At first, it looks like a dark smudge on the pink and white horizon. As we move closer, individual specks emerge from the cloud, wheeling in ever-tightening circles hundreds of feet into the air. The spiraling tornado reaches all the way to the water’s surface where black tijereta birds must fold up their long wings when jockeying for position over the feeding frenzy below. Closer still, and we start making out slicing bills and fully erect sails knifing through the water, scattering sardines with every charge. We found the birds, so we found the sailfish. Rigged and prepped long before sunrise, the baits go over and the captain turns the boat toward the action, and Isla Mujeres delivers on its springtime promise once more.