Local fishing....how things have changed!

(started this in August - and just finished it) Recently, I went on a charter. Mind you I have not been on anything but long trips in quite a few years - not sure how many years...maybe 10 - 15 years ago? I cannot recall. It was a two (2) day trip with some folks I haven't fished with before, and a couple that I have. The BFT fishing had just been shut down by the Mexican government in the waters south, which was a bit of a bummer because they had been biting pretty good. Well, I get down to San Diego early and putter around for a while waiting for the rest of the troops to show up. I start seeing a few of the folks that are going. Their tackle is different. I have what I would have considered standard BFT tackle - 20, 30, 40 and 50 lb tackle on Newells and 4/0's on Trulines and Silaflexes. These guys have Avets, Accurates, Shimanos and all these new-fangled rods and reels with.....2 speeds! Wait a minute, ain't this just local fishing? 2 speed reels? What the hell for? With the BFT fishing closed, there were plenty of rat YFT's being caught locally - so off to catch mini YFT. Well, as it happens, we go BFT fishing anyway. Not size-large, but nice ones - 25 to 30 pounds. They bite the first morning for a couple of hours - and that was it for the trip. The rest of the trip was the rat yellowfin. I thought I fished my ass off. I was flinging the bait hard - and getting my share of bites. But after the bite was over, I think I had three. 18 guys and 40 tuna or so - and I had three. There was a time I would have been quite disappointed about this - because it really was a pretty good bite. But somehow, I was OK with it. The kicker is, these guys were having a relatively easy time with their 2 speeds - while I was toiling away with my old Newells and 4/0's. They would just put their reels in low gear. Hey!! This is basically the same shit I do on the long trips - except everything is smaller. So, if I am to be serious about this local fishing 2014 style, I have to rearm myself with all new tackle. I'm going back to fishing out of PSL. Much easier, and I have the tackle for that. This getting old thing is a bitch.

The choice of working on a boat or transitioning to 'Passenger Kingdom'

As I have mentioned on previous posts, I had been a 'pinhead' on sportboats out of Pierpoint Landing (Long Beach) in the late 60's - scrubbing the boat to get a free ride. I had also worked on some boats during my years in college (early 80's). When I was working on the sportboats and I had a day off, I went back on the same boat and fished. Given the virtually unlimited availability of engaging in my favorite hobby - I could not get enough. I had enough documented sea time to get an operator's license. I wanted to be a sportboat captain! But, after seeing the recreational fishing industry from the side of the worker, I decided that a career in fishing was not for me. I envisioned getting lucky at some point and owning a boat and operating a passenger fishing business. I envisioned spending my working life in the environment which I truly loved. However, as time went on - I began to see the difficulty of making a career out of your favorite hobby. There are people that can do this - the exceptional ones that made a career out of their passions. These are the people I envy. But there are not many - and I am certainly not one of them. I began to realize that at some point, being inundated in fishing would eventually negate my passion for this hobby I loved so much. I did not want my passion for fishing to wane. I have a small skiff now - with which I can be a mini-party boat captain! I love taking people fishing - and watching them catch fish. This past year, I happened to meet a guy at the local AAA. He was talking to some other guys about fishing, their sons and....life. When the subject turned to offspring pride - one guy says, 'my boy is in Harvard'....another guys says, 'yeah? Well mine is at Yale!'....I could see the irritation in this guy's eyes and he says, 'mine just bought me a new 750IL'. Pretty much ended the conversation. I started a conversation with this guy - he had recently moved up to the central coast. Retired, 72 years old and loved to fish. He talked about catching a white seabass from a partyboat out of Oxnard. I said - 'why do that? We catch seabass right here, and as a matter of fact there are salmon to be caught now!' He says, 'bullshit, you have to go to Alaska or something for those...what kind of salmon are we talking about?'. 'King Salmon!!' I said. His expression turned to complete disbelief. A week later, we went trolling out of Port San Luis and promptly caught two King Salmon!! He could not wipe the smile off his face. Sent the picture to all his family and friends. Awesome. Anyway, back to the subject. A few years ago....no, more than that, 30 years ago....Frank LoPreste called and asks if I wanted to work a trip - a 10 day. Steve Loomis ran the trip - Rich Rogers, Bill Lang, Reese and Rollo Heyn - what a character Rollo was. I was between jobs after getting out of college - so I said OK. Turned into a great fishing trip to Alijos - lots of 60 to 80 pound yellowfin tuna, wahoo and yellowtail. Interesting to note on this trip - one of the passengers looked familiar. His name was John. I asked if he'd ever worked on the Freedom out of the old Pierpoint. Turns out I was his pinhead! Anyway, taking my turns on wheel watch, deck watch, anchor duty, checking the engine room, serving meals and all the normal duties of a deckhand. Not being used the hours - I was completely wiped out. The last leg of the trip back to the docks - and we are pulling fish out of the holds. I swear to god, I thought I was going to die. Then, after we pull in to the slip, we had to throw fish from the boat to the carts. Holy Shit!!! After cleaning up and refueling, I go out to my car - and just as I was getting ready to pull out, a police car blocks me in. The officer comes to my window and says I am parked illegally. After 10 days in the same spot? Come on!!! I said - 'look, I just got off the RP after 10 days of working myself to death. So hurry up and write a ticket, take me to jail, or whatever you want to do because if you don't - I'm going to puke and pass out'. I must of looked like it too - because he just shook his head and walked off. I knew right then that Passenger Kingdom was where I belonged. No more working on a boat. A lot of the guys I used to work with on the boats became successful businessmen - owning their boats and generally being a success in life. Except for one thing. Most of these guys are just not crazy about going fishing anymore. Fishing is no longer what they want to do in their spare time. Fishing is no longer their passion. Fishing is their living! I remain crazy about fishing. Perhaps not as maniacal about it as I used to be, but definitely the activity of choice for me. Here it is almost Christmas 2014, and I am about three weeks from my next long trip. I can hardly contain myself. My fishing partner is not going on this trip. Quite bummed about it. Another interesting occurrence. I normally pay a deposit for these trips about a year in advance when I make my reservation. Out of the $4500 or so fare, I put in a thousand. About a month or two before the trip, I call the landing and ask for the balance - which I normally pay off. I have a good idea what the balance is - but I call anyway. Lori tells me I have a zero balance. I tell her she must be mistaken - I do not misplace $3500. She says 'no, I am not mistaken - someone paid off your trip'. WHAT!!!! This is not a tank of gas or a dinner we are talking about here. It is 35 hundred dollar bills. Then I think - perhaps my wife paid it off for my Christmas present. This is essentially a left pocket or right pocket of the same set of trousers routine. So I call her, and she says no. She does not even know which boat I am going on. So I proceed to call everybody I can think of that may possibly be a candidate for doing such a dastardly deed. I say 'dastardly' - because I do not have a $3500 'thank you' in my repertoire. Assuming this person knows me well enough - this person knew...one, I would be driving myself nuts trying to figure out who it is...two, I would be relentless in trying to pay back the deed. It has been over five weeks now, and I have no clue who did it. I mean, I'm not going to not go....and I could not be more thankful....but HOLY SHIT!! Neither Lori or Brian, the owner is giving up any info. Brian Kiyohara is one of those success stories in the fishing business I wrote about earlier. Having known him for a good part of the last 20+ years, I thought surely he would tell me who this culprit is, and put me out of my misery. But, nooooo. Well, in less than three weeks, I will be on the same boat with him for 14 days. Question is, how badly do I want to know?

Decline of recreational fishing and other random thoughts.

As some of you may or may not know, I have quite the drive to/from work. I drive approximately 200 miles one way, stay in a hotel for a couple of nights then drive home - almost every week. Which leads to a considerable amount of time by myself in the car with plenty of time to ponder. For instance, since there is almost a certainty that I will encounter automobile traffic - I started to wonder why? Firstly, for every mile of freeway - a considerable number of cars can line up bumper to bumper. Let's see, if a car is 10 feet long and a mile is 5,280 feet - that means 528 cars can line up for each mile of freeway. If they all moved at the same speed, they should all be able to move at a particular speed - let's say 65 miles per hour. So the guy in the front of the line is moving at 65 miles per hour, but the guy behind him is going 64 miles per hour, and the guy behind him is going 63 miles per hour - and so on. That means the 65th car in line is at 0 miles per hour. I think the traffic jams in LA are some form of this thought. At 1/2 mile per hour less per car, the 130th car is at 0, and at 1/4 mile per hour less per car - 260th car is at 0. That's basically a half a mile. Most of you would think....way too much time on my hands. Correctomundo, as Samuel L. Jackson said in Pulp Fiction. Then another good one - ass gaskets. Who the hell thinks much about those 'keep your butt germ-free while sitting' wastes of paper. Well, I used to find myself almost shitting where I was not supposed to while breaking the perforations along the middle of the gasket. I was relating this to my co-workers one day and lo and behold find out that this de-perforating pre-defecating ceremony is gender specific. I was going to call into the Mark and Brian Show on KLOS and relate this to those guys - but they quit before I got around to it. It's only the men that tear the perforations before placement and finally discovering nirvana. Women are much smarter than that. They just place the gasket on the seat and promptly sit down. The middle just breaks the perforations from the pliable arse applying pressure at the perforations and the middle just floating down below. So I tried this. Well, my arse shape must be different. The middle just stays there and nothing happens. Much akin to running into an invisible wall. There's much more - but fishing....that's what I'm supposed to be writing about. When I first started ocean fishing around 1963, there were lots of choices for public recreational fishing. There were boats and barges all along the coast of southern California. Earlier posts describe the barges from Malibu Pier to Long Beach. Each of these barges and boats were operated by a landing. There was enough public interest for multiple landings in very close proximity to each other. A lot of the old fishermen talk about how good the fishing used to be. I am not so convinced. I still believe there were more days spent fishing than catching. If you look at the numbers of fish caught, no doubt there were more fish caught - both commercially and recreationally than today. But the number of players are vastly different. I don't remember the exact numbers - but I recall looking at the number of fishing licenses bought in California these last few years - versus 40 or 50 years ago. They are about half. So what is it that chased the fishermen off? In all likelihood a variety of factors. Increases in oil prices resulting in fishing fare increases, vast increases in recreational choices and lots of other reasons, I am sure all contributed. In 1963, an overnight fishing trip would cost around $14. I don't know about diesel fuel - but a gallon of regular at the Texaco or Atlantic Richfield around the corner was around $0.31 so I would think diesel was considerably less. Matter of fact, I remember seeing gas at a Lerner station for twenty some-odd cents. Well the highway diesel is now just under $4 at 3.90/gal. I do not know the exact price of diesel in 1965 - but, in a little less than 50 years the price of diesel goes from around ten cents to 3.90 per gallon. Astonishing. So the price of an overnight fishing trip goes from $14 to $100+. Fishing for most folks just is not that exciting. No wonder the sales of fishing licenses are half of what they were. On the other hand, with less fishing pressure - are the fish populations on the increase? Add all the protection and environmental concerns and you would really think the biomass of fish would be nothing short of incredible. Perhaps the commercial and recreational fishing pressure had been so heavy for so long, that it will take lots of time to recover. So at some point in time in the future, the fishing will become what some of us 'old-timers' would call....'the old days'. Fishing was good in 1965...no doubt. But I have had days quite recently that was also pretty damn good. So maybe the good old days were really in the early 1900's......

aging fisherman

Getting old with Fishing addiction I’m not that old yet – pushing 60 is not that old. However, it won’t ever get confused with being young – even to most older folks. Being married during this aging process makes the whole experience much more bearable. There are hiccups that should be avoided however. A few years ago, I was on one of the open party boats out of Port San Luis. We were fishing somewhere around Diablo – when I started to get uncomfortable. I don’t usually get seasick – so I didn’t know what the hell it was. As time went on, I got progressively more uncomfortable – and the sensation started to switch to pain. Pain in the lower abdomen. A short while later, I curled up in a fetal position and couldn’t move. Captain Sal called PSL Harbor Patrol – who promptly came out in their overpowered inflatable and picked me up. Back at PSL – an ambulance was waiting for me. This is the first time I had ever ridden in an ambulance. At the hospital, they found out I was passing a kidney stone. Had no idea passing a kidney stone could be this debilitating – and painful. My wife Pam comes into the ER and what’s the first thing I say to her? ‘Honey, I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to go fishing anymore!!!’. As the undaunted king of afterthought, I have had many regrets about that one. More recently, I have suffered torn retinas in both eyes. Until recently, a ‘floater’ was something I saw in the toilet. Well, a few months ago, the ophthalmologist found a torn retina and floaters in my left eye - now I am the proud owner of a right eye with ‘floaters’. The ophthalmologist says it is a relatively common occurrence – as we get older. What next? The recent movie – ‘The Bucket List’ makes more and more sense as I get older. The part where Jack Nicholson’s character says – ‘There are three things you learn as you get older – never trust a fart, never waste a hardon and never pass up a bathroom’. Well, the question of trusting gas as gaseous without solids is not as age-related as all of that. I am convinced most if not all folks shit their pants. They just don’t all admit to it. I freely admit to it now. So, really it is the admitting part that is related to age – not the shitting your pants part. Doesn’t seem that long ago, that I would wake up in the middle of the night with a piss-hardon and dang if I could bend it to be able to pee in the toilet. I would end up peeing in the shower – that way, I wouldn’t have to wait for eventual pliability. Now, despite the condition – it is pliable enough to bend in a downward direction. And yes, if there is an available bathroom – I ask myself more than once, ‘do I need to go?’. And more times than not, I go in anyway – you know, the ‘hearing water makes you want to go’ thing – and somehow, the proximity makes me want to go anyway. So what does all this have to do with fishing? Not much I guess. I just repowered my boat with a nice Honda outboard – and here I sit, in front of the computer typing this….not able to go because I just had surgery to repair my second retinal tear. Joy.

Barge fishing in the late 60's, early 70's

There's not much for barge fishing these days. Matter of fact, there may not be any left....that I know of anyway. When I first started fishing in California in 1963 there was a lot of barges. My dad used to take me to Malibu Pier to fish. I remember being envious of the guys with long rods that used to fish for halibut. My tackle was an outfit from Thrifty drug store. A Roddy combo sufficient to catch perch. In fishing from the pier, I would hear the announcement over the PA - 'the Way We Goooo!' I think that was the name of the ferry boat taking anglers out to the barge - 'Star of Malibu'. After telling my dad how much I just had to go fishing on the barge - he took me out there. While I don't have any detailed memories of the fishing, I do remember hooking large bonito. By the time I went to the barge - I had a Tuna King rod and an Optimo reel. Thrifty Drug Store used to carry fishing stuff - the line was this bright blue line. I wish I had pictures. I used to also go to Payne's Sporting Goods on Redondo Beach Boulevard. There was a guy named Jerry working there that fished everywhere. I also used to go to Yo's. All via a skateboard I made in Mr. Creasy's wood shop at Peary Junior High School. By the late 60's I was fishing a lot. At Pierpoint Landing, there was a barge tied up at the end of the docks - 'Davey's Locker' or something like that. Matter of fact, I think it was parked by Dearden's Fish Market. Lots of tomcod and bonito, and lots of fun. I also fished a lot in King Harbor (Redondo Beach) - riding my Schwinn Stingray from Gardena. The bonito fishing was awesome in the harbor. I'm almost positive there were three (3) barges you can fish from Redondo. The Sacramento, California and danged if I can remember the third one. There were two ferry boats taking anglers to and between the barges - Cutty Sark and Voyager. I think the Voyager is still at Redondo. Fishing on the bottom you could catch these slimy icky things called black cod. Man, if I only knew. I love eating those things today. Quite the delicacy. The Sacramento was the nicest barge - I think it was a converted gambling ship - so there was lots of shady areas to fish from. The other two were all open - so on hot days, you got cooked. I didn't really catch anything particularly interesting - bonito, mackeral, various rockfish. I remember hearing about bluefin tuna being caught - but never saw one. The only tuna I saw were on the half day boats out of Redondo. That was a lot of fun. Barge fishing was fun - but once I discovered fishing from open party boats, I did not fish much from barges. I think there were a lot of barges to the south - Seal Beach, Huntington Beach and even further south. I recently got a book describing barge fishing in California. I think I caught the tail end of this type of fishing. I wonder how they would do now?

Another long trip for the books

It's been a few weeks, but I had the privilege of going on another long trip. I finally got to go fishing with my old friend Brian, on his boat American Angler. The boat was as described by Randy on the Star. It was identical - sans a few details. There are no heads downstairs. I don't know why I wake up multiple times to pee when I'm on a boat. Doesn't happen when I'm at home - only on the boats. I have to think about that one. At any rate, the lack of a bathroom downstairs was a thorn. I am relatively convinced that at least some of the passengers pee in the sink. I find it hard to believe I am the center of the universe on this issue - and so the next time I am on this boat, into the sink it's going to go. The weather stunk the whole trip. The way down was only reasonable because we were going with the weather. The only reasonable weather was when we were in the anchorage area of Clarion - for dinner and sleep, and the last two days of travel before we were back at the dock. The fishing in the zone was in lumpy weather. But the fishing was good. We had four and a half days to fish - this was a 12 day trip. Once we dialed in the big fish bite to be around 4 in the morning - I promptly hooked one big fish each morning. I hooked four - and handed off one. I put three big fish in the holds - along with another seven from 100 to 160 lbs., along with a couple of hoo. Good fishing. I now have twelve big fish for the last three trips. The odds are now stacked against me for big fish on future trips. I cannot possibly keep catching big fish at this rate. 4, 5 and 3. Wow. The crew was awesome. As I suspected, Brian had assembled the best crew. Nobody had to tell any of them to do anything. They all knew exactly what to do. Every night at dinner, Brian would give everyone an update on what the fleet was doing. Brian turned into one of the deckhands whenever we were fishing. The only time he was a captain was when he was running the boat to and from the fishing zone. My partner Mark did not go on this trip. But I am certain he would have agreed that the experience would have been one of the better ones. Henceforth, I think the long trips are now down to two boats - Star and the Angler. At some point, I would like to go on the Excel and Indy. But until they get their RSW fish dialed in, it will be tough going on the big boats. By chance, I shared the stateroom with an old friend, Tom. Tom was a deckhand working with Brian about the same time I was working on the Mustang. Tom had gotten off the boats - and established himself at a very prominent BMW dealership and is doing well. He's been going on one long trip a year - similar to what I'm doing. The only thing missing - was a big fish (200+ lber). I was fortunate enough to be able to help him reach that goal. Should have seen his face. He couldn't stop staring at the fish - nor could he wipe the smile off his face. Classic. I'll write a more detailed report later on this trip.

Repetion and aging as it relates to Long Range Trips

I have signed up for another long trip. This time, going fishing with my old friend Brian Kiyohara. I have known Brian a long time. I don't remember exactly when I met Brian - I think I was working at Yo's and going to college? Somewhere around there - it's almost 2013, so that would make it about 25 years ago or so. We fished half days on the Redondo Special, fished for Bay and Sand Bass in King Harbor. Brian has this photographic memory - and he remembers everything. I will be on the boat in a couple of weeks - and am really looking forward to fishing with my old friend. It's a twelve day trip, a tad shorter than the fifteen days of the last few years. I haven't been on the American Angler since it was a day boat out of Point Loma owned by Don Sansome. It was one of the newer boats then - I wonder what year that was? I don't recall what we went fishing for or where we went. But at most it was a day and half trip - more likely an overnight. I am really looking forward to hearing some of Brian's memories as well as fill in lots of gaps in my memories. I mention repetition and aging, as I have recently reviewed this blog - and found that I have become repetitious. Since I have little for excuses for this repetition, I am blaming it on age. This blame also induces mortality checks. But all of it is shadowed by this upcoming trip as I slowly prepare for this upcoming trip, and many thoughts are going through my head. How I have become a member of the captive audience of long range fishing. Since my last trip - I have been lulling myself to sleep at night thinking about flylining a salami over and over. And getting bit over and over. Somehow makes me forget about everything else. I don't really have any burning desire to catch a 300 or 400 lb fish - I just want to be on the boat fishing for big Tuna. What am I going to do if I get tired of fishing for these things? What am I going to lull myself to sleep with then? What a thought! The trip is only 11 days away. WOW!!