My brother Terry and I did a bit of fishing back in the day.
My earliest memory of fishing was at Marine Stadium, near Long Beach, California back in the mid-Fifties. Our family would go there to ski on our speedboat “Skeezix” at least once per month. Terry and I learned how to ski there when we were maybe 8 years old. Most of the time we weren’t skiing (as my parents and their friends hogged the action), so we’d wander down to a railroad trestle with a length of kite string and a safety pin, locate some small crabs for bait, and fish for Bullhead and Perch.
At around he same time, my Dad and a buddy developed a vacation house for us in San Miguel Bay just north of Ensenada, Mexico.
Every once in a while, my Dad would arrive home on a Friday afternoon after work, hitch up Skeezix to the little Ford station wagon, and we’d head to Ensenada, which was a couple hundred miles south of our home. My Dad and Mom were scuba divers and would score some huge lobsters from the local waters. My Dad’s uncle “Les” and his wife “Peggy” also had a home there and Les did a lot of fishing in his small, outboard-powered cabin cruiser. I fished with him, occasionally, and caught some nice Ling Cod up near Salsipuedes.
My Dad used to anchor our ski boat out in the bay near our house, and we’d have to take a skiff out there to board it. One day, I think my Dad dropped me off at the boat and I sat there all day long fishing by myself. I caught three large Halibut (probably ten to thirty pounds) that day and my uncle “Larry” swam out to the boat, and we swam back to shore with my big catch. There was some good eating that night, and I was forever known in the family as a “The Fisherman”.
At that time, my brother Terry was not interested in fishing. He spent a lot of his time in Mexico scrounging un-exploded firecrackers and blowing them up. I think he was a closet arsonist; in fact, he once set a hill on fire near our home by throwing a lit sparkler into some dry weeds.
I didn’t do any fishing as a teenager or young adult, as we didn’t live near the ocean and there were too many other things to occupy my time. As a matter of fact, I can’t recall doing any fishing of note until my brother bought a nice 24′ Bayliner Trophy boat when he was maybe 40 years old.
We did a lot of fishing in that boat over the years. He launched it out of Long Beach and we’d fish the breakwater, the Horseshoe Bank, Palos Verdes, the Huntington Flats, and Catalina Island. Initially, we had no trouble catching (and releasing, for the most part) a lot of Bonito, Mackerel, Barracuda, Sand Bass, Calico Bass, Sheepshead, and an occasional Albacore Tuna. As the years went by, and Southern California’s population soared, the fishing stocks became depleted. One of the reasons for this was all of the Vietnamese immigrants who loved fish, would put six guys in a skiff, head out to the Horseshoe Bank, and scour the area for any kind of edible sea creature, legal or not. There were also thousands of other fisherman out on the water on any given day, snagging anything they could, and the Southern California coast eventually became overfished and fairly devoid of good fish.
It got so bleak, and we were so desperate for action, that we once headed out 100 miles offshore to the Cortes Bank to find some reported Yellowfin Tuna. It took us four hours to get there but, luckily, the ocean was glass, which was highly unusual. There were, of course, no tuna out there on that day; I caught one Gray Shark by accident. Then, we had the four-hour return trip ahead of us, with the ocean chop increasing as we headed toward shore. We got to Catalina Island and we’re close to running out of gas. We pulled into the fueling dock just as the employee was locking up to go home. We begged him for some gas and he obliged. That was lucky for us, as the ocean got really rough on those last 26 miles. We never would have made it back without that extra gas.
At about this time, Terry and I got interested in charter fishing trips. I think one of the first times was a trip to Mazatlan, Mexico with some friends where we hunted down a number of Sailfish. We later did some sportfishing out of Cabo San Lucas, trying for Marlin and Yellowfin Tuna but not catching many.
Later, we made some trips down to La Paz and Punta Colorada (Gulf of California/Sea of Cortez), and had a good time fishing on panga boats and small cruisers for Dorado and Roosterfish. My brother Terry caught a 125-pound Marlin one day while we were trolling for Roosterfish. We had great times there but, unfortunately, the “bite” was lame… too much overfishing, a lot of it illegal, by Japanese trawlers in the Sea of Cortez, once the richest fishing grounds in the world.
Terry, our friend “Rudy” and I flew up to Sitka Island (Alaska) one Fourth of July for several days of fishing for Halibut, Salmon, and Ling Cod. It was a great trip: nice crew, beautiful setting, and lots of fish. On the last day, we found a “honey hole” about a half mile offshore, with Killer Whales meandering about, big Bald Eagles on every coastal pine tree, and plenty of “barn door” Halibut action. The limit was two Halibut per angler, and it was apparent that there were big ones at this location, so we ended throwing back anything we caught under 100 pounds. I had the biggest catch of the day: a 7-1/2 foot, 200-pound beauty. I felt like a big shot until we got to the dock and I saw a puny Japanese guy with his 300-pounder.
Over the years, Terry, a buddy from work named “Ken”, and I had done a number of overnight charter trips to Catalina and the San Diego area to catch whatever was running at the time, typically Sea Bass, Barracuda, Bonito, Calico Bass, and Albacore Tuna. The conditions on those small charter boats were crowded, stinky, and unruly. Guys would get sick belowdecks in their bed and puke, causing everyone else down in that confined hell hole to get sick as well, and everyone would scramble up and out of the dungeon to vomit over the side. One time Terry started to get nauseous, so he went to the head and took a great gulp of water. It was salt water, of course, and he had to run to the rail before projectile-vomiting.
The three of us (Terry, Ken and I) eventually graduated into the long-range charter fishing genre. We all bought a bunch of equipment and jumped into the sport. Initially, we did 3- and 5-night trips out to Guadalupe Island (about 400 km southwest of Ensenada, Baja California) to fish for Albacore Tuna, Yellowfin Tuna, Yellowtail, and an occasional Bluefin Tuna.
Guadalupe Island is most famous for being surrounded by shark-filled waters. Lots of diving tours go there, featuring underwater cages to safely get up-close-and-personal with Great White Sharks.
We had a great time fishing, but that place is heavily-populated with California Seals and, therefore, Great White Sharks, so it was common to lose your prized catch right at gaff when a seal or shark would simply cruise by and bite a huge chunk out of it. We hated those seals, who were just playing around in our workspace, and everyone would cheer when a Great White would grab a seal and devastate it.
Eventually, we moved up to the 8- to 10-day charters out of Fisherman’s Landing at Point Loma (San Diego). The “Excel” was our favorite boat: 124’ long, with a 32’ beam, plush cabins, a totally professional crew, and a limit of 24 fishermen. These guys knew where the fish were and how to catch them. Our fishing buddies on board were seasoned pros, for the most part.
We did a bunch of trips on the Excel out to Alijos Rocks. It consists of three remnant rock stacks from a former underwater volcano, I believe, about 542 miles south of San Diego and 150 miles offshore (west of Magdalena Bay, Baja California Sur).
The three rocks are the surface manifestations of a seamount which collects and funnels nutrients to the surface. It is a world-famous spot for catching large Wahoo, Yellowfin Tuna, Yellowtail, and occasional Bluefin Tuna.
The Excel loads up with thousands of Sardines for bait at Point Loma before leaving on the trip. However, the bait of choice for big sport fish is Squid, and those are caught by the fishermen and crew at night on location at Alijos Rocks. They are easy and fun to catch using jigs and spotlights to bring them to the surface. The big ones are saved for kite fishing. Night time is also the right time to catch large Yellowtail, which live near the rocky bottom. Stout poles, heavy line, and two-speed reels are required to catch these super-strong brutes who can weigh 30 to 100 pounds. They are great eating, too.
Yellowfin tuna are caught in the daytime using fly-lined Sardines. However, most of them are in the 20- to 40-pound range; they are the juveniles who gobble up the bait right near the boat. The big tuna got big by not getting caught, and these wise guys seem to stay fifty to one hundred yards away from the boat. The big boys absolutely crave squid, and a kite on a heavy-duty winch is used to dangle the squid at the ocean surface way back behind the boat, with the delicacy just slapping the surface of the sea. Anglers take turns using the kite, and hooking up with a large Yellowfin or Bluefin is almost guaranteed when its your turn “on the kite”.
All of the fishing on the Excel is “stand up” style: none of the sissy fighting chairs that pedestrians use to catch marlin in Florida. A battle with a large tuna can take an hour, using just about all the strength one has to tire out the creature. I recall one guy who hooked up with a 100-pound bluefin tuna on a Loomis fly rod (he was goofing off) and it took him several hours of patience and backbreaking work to bring the fish to the boat.
The highlight of Excel fishing is when we would troll for, and hook up with, Wahoo (known as Ono in Hawaii and in fish markets). This fish is a Barracuda on steroids, the fastest fish in the ocean. Wahoo out at Alijos Rocks are typically 40- to 100-pounds in weight. They have a lot of extremely sharp teeth which often shear off the wire leader that is used in conjunction a large, expensive (back in those days, maybe $25) lure. I would guess that only a fraction of the Wahoo hooked eventually land in the boat. When one comes on board, everyone gives it wide berth, as these pissed off dudes can easily cut up and maim anyone they can get to. All of the excitement, effort and expense to catch Wahoo is worth it, as they are delicious fish to eat.
I recall an evening one on of those trips that was a doozy. I was suffering from some kind of virus when I boarded and was taking antibiotics. One is supposed to avoid significant sun exposure when on antibiotics, but I didn’t give that warning much heed. After a day of fishing in the bright sunlight, I was roasted. That night, my skin began to crawl, itching all over the sunburned areas: I was suffering from sun poisoning.
It was maybe 2 a.m. in the morning, everyone was asleep. I wandered up to the bridge to cool off my rash and there were several crew members there. It turned out that the crewman doing the night watch on the bridge dozed off, fell out of the captain’s chair, and gashed himself something fierce. He required an emergency room visit, but we were several hours from any port in Baja. It turned out that there was a doctor/fisherman on board, a makeshift operating table was devised, and the guy was getting stitched up with hooks and fishing line, I think. When the doc finished up his suture job, he provided me with a heavy dose of Benadryl to ease the miserable itching and I had to keep out of the sun for a few days.
We were on a ten-day fishing Excel trip at Alijos Rocks back in September, 2001. There is no cell phone service out in the middle of the ocean, but the captain can communicate with headquarters (500 miles north at Point Loma) via a satellite phone or short wave. Just before we quit fishing and saddled up for the two-day return to San Diego, the captain learned about the 9-11 attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon.
Our captain decided not to tell us until we got near San Diego harbor, where the Pacific Fleet is based and where extreme security had been established. I believe the ship was boarded and searched before we cruised past the submarine pens near the harbor entrance. It was a very somber return to America, for sure.
Eventually, we got a bit old to be fighting those brutes and my brother’s back issues began to really bother him. We both gave up the sport and sold off/gave away all of our expensive fishing equipment.
All we kept were some great memories.