End of season scramble to get on the last decent forecast available yesterday.  John and I took our chances on a 15 to 25 knot NWS forecast with Small Craft Advisory starting by afternoon.  Windy.com had 15 knot winds coming inshore by 10AM.  Stormsurf was more encouraging though, showing winds at 5 knots or less through mid day or so.  I miss Magic Seaweed, which I would always look at, but it was at the other end of the extreme - often indicating very light conditions when all other pages were blown up.  I've been known to advocate for using several different forecast pages and trying to note how each of them generally does over different parts of the year to accurately predict wind and waves.  Becoming adept at recognizing patterns and knowing local climate features is a huge part of achieving fun and success on the ocean.

Anyway, it wasn't a great forecast, but I felt that we'd be able to fish until at least noon.  Coming from Ukiah area though, John requested a later than usual start so he wouldn't have to get up at 3AM.  I can't begrudge him for desiring to make the morning more bearable, and he's been out on enough trips with me to have proven his dedication to getting on it early, many times over.  We'd arrive well after sun up, start a couple hours later than usual, and if we got cut short by afternoon winds, so be it - this is what I knew John was agreeing to by making his request, and any good guide will acquiesce to such an ask from a long time client and good friend like John.  The other side of the coin is that I will always advise a new client that we need to start as early as possible in order to maximize our opportunities for the day.

Turned out it was pretty nice sleeping in a bit on a fishing day.  My commute down 101 with the sun out instead of the dark of night was quite pleasant, and going over the Shelter Cove Road wasn't a hassle, even with construction going on.  I pulled down onto the ramp to see that John had arrived at least half an hour early, as that's where I was on the schedule - his commute had gone well too.  Warm greetings and a quick exchange of home grown produce, and we were to work setting up our kits for the day.  The ocean - especially right at the launch - was exquisite, and there wasn't a breath of wind.  Thick fog on the water came right up to the shoreline, but the sun was out over town and over our heads.  It was Summertime at its best at 8AM down in the Cove, and we were stoked to be starting our adventure.

We'd talked the night before about fishing along shore to try to find a California halibut, which have been very scarce at the Cove this season.  Now the thick fog right offshore was making that choice look very appealing.  One worry for me was that the abundant baitfish and the presence of salmon would lead to us hooking up with the off-limits chromers that have been so prevalent right near the harbor for the past few weeks.  I had a plan though.

Even though I love to document these trips and to use my writing as a well of inspiration and hopefully positive vibes, I don't really share my tackle and bait information in fine detail - it's a guide thing!  My plan though, to avoid hooking a salmon, was that we'd run a couple of really large and flashy lures that were in my Gampa's tackle box, I've had for years and only briefly tried one time.  They're called "Manistee" by Luhr Jensen, and they'd probably be classified as a 'spoon' but are oversized at about the size of a Pringles potato chip.  With one large barbless hook behind it, it would be hard for even a big fish to do more than lip hook itself on it.  We'd run these near the bottom, and hopefully a halibut would find it irresistible.  As I explained this plan to John and got the gear out and ready to clip on to our swivels, I had noted that there wasn't bait popping all over the place in the harbor like there recently has been, and the water was pretty clear and green instead of the brown 'salmon water' that had been present.  I'd mulled the possibility that the bait would move on and that the salmon would follow them, and it appeared, at least close to the moorings, that that was the case. 

We got the big flashy Manistee's down and slow trolled along, enjoying easy conversation and perfect weather, and sure enough, the big bait party was over right in the cove.  Down the coast a mile or more we could see birds working, and this is consistent with how the bait moves at this time of year.  Our target zone was looking good for finding a halibut. 

We spent the next several hours fishing back and forth along our preferred depth lines and GPS tracks.  Those hours feel like minutes on nice water with the sun out and just enough bites and hookups to keep things exciting.  Having landed a couple of smaller rockfish and missed a couple of other bites, it seemed that the fish were sluggish, and later we'd note that all the species seemed to be short-biting.  I hypothesized that all the bait that had been here for the past weeks had these fish well fed.  They were reacting instinctively to our offerings, but they were so non-committal it was pathetic at times!  Like, you're slow trolling, and your rod just starts to bend like you're snagged or on seaweed, and you wait and watch, and it thumps just slightly, and when you pick it up it's got a fish on it, but several seconds after the initial bite - after you've waited and let that potential halibut munch and get the bait in its throat - it STILL spits your hooks!  Getting played by rockfish, lingcod and - we're sure of it by the headshakes - a few halibut was a blast!

By late morning the fog started burning off, and before long we could see the buoys offshore.  I'd offered to John that we could head out to the reef to string up some of the more reliable biters, but he was happy to keep trying for a flat one.  It wasn't long before his choice paid off.  After a few hookups that we thought would be halibut and turned out to be rockfish or lingcod, John got one on that made itself more apparent.  His rod was pumping, and the fish was staying down - this looked like the right kind!  He brought it up gently as I got in position with the net, and - BOOM! - we were on the board!  Such a fun fishery.  I got one an hour later that looked short in the water, so I left the net in the holder and gave it the Vulcan Neck Pinch to briefly put it on the board.  Twenty-one inches and should've named it Sexy Fins of the Day, but the camera wasn't handy.

Right at high tide I got a different kind of bite.  Slow trolling into about 18 feet of water, I felt a hard thump, and then my line was loaded up.  I worried it was a salmon when the fish moved laterally to the surface to my right, and then it jumped out of the water right between John and I.  Thresher!  After a few jumps and some really strong runs I knew it was hooked well, but they usually cut your leader with their teeth, or their giant tail cuts your mainline and takes everything.  Once I could see this fish up close though, I learned that one of my hooks was in its back.  I also noticed that my weight was gone.  This shark had literally eaten my weight, and when I loaded up the rod, my hook buried into its back.

Now I could see that the position of my hook was making it unlikely that the shark would be able to cut my line with its tail.  I tightened my drag and resolved to wear this fish out and see if I could get it to hand for removal of the hook from its flesh. 
Within about five minutes I had ahold of its tail.  I only achieved this due to its size - the fish was maybe 40 pounds and about 8 feet long (they're half body, half tail, roughly).  As I held it by near the end of its leathery tail, the thresher showed it still had a lot of energy, as it wriggled free of my grip and splashed away on another spirited run, swatting my thumb with its tail just slightly as it escaped.  It stung.  I've always looked at thresher sharks with a mind to avoid being in the Danger Zone with regard to where that whip of a tail could go.

After reeling it back in and catching it by the tail a couple more times, getting a few photos, and also rotating its whole body with my wrist when it would wrap in my leader, I was ready to try to remove the hook from its back.  I held the tail tight and got my pliers on the curve of the hook, and when I applied pressure to roll it out of the flesh, the fish didn't like it at all.  I got a little better purchase on the hook, gave it my best twist and pull, and the hook was free.  No blood appeared from the shark's new wound, but it was a deep plunge with no doubt some damage from yanking that barb out.  I held the shark for just a bit longer, having never had to bring its head out of the water, and when I released it, it swam away strong.  Such a fun hookup, and it was only the second thresher I've ever landed and the sixth landed on my trips over the years.

By mid afternoon things had slowed down for us - with another short-bite every twenty to thirty minutes at that point!  We had the one halibut, a few rockfish and one lingcod put away, so we decided to head over to the rocks and try to find a few more for the stringers.  Another hour and a half or so fighting the current and a significantly bumpier ocean out by the point and we were about toast - it now being five o'clock!

After eight hours on the water we were ready to wrap up the mission, get our traditional photo, break down the fish and head our separate ways.  We landed on a sunny ramp with the tide mostly out still, and a group of locals admired our stringers as a couple of overworked and underpaid fish counters went through our catch.  Cold beers were cheersed, and our smiles of contentment and the happiest kind of weariness were affixed in place for the remainder of the day.

With the sun now dropping behind Point Delgada to the west of us, it was still t-shirt weather on the ramp, where I fully employed the Tailgate Fillet Station after jumping in the water to refresh my focus for an hour of cutting.  I cherish that part of the day, where we've completed what was an open-ended assignment to turn hope, desire and planning into whatever level of success we could muster with the boats and our fishing gear.  There's so much more to that moment though - it's not about the catching as much as it's about the experience that was had, and all of the facets of that experience from the weather to the landscape to the water to the animals to yourself and how you use the time to feel and to learn and to enjoy yourself - it's all part of the goal for the day, and it's what life is all about.  The fish are just a bonus and another way to achieve that cherished, weary smile.

Left town well after the dinner hour, and the wind never did blow.

A few days ago it was announced that the nearshore, boat-based rockfishing season is closing in a week in the Northern Management Area that includes Crescent City, Trinidad, Humboldt Bay and jetties, and the Cape Mendocino area.  This sudden closure is unexpected and a surprise to most, including myself.  With this closure in mind, I figured to get out and fish one of my favorite remote spots as soon as possible.  The forecast wasn't ideal, but it looked good enough to give it a go, so I called up my good friend and most faithful client, David, and we made a plan to get on it. 

Up early to meet David in Loleta where we'd head over the Wildcat together in my truck, I checked the buoy report, and the Cape Mendocino numbers were horrible - 9 feet at 9 seconds!  I clicked on all my forecast pages, and it still looked feasible to fish, but that buoy reading almost had me pulling the plug.  David arrived right on time, we loaded his kayak and gear on my truck, and we were on the road for the Cape.  I took my time over the hills, and when we couldn't see the mouth of Bear River as we descended into Capetown, I figured the fog would also be thick along the coast where we planned to fish.  Sure enough, 10 minutes later we were coming down the Wall into pea soup - the breakers weren't even visible from the road...

No worries - this is what navigation tools are for, and my years of crawling around the rocks, diving the nearshore and kayak fishing offshore along this stretch of coastline have me very confident in my ability to safely guide my guests to and from the fishing grounds.  The key determinations now were about which launch to use and whether a sloppy sea surface might prevent safe boating.  With a Hazardous Seas Warning to the north of the Cape and a Small Craft Advisory to the south, I definitely had thoughts about my assessment of the forecasts and the practicality of fishing on this day.

We would have time to further observe the ocean while unloading, transporting and setting up our boats down by the water, and if things didn't look good, we'd bring it all back up the trail.  With our gear ready and the shoreline still looking fine, we launched onto the foggy ocean around 9AM.  Right away it was apparent that the inshore area was heavily affected by confused chop coming in from the outer waters.  With not much swell at all, the boats were performing fine and not taking water over the bow - always something to watch out for and to avoid.  I confirmed that David was comfortable in the rodeo-like slop, and we pushed out into the fog.  If things were worse out there our day was going to be over, but instead we found that the sea state improved a bit offshore, and there was still no wind.

With the help of electronic navigation tools that are always backed up with redundant compasses, we made our way to the fishing grounds but stayed a bit further inshore than usual.  With our offerings only getting pecked at a couple of times on the way out, the fishing started slow.  Soon though we were both enjoying a steady bite from the black rockfish, and within an hour or so we had several species up.  As was part of the forecast, the ocean mellowed a bit, and the breeze stayed down for us, which is absolutely crucial out there at one of the windiest spots along the coast of California.

For the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon, David and I had a ball catching about an average number of average sized fish.  The trophies that used to regularly come out of the Lost Coast nearshore waters are fewer than they used to be - such is fishing, and any sportsman should hope to 'graduate' from the big fish obsession at some point!  Believe me, wanting a bigger fish is one of the strongest instincts that any man has.  We tried to focus on how happy we were to get on this remote water before the closure kicks in, so how many fish we caught or how big they were weren't our priorities this day.  It feels good to really put effort into appreciating the trip for way more than the fishing, and spending the day with David always provides me with inspiration to look beyond the basics of timing, duration of trip and special targets.  Our big goal of spending more time at this special place before it's deemed off-limits had been accomplished, and the challenges associated with the fog and the less than perfect ocean made the entire day feel successful.  Ironically, the slowish bite added to the overall feeling of challenge, and our deliberately selected harvest had value that goes far beyond the poundage of protein obtained. 

We wrapped up our mission before mid afternoon, and getting back on the beach after being in the thick fog for hours provided its own 'we survived' exhilaration that, along with not getting tossed by a little swell on the beach landing, set the mood at "giddy" for the chores of packing the gear back up the hill and onto the truck.

With the hard work done, we moved down the road to my preferred Tailgate Fillet Station location where the traditional Stringer Display Photo was executed, a bucket of cold seawater was obtained, and for an hour or so I got to enjoy what is always a favorite part of the trip.  Cutting the fish with care and packing away the freshest fillets on ice while enjoying a cold beer is all the better because it's the culmination of a plan that came together on short notice and a day that worked out for us to accomplish what wasn't easy.  The fact that David has obvious and heartfelt recognition of and esteem for the very type of experience that I've described, made him the perfect person to be on this trip with me.

Thank you, my friend, for going on another solid adventure with me.  The day was one of the very best, without a doubt.

**************************************************************

Met DaveTheSynthGuy through NCKA in 2011.

After my Thursday Cove trip I had to get home, unload and rinse the gear, and then it was 3 hours of loading up 8 boats, 9 seats, 9 paddles, 9 PFD's, 9 wetsuits, 9 sets of booties, 9 jackets, 9 crab rings, big pot, cooker, propane and a bucket - one kayak was a tandem, if you're doing the math!  My group was an extended family - all adults - from Nevada, Utah, Arizona and Boston.  They came out to Eureka, and our crabbing trip was their big event for the weekend.  What a great group of people.  They had a ball, and so did I. 

It was really fun to pull off the outfitting on this trip, and now I know that I can fit all the gear for 9 people on my truck at once!  Taking people from out of town on adventures on the salt is such a blast - I'd better start working harder on marketing.   

Big thanks to Holly, Michele, Hebert, Megan, Melynn, Nik, Mitch and Tawny.  Next year hopefully I can get them fishing offshore.

My Seasonal Rounds are kicking in close to home.  The wild blackberries are finally starting to show, and I got out on the bay and found a nice halibut to take home.  Appreciating it for sure.   

Tom and David are on my special trip list - I met them both through NCKA, years ago now.  My call went out early in the week, and these two were in.  With the forecast pages pretty consistent in their prediction of mild seas and winds for Thursday, a south wind and long period swell call had me crossing my fingers.  My hopes were realized when we descended the Wall in drizzly fog to see a smooth ocean below the marine layer.  I was prepared for a breeze and surface chop with low visibility due to fog - not to mention strong currents due to the big tide swings currently.  None of those things materialized, and that had our trio smiling ear to ear to start the day.

We took a few minutes to assess my different launch options, all of which I know well and each having benefits tied to certain conditions including tide, swell direction, winds...etc.  Soon we were dialed in and starting to load gear from the trucks to the beach.  Hopping down the boulder wall with armloads of tackle, bait, safety gear, water and the rest of the toolkit, we got a good warmup before collaborating to move our three kayaks down.  With the forecast indicating that the afternoon should be even calmer than the morning, we proceeded as if we had the entire day to work with, and what a feeling of freedom and joy that was!

With our boats all loaded up, full immersion gear donned, VHF radios tuned to the local channel and ample sunscreen applied, we  were off.  It wasn't long before David pulled up a nice black that shook itself from his hooks, evading capture.  He'd watch a couple more respectable keepers escape like that before employing the net to start building his stringer for the day - it was an all smiles affair.  I was next to have a flurry of catches - 3 vermillion rockfish in a row found my offerings, and just like that I was 75% done with a sub-limit of these wonderful fish.  Tom then got in on the fast action, boating two lingcod to 35". 

The hours go by like minutes out there - especially when the weather is near perfect and the fish are biting.  The Cape treated us so well, and by mid afternoon we knew that we'd better wrap it up and get the rest of the day's jobs done.  An easy landing on the high tide beach had us dodging some foam as we dragged the loaded-down yaks up to the base of the boulder wall, and by the time we had all the gear back up on the trucks a cold beer was in order for sure.

We loaded up, headed down the road to my preferred fillet station location, got our group photos done, and the guide was about to earn his pay!  I got Tom's fish knocked out first - he'd been up since 3AM to get here from Mendocino County, and after celebrating and settling up our business deal, he was on the road for home.  David and I stayed, and the Professor was a busy bag man as we put up the rest of what likely totaled out to over 50 pounds of boneless fillets for the day.

By the time we rolled up the hill toward home the hour had gotten pretty late for a fishing day.  I apologized to David for the trip running so long, but he wasn't having it!  Sometimes in life opportunities come along that will move you out of your comfort zone and demand more from you than 99% of regular activities will.  Being prepared with the right equipment and knowledge are key factors in every one of my guide trips, but the energy and positive attitude that really fuel marathon days like yesterday are fully contingent on the will and determination of the individuals involved. 

That's why my guys are on the Special Trip List.

Big thanks, brothers.  I look forward to the next round.

Stayed up ridiculously late to fulfill a tradition with a great friend.  Things started out slow, with the first couple rounds of pulling my six rings only producing several dozen palm sized bugs.  Domenic got us on the board with a jumbo about 45 minutes in, and soon I got my own keepers with two in a pull on the north end of my string.  Dom pulled a couple more, but there just weren't many bigger crabs - a rock crab was even looking appealing.  We took a beer break around 130AM, and Dom got his fourth as we picked up our gear for the night.  On my very last pull I got a double again, and it was pretty gratifying to take home 4 each on a scratch bite.

Even if we'd skunked or just taken home a few rock crabs, just being out there in the dark, prepared for the weather and easily handling the nighttime seas, hanging with my buddy doing things we've done together for many years - it was outstanding.

Grabbing a thrill and living right - crabbing the bay in the middle of the night.

Epic forecast today had me hoping to guide on the Lost Coast, but it wasn't in the cards for my crew.  I decided to hit the bay since I've heard of some nice halibut coming out lately.  Matthew was able to join me, and we scratched out two apiece over several hours and several miles.  It was nice to get out local, save some gas money, find a few fish and enjoy the company of a great friend.   

Ordered some sunglasses from Chaos Fishing this morning, and three times in a row it said it wasn't taking my credit card.  Then I couldn't get back in to their site.  I called my credit card company and sure enough, there were three charges on my card.  I've disputed two of them, and I'm just hoping I really do get my couple pairs of sunglasses...

Anyone dealt with this company or had a similar experience?