Kayak Fishing Adventures on Big Water’s Edge

We all know that there are NO FISH IN LA JOLLA, so I thought I would write a fictional account of what might have happened today if I had gone fishing. For the sake of realism, I will pull the names for the cast of fictional characters from the list of some of the regulars who visit this forum. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead is coincidental.

Since I am telling the story, the narrator will be me, sometimes known as Bob. The story needs a handsome Mediterranean guy so I will call him Yani. Other characters include Dave, sometimes known as Driftwood and a couple newbies I will call the Ryan Brothers.

Remember, this is a totally fictional tale but to make the reading interesting, I have included some photos that may have been enhanced with a few Photoshop techniques... maybe not.

So here is the story. I have not been very successful on my last few fishing adventures. My wife was having her book club over for lunch today and I was told to make myself scarce. Going fishing seemed like the appropriate thing to do so after I took care of the morning’s important business stuff, I headed to the launch.

I did not get on the water until after 9:00 and the place was empty. I saw one recently landed kayak that had blood on the deck but otherwise no evidence of fish. The owner was nowhere to be found so I geared up and headed out, looking forward to the day’s adventure. The launch was easy but I quickly noticed that the Red Tide had taken a firm hold on the area. As I peddled out, it got worse. It looked like I was traveling down the muddy Mississippi.

Most of the kelp had been swallowed up by the Red Tide so I kept peddling west. At about 85 feet, the water cleared and became that beautiful blue-green color that we know often holds some fish. I began to make bait. The bait was small and a mixture of greenbacks and Spanish but they looked healthy so I filled my tank.

Just as I unhooked my last bait and dropped it into the tank, the water around me exploded. Others have told me about this but I had never experienced it in person. I was in a football field size feeding frenzy. Dozens, probably hundreds of Yellowtail were crashing bait on all sides of me. I had not yet put bait in the water so I grabbed my jig stick and let the iron fly.
Within seconds, on my first cast, I was hooked up.

This was my first fish on a surface iron. The fish was pissed and immediately headed for the kelp. I tried to peddle out of range but the fish had other ideas. I fought the tough fight for about ten minutes but the fish made it to the kelp and got good and stuck.

My jig setup has mono. I could not hope to rely on the kelp cutting capability of Spectra so I tried something else. I pulled on the fish close to the breaking point of the line and then let up. When I did, the fish started to swim away. I reeled the slack back in only to be stuck again. I repeated this technique for about half an hour until suddenly I saw color. The fish was spent so I gently reeled him to my yak.

I know it was a dumb move but for some reason, I did not want to stick this beautiful tired fish with the gaff. I reached for the gills, planning to just lift the fish onboard. Bad decision. When the fish felt my touch he pulled away and the hook came free. As this beauty swam slowly away, I thought of how to spin this event so I would not look like a dufus. Catch and Release! That’s what I did. And when I got home, I hugged a tree.

Well, at least I had bait. I pinned one on and started trolling. Since I was supposed to be working, I decided to take a few minutes to check my messages and return some phone calls. I was about to leave a message for some customer who had called in when my reel started screaming. I mean really screaming… louder and faster than I had ever experienced before.

I hung up mid-message and started working the fish. This guy was really moving. I had a sleigh ride like never before. The good news was that I was far from the kelp and this fish was hooked on my 65 lb spectra setup. I could wait him out.

Eventually, I landed this fish without incident. Now what? My Revo does not have many places to store a fish. The best place is in the stern behind the bait tank but there is no way I could strap a fish down by myself without flipping the kayak. I scanned the horizon and saw a couple of guys about a half mile away.

I peddled over to one of the yaks and recognized Yani. With his help, my fish was securely bungeed to my yak. Yani and his fishing partner for the day Dave, had not had any luck so far. Maybe I was the good luck charm or maybe it was just time for these guys to get some love but within a few minutes of joining these guys, Dave hooked up. It was a nice YT, about the size of mine, (18 lbs).

As Yani and I congratulated Dave on his great fishing skills, Yani hooked up as well. It was another 18 pounder but according to Yani, it fought like something much bigger.

Attachment 2285

Attachment 2286

And so the day went. Nearly everyone I saw on the water this day had a fish.

It was getting late and my wife’s book club meeting was over so I prepared to head in. Just then I saw a couple of guys in a tandem hooked up. I peddled over to see what was going on and got there just as they gaffed another nice YT.

These were the Ryan brothers, whom I had not met before. One brother had caught a Yellowtail earlier in the day. This fish was caught by the other brother. Both fish were firsts for these guys from a kayak.

Now the story gets a bit weird. As I circled their yak snapping photos of their trophy, the boys were nearly overcome with joy, high fiving and snapping photos of their latest catch. It was a great moment. And then it happened.

Attachment 2287

Attachment 2288

I watched it happen and am still not quite sure what caused it. Within a few seconds of the last photo that I took, their kayak was upside down. Everyone and everything was in the water. I peddled over as quickly as I could and grabbed whatever I could find floating. Unfortunately, the only things floating, other than the brothers were some empty beer cans.

When I met the guys on the beach they told me that they had tallied up their equipment losses for the day. Five rods and reels, a bunch of tackle a camera and who knows what else. The total came to about $2000. They even lost the beautiful fish that they were celebrating. All that remains are the photos that I took.

Thus ends this probably fictional tale of a day on the water off La Jolla. It could have happened just as I told it but then everyone knows that there are no fish in La Jolla.

Bob