Coastal Update 2021 (It's Not All Bad News)
The hazy scrim of smoke lingering in the skies over our ever-burning California seems to have mingled with the resident fog and produced an eery post-apocalyptic red-grey cloud bank which hovers about 60 feet above sea level at all times of the day.
And that's your coastal update for 9/21. Thanks. And good luck out there!
Kirk-out
Heh... just kidding. But given the state of the world—and California—right now, it seems odd not to mention that our figurative house is on fire. So if you're looking to get out into some cold, wet (ie: non-burning) coastal areas. Here is what's going on. And BTW: it's not all bad news!
Forage Fish
Anchovies
Evidently no one has informed the local anchovy population that the world is on fire. Huge schools of anchovies seem to be propping up everywhere. And many of these are not the usual schools of minuscule pin heads, but proper boquerones-sized anchovy lunkers. Before writing this I drove to my local harbor and spoke to a few strangers (yes, I do this sort of thing in order to research up-to-date, ground breaking reports like this one;). They confirmed what several of my top notch Sea Forager operatives have been telling me: “lot's of bait.” By bait, they meant anchovies. They also told me that the water temp was fluctuating around 63 degrees at the channel buoys. That's warm. Too warm to make a salmon happy but right about where anchovies like it to be (you know the water's warm when you see people body surfing without wetsuits on at local beaches). Years after my TEDx Talk on the subject and the voluminous chapter on Forage Fishes in my Sea Forager Guide, the local citizenry still insists on undervaluing anchovies. Oh well. I saw a guy doing quite well with a small-hook Sabiki at Fort Mason a week ago. Not sure if they're still there. But the jetty in HMB has been a good place to bag anchovies on calm days when they move close to the rocks—but the principle challenge in that location is pelicans. My suggestion: if you can't get the sabiki into the anchovies without risk of snagging birds, better to try a different activity for the day. Here's the some recipes from the fishwife's files. And here's Zak Noles rocking the boquerones:
False Smelt
I don't fish for jack smelt (Champion de la Banana's “basura smelt”) but I know quite a few people who do, so here's what they tell me: jacksmelt have been spotty in the bay this year. Spotty with some great days and some poor days. In other words fishing for jacksmelt this summer has been... well... fishing. There have been some decent jacksmelt days at Candlestick, but one of my old Monkey Face News operatives says that the chance of someone breaking into your car there is about 60% these days. As opposed to 10% a decade ago. Not sure why that would be, but maybe it has something to do with the coming apocalypse (I've never heard so many people using this word, and now look at me, I'm one of them!) My favorite area to get jacksmelt is Robert Wooley Pier next to the Embassy Suites. I do this occasionally for the kids. There's ample room there for them to run around in the grass and at high tide in the summer months there's almost always a few jack smelt around. Watching the styrofoam bobber go down seems to be something most kids find fun. They've also been getting them at Coyote Pt and Fisherman's Park. Yesterday I stopped by Pier 14 and saw a few lunker jacksmelt in a bucket. Thus concludes my jacksmelt update.
True Smelt (Chasing The Sarcasm)
“I go out walking after midnight
Out in the moonlight
just a hoping...”
… that I will get some frickin nightsmelt. And in truth, I always do. The problem is that it takes like 3 hours to get 15 pounds. But at least I get 15 pounds. The rumor mill in my neck of the woods informs me that this has been the best night smelt season in ten years. All I can say is that I must've missed it. I started fishing nighties in February this year and averaged 10-15 pounds per trip. I went once in Feb. Twice in March, twice in April and once in May. But evidently, quoth the rumor mill, “it was wide open” in July. Well, what can I say. I was too early to the dance.
Still it's been better than it was three years ago! Remember this? The most depressing fishing video ever:
Something about the rumor mill: last year I fished nighties all season. At one point a friend of mine who knows very little about nightsmelt (yes, he's barely human) asked me how it went. I said, (I thought with dripping sarcasm) “oh christ I whacked em. I must've got 7 pounds!” About a week later. I ran into another fisherman who knows that I'm a passionate nightsmelt guy. He says to me, “Oh shit Kirk I hear they're whackin the night fish on _________ beach.” So I wait for the next moon, go down to the beach and guess how many nightsmelt I caught in three hours walking the beach like a maniac? That's right 7 pounds. Suspecting where the rumor started, the next day I called my friends and traced the origins of the faulty info. Sure enough, it was me. I was chasing my own sarcasm.
Surf Smelt
I found some surf smelt in the waves
They were golden and supreme
But that is all I'm going to say
Perhaps it was a fleeting dream
Actually it wasn't. They were there. So was I. Wasn't looking for day fish. I was on a rare Lana Turner trip (see below) to a beach I rarely ever fish. The smelt were not spawning. They were not even behaving like smelt. They were hanging in the trough--on an incoming tide (go figya!) I had a net in my back pack, which I had debated leaving at home. I saw some fish. I made two throws and got ten pounds. Went back the next day and got another ten.
And then they were gone.
But at least I saw my favorite fish again! Had a killer dinner and got my kids hooked on 'em. The last time I found day fish was 6 years ago when my boy was 2 years old. Damn, at this rate they'll be back when he's 14.
The Mainstream
Striped Bass
Back in my blogging days all the mainstream big game fishes went by the code name of a classic era hollywood movie starlet--one of my offbeat passions being film noir and B movies. So that when I'd say, "ran into Lana Turner down at Fort Point" there was a lot of confusion from the riffraff and a lot of knowing winks from the MFN fans who were in on the code. Thinking about it now "Barbara Payton" would've made a better code word for striped bass. Being that she chased some real mudsuckers (Tom Neal? Yuck!) and swam in even dirtier waters than Lana did.
This is an amazing book
I'm so over this fishery. And I am ashamed. I mean, my gawd. How many thousands of casts do I have to make in order to catch one of these brutes? I think my last one was two years ago. Of course, I don't fish them where their concentrations are heaviest: in the bay and delta. I fish them on all the local beaches. But seriously, this fishery is like some form of penance for me. The only encouraging thing is that master bass-man Champion de la Banana (who probably fishes 325 days a year and usually catches 40-60 stripers in that time) has caught a whopping total of two fish. I can state this without hesitation. If “the champion” catches 2 striped bass in a given year, I'm definitely not going to catch any. Word has it that the ocean has been dead for stripers this season, but there are some fish in the bay specifically in the Burlingame area. Haven't checked at Ft. Point in months. All I can say is good luck... you're going to need it!
Salmon
The good salmon numbers have been up north of Bodega. But even there I'm getting mixed reports. The commercial fleet did find the fish a few times since the opener. So there have been a few weeks where boats were averaging well over 100 fish per day. But most of the local sporties I know have been disappointed—or have travelled up to Point Arena to get their fish. Some hawgs in the mix though. Or so they say.
Halibut
Despite the fact that I'm getting lots of hook and line hali from two of my favorite small boat commercial guys this season, the shore bite in the bay has deeply sucked. In fact the bay in general has been terrible. I've also heard the same thing up the coast in all the small bays and inlets where hali tend to congregate in the summer. Meanwhile I'm picking up 400 pounds of local hali for Sea Forager tomorrow morning—caught by one guy over the last two days. Said “guy” does not tell anyone where he fishes... but this much I know... it ain't in the Bay.
Sea Urchins
Fall is usually the best time for urchins. So do your part in helping end the deforestation of California's kelp groves. Eat uni—especially from local purple urchins!!!!!
Sea Weed
It sure seemed like there was a lot of nori around this summer. Despite thousands of people on the shores. I didn't get around to formally looking for it till a few days ago and the stuff I found was snail eaten and raggedy looking—as it always is this time of year. Waiting for next year I guess.
Kelp (Update on the purple urchin infestation and end of the life as we know it).
I spoke to a spear fisherman friend A.B. (field agent 009) this morning and after bemoaning the lack of halibut in his favorite spot, he informed me that he is seeing signs of kelp forests rebounding. Certain sections of the ocean floor that were stripped bare last year, he said, “are definitely coming back.” Since this information did not sit well with my end of times narrative, I called the one commercial urchin diver I know... or rather I texted him. Here's his (heavily edited) reply:
“Dude, it's true. I'm seeing it too. But it's early. And there are still tons of {purple urchins} everywhere. I'm not sure how the kelp is breaking through. But it's too early yet. If the water temp goes up another 1 or 2 degrees will it all die off again? An el Nino right now would kill us. And will the the {purple urchins} eventually just eat all the new growth? Check back with me this winter.”
Maybe this is not the ringing antidote to my apocalyptic leanings... but it could be worse, right? Maybe there's a bit of hope? A wee bit? A kernel? A smidgin? Maybe the kelp will "keep breaking through" and our kelp forests will come back? (yeah, and maybe the L.A. Dodgers will move back to Brooklyn; and maybe they'll find a breeding population of thylacines in the forests of Tasmania and maybe... you get the point)... I mean, hope springs eternal right?
Sorry. Truth is, things seem bleak right now and I'm just not fishing enough. Hopefully that all changes by the next time I write one of these.
PS: To those people wondering when I'm going to do tours again, there are two things in the way 1. The delta variant. 2. the vast numbers of people foraging stuff on the coast during these Corona times. Not really excited about the prospect of adding more people to the mix. But stay tuned, there may be hope yet!
P.P.S. AN OUTRAGEOUS REQUEST:
Do you work in publishing? I'm sending out a message in a bottle, so to speak. Since the publication of The Sea Forager's Guide, I've written a novel. And before I dive into the turbid waters of cold-calling agents and publishers who have no idea who I am, I figured it couldn't hurt to cast my line out into the school of Sea Forager friends and see if I get any nibbles. Are there any agents or publishers out there, or friends of said folk? The novel is about a
doomed river. The heroes are an orphaned boy, a very mean raccoon, a brown bullhead and a trout. As you may have guessed, fishing figures prominently. If you liked the humorous anecdotes and the writing style of The Sea Forager's Guide, you will most likely enjoy this book. If you have comments, suggestions or leads please give me a shout, thank you!
P.P.P.S.
NOW ON AUDIOBOOK: THE SEA FORAGER'S GUIDE! After months of reading my own book in the hall closet, the audiobook is now live! I can serenade you with fish tales anywhere you want to go.
Okay, that's it. Until next time, fish on!
Kirk-out
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