A happy young angler with a nice yellowfin tuna caught aboard the Old Glory 2-Day run out of H&M Landing as fall fishing continues to impress.

Dock Totals 10/29 – 11/4: 1502 anglers aboard 70 half-day to 3-day trips out of San Diego landings over the past week caught 1 black seabass (released), 280 bluefin tuna (up to 100 pounds), 43 calico bass, 347 dorado, 1 halibut, 22 lobster (45 released), 40 perch, 142 rock crab, 3039 rockfish, 39 sand bass, 130 sculpin, 62 sheephead, 14 skipjack tuna, 1 thresher shark, 271 whitefish, 599 yellowfin tuna, and 266 yellowtail.

Saltwater: Angler counts and fish counts have been dropping with temperatures as we head into winter in what has been another amazing year for the San Diego fleet. Still, in early November, we are getting good numbers of bluefin and yellowfin tuna, while the sluggish yellowtail bite has improved. Rockfish numbers are very strong, even with the current depth restriction requiring anglers to only take groundfish beyond the 50-fathom (300-feet) line in U.S. waters. Once in Mexican waters, all depths are allowed, though the per-species, per day limit is five fish. So, the numbers would indicate decent deep-water fishing still going on for the boats fishing north of the border. The depth restriction can also account for the lack of lingcod in the counts, as they tend to prefer depths between 60 and 330-feet.

Calico and sand bass are biting well off the kelp and on the flats, respectively. If wanting to target those species, then half-day boats, like the Dolphin, are running afternoon trips to those local spots while their morning runs are generally out to target the deep-water rockfish. If wanting to target bluefin tuna, the more successful trips are those running to the areas between the Corner and San Clemente Island. 1.5-day and longer trips are advised to get some dark hour fishing in, as some of the larger grade bluefin are still biting between sundown and sunup. Take a range of gear, from 25-30-pound flyline live bait setups to heavier 60-plus-pound combos for jigging.

Yellowfin tuna are biting mostly south well off the coast along with dorado, while yellowtail are showing nearer to shore on high spots from the Coronado Islands south along the Baja Peninsula. The better trips to target those species will be 2-days and longer, given the cooling water and need to venture further south where the California Current has a lesser effect on the near and offshore fisheries. Even so, there is a plethora of bait along the coast, mostly anchovy, and signs are good for pelagic species to continue to feed while the water temps remain above 65-degrees or so. I was out on Saturday on my kayak in San Quintin, and bonito targeting the mass of anchovies were biting so heavily I could barely get a lure down through them to the bottom while targeting halibut.

Speaking of which, I ‘learned’ a lesson that day, a lesson I had learned as a kid working the boats long ago. When fighting a big fish to the gaff, it is advisable that once the fish is tired and about to be gaffed, to back off on the drags a little. This way, if the fish bolts or comes off the gaff, it can run without the sudden stress of a frantic fish breaking the line or pulling the hook. Or, in my case, getting nearly dumped from the kayak. One of the times I did get my lure through the bonito, I hooked something large with a familiar head shake. I knew what I had, and after about 30 minutes, my suspicion was confirmed. A large black seabass came up to color, or where first visible, and my heart began racing. The fish was close to five feet in length and probably between 125 and 150-pounds. Not huge, but respectable by any standards. I am in Mexico, and one black seabass per angler per day is allowed, and I intended to take this fish.

Normally, a fish that size would take a bit longer to get to gaff on the 25-pound setup I was using, and it has been my experience with black seabass that they tend to give up and roll due to the stress of the fight over a long duration. This makes them easier to handle. Usually. So, when on the kayak, I tend to ignore my better instincts and button down on the drag once the fish is alongside to keep its head up. On a boat, I would loosen or leave the drag alone, as the boat is a more solid platform, but on the kayak, a fish surging at the last minute tends to simply tow you along until you can get back into gaff range. Well, this fish never rolled, but remained upright. The fight also seemed brief once I saw the size of it, but still, habits are habits, and after over 20-years of fighting big fish on a kayak, I did what I normally do but would never advise; buttoned down on the drag before reaching for the gaff.

When I had the gaff over the fish and was aiming for a collar-shot, it bolted straight down, burying my G-Loomis rod tip deep into the water and nearly rolling the kayak and spilling me and all my gear into the drink. I instinctively put my legs out over the side, not unlike a bull-rider trying to last 8-seconds, heels dug into the hull and turning sideways. Just as I thought, “whelp, looks like I’m swimming” the hook thankfully bent and pulled. And not just any hook, this was a Mustad 8/0 Ultra Point hook, generally a very strong hook and perfectly capable of handling an even larger fish. That I lost the fish was actually kind of a relief. I’m getting older and towing that fish back to the beach would have taken some extra effort.

Still shaking a bit, I looked at the hook and the way it was twisted sideways and concluded, given the size of the fish, that it must have been basically in the jaw and not around it. I don’t think an 8/0 hook could get around the jaw of a black seabass that size. It had been a good morning on the water, and I weighed the option of continuing fishing or heading in before the bonito in the hold began to turn. Bonito is fine eating if kept cool and bled, but not so much so when the fragile meat gets mushy. That’s when I decided my day was done, and with a limit of fresh-caught bonito and a couple bass in the hold as the wind was coming up chilly from the northwest, I made my way back to the launch like a James Bond martini, shaken.

As this has happened in the past, I am reminded again of my greatly missed and dearly departed fishing friend, Ross Zoerhof. He would ask, rhetorically, when I had repeated something not-too-wise, “how many kicks from the same mule does it take?” I reckon I will leave the drags alone from now on.