morning and fish with their captain Valente.

The next morning Valente motored us 6 miles to Cerralvo island where he netted bait and immediately after tossing a few back out, he put me into larger fish. He figured out what I was trying to do right away. I was blown away! After fishing on larger boats with a wide open ocean horizon, I loved the intimacy of fishing out of an open panga along an island habitat solid with reefs, drop-offs, and large gamefish of innumerable types. Valente seemed to know every species and understood their habitat, and the way they moved about and fed. I came to find out that as a young man he would hike several miles to “Ensenada de Los Muertos” and camp on the beach for several weeks, sleeping in the open, diving and fishing for his food, and educating himself on the abundant diversity of the Sea of Cortez.

From our first meeting, I was impacted by his deep love and interconnection with the marine environment. I came back every year, and still do, as we grew to a group of the finest fly fishing captains in Baja with over 200 people a year showing up to fish with us. He was our leader, my teacher, weatherman, biologist, safety monitor, my close friend and a true astute gentleman. His piercing eyes shined a light that was undeniably powerful, and in any conversation, they were darting around watching for surface activity while you discussed any other topic. He vocalized to himself constantly, calling to the fish, singing with the birds, enticing the bait, anticipating the weather as he guided the unskilled anglers he was so intent on providing success. His voice would lilt up and down in a sing song way that was beautiful without understanding a word of it. I often described him to new anglers who were confused by his constant vocalizations, as a brujo, a shaman of the sea, whose intentions were the very best.

After landing on the beach that first day, I told him that if the locals wanted more tourists, trash shouldn’t be dumped on the beach. He glanced up at me, jumped from the boat and true to his nickname ‘Venada” the deer, he trotted down the beach picking up every bit of trash and barking at the other captains to keep the Cortez beaches and waters clean. Just this last Friday, after returning to the launch and helping the other captains get their boats onto trailers, he removed rocks from the launch ramp and then bent to pick up several pieces of trash and walked 100 feet out of his way to deposit in a trash can. That is just how he was.

Whenever he spotted a whale, or a school of dolphins, or some other amazing sea life, he would veer off our course to share with us the wonders of the Cortez. We looked into the eyes of dolphins and porpoises, and on many occasions managed a touch to their dorsal fins as they frolicked, twisting to look up at me from under the bow of his panga. He would often point out sea animals, birds and the rising forms of specific species that I had missed entirely.

One day as I was introducing the captains to their new clients, I mentioned to Valente that two of the anglers also wanted to do some conventional fishing -not fly. He approached me closely and whispered in Spanish, “I am good at that, but you know, I am a flyfishing captain”. I could not have been prouder. Even though, he was a skilled sustainable commercial hand line fisher in my off season, he loved and appreciated the challenge of flyfishing, and the sustainable future this sport insured for his beloved home waters. Unlike many other captains I had fished with in Mexico, having a boat load of dead fish when we landed was not his idea of proof of skill.

As we would run from fishing spot to fishing spot, we often passed another a panga of commercial fisherman or another sport fishing guide. He would always shout over the motor and make them laugh, and often pointed to a nearby location where they really should be fishing. More often than not, they would nod, wave a thank you, and head off to where he directed them.

One afternoon as all six of our pangas were experiencing an incredibly productive day of flyfishing near Cerralvo island; he suddenly looked at the horizon, grabbed his radio microphone and ordered us all back to the launch. I protested; but relented when he said bad weather was coming. Half way across the channel, a fierce wall of wind and waves whacked us. We made it to shore just in time to avoid real danger.

My heart is awash with so many memories of our time together, each unique and precious. Because of this amazing gentleman, I am absolutely a better angler, and a better person from my time spent with him. Together we built a small group of highly skilled flyfishing captains from his extended family and community. Like him they are multi-talented and empathetic men. They are deeply supportive of one another, and joke and tease constantly. For years we had his brothers-in-law and nephew Efren on our team, and over time have transitioned to their sons, and Valente’s son too. Efren has always been one of Valente’s closest allies and co-navigator for our crew.

They have followed Valente’s and their fathers’ examples of being respectful guardians of the sea, observant environmentalists, skilled teachers, awesome baseball players and kind and helpful to those around them, while spreading joy at every opportunity: and understanding why we want to fish “for” flies!

When Valente unexpectedly left us on June 3, at 62 years, I was fortunate enough to have had dinner with him and his beautiful wife Lette a few hours before. He was vibrant. When I arrived at his house in the middle of the night, within an hour of his passing, there were already over a hundred people gathered in his yard. I was stunned. I came to realize that his village of Agua Amarga was as forlorn by this unfathomable event as I was. He was a vortex of energy and infectious kindness that is indelibly etched into the cellular memory of his family, his community, his friends, his ocean, and his songs until it is our turn to join the unfathomed. Rest in Peace Amigo. Your light shines on.