BY MERIT McCREA
The Fish and Game Commission (FGC) was to meet up in Fortuna, just after our last issue left for the printers. The meeting was slated for August 14th and 15th. Conservation Association of California Executive Director Wayne Kotow and I scheduled to meet up a day prior to fish with Tim Klassen on his 6-pack boat Reel Steel the day prior. This is how it went down.
Klassen is also a member of the Pacific Fisheries Management Council’s Groundfish Advisory Sub-Panel with me. The group consists of groundfish fisheries representatives from the states of Washington, Oregon and California, commercial trawlers, hook-and-line, recreational, and charter boat.
Klassen is the charter rep for Nor-Cal while I’m the charter rep for SoCal. His boat is in Eureka, a few miles up the road from the small town of Fortuna.
The plan is to get out on the water for a short fishing trip and be back dockside by 2 pm.
California Fish and Wildlife Marine Region Manager has traveled all the way north to meet with local fishermen in NorCal. The meeting is at 4 pm that afternoon.
It’s a region of coastal Cal locals affectionately refer to as “behind the redwood curtain” for the perception of being the “Lost Coast” – forgotten about by the rest of the state when it comes to public policy.
Touching down at the California Redwood Coast – Humbolt County Airport, it feels like landing in a small country airstrip.
I walk across the tarmac from the plane an into the airport building. On the left is security, TSA, which is little more than a desk with some scan gear next to check-in. On the right is baggage claim.
Out the front door, there is no line-up of cabs, just a municipal bus with no one aboard. The airport is 16 miles from Eureka and half-way to Fortuna – another 16 miles south.
Two bucks gets me past Cal-Poly Humbolt in Arcata and on to Eureka. The following morning Klassen picks me up and we head to the docks at Woodley Island in the narrows between Arcata and Humboldt bays, Kotow meets us there.
Weather is fantastic, best in like a month. The choice is made to chase tuna, rather than float for Pacific Halibut out in 300 feet of water on the flats.
Marine life abounds, murres, aukletts, whitesided dolphins and Dahl’s porpoise as we cross several current breaks. About an hour-and-a-half out we put the jigs out, 6 of them, 2 from the tips of small outriggers, 2 from the port and starboard rod holders pointed out and another pair from each corner set out short – spread is long outside and short in the middle.
A few minutes later, the first jig strike, a single and after some debate as the fish is dragging along, it’s determined I’m up. After a little bit of a tussle it’s in the boat and the 15 pounder is the first albacore Wayne or I have seen live in like a decade or more!
Klassen has a method for dealing with these guys. He nets them with the Promar hook-resistant landing net, then puts them in bleed-bags hanging over-board.
On the way into the bag, he pulls a gill-raker. The result is a fully-bled fish, and no blood on deck or splashed all over. From there they are slushed into a fish tote.
Next strike is a triple. Wayne and I wind, one fish is left hanging and Klassen puts out a fly-lined anchovy. We share the netting and deck tasks. After that I think is a single and then a double.
Wayne tosses the mega-bait on a spinner and Klassen keeps the bait opportunity going.
We have basically started working back east toward barn when first one rod goes down, then two more, a forth and a fifth. We drag them a bit hoping for that final feather to get bit, but it doesn’t.
So the math is 5 fish going, 6 lines in the water and 3 of us. Surprisingly there is no “chaos.” We pull in a few, and leave two hanging, one partway out and the other somewhere out there.
Wayne tries again with the iron and Tim on bait. We’re hopeful but finally we wind the last two in and decide it’s time to head for home.
But it doesn’t quite work out that way. As morning turns to noon the fish hit the surface and we can’t pass then up.
Wayne tosses the mega-bait on a spinner and Klassen keeps the bait opportunity going. Kotow hooks one on the iron and hands it off to me, but I donk the hook-and-hand fish and it spits the hook.
Klassen does hook one on bait and I scoop it. I’m sure I’ve jumbled the exact order of things in this story but that’s how I recall it.
As we make our way in we pass another couple of spots of breaking fish. It’s been an amazing morning, mostly because of the flat-calm conditions along this notoriously windy section of California’s coastline.
The math on the travel from SoCal is flying was more expensive and with arriving early enough to check bags and not be stressed getting through TSA, only saved maybe a couple of hours travel time each way, even with a minimal lay-over.
Then there was not having a vehicle without renting one, minimal personal gear and limited ability to bring back the catch. I was fortunate for having friends locally, Tim and his wife Sherrie.
From now on I’ll be driving anywhere that can be reached in 10 hours or less by car, with rare exception.
