Saturday, October 15th, 2005
7:20 - 8:45 or so.
I got an early morning fishing date arranged with Allen, my neighbor from up the street and a local Santa Cruz fishing celebrity. He wanted to go perch fishing before heading up to work, and suggested the beach at the San Lorenzo rivermouth. I had my doubts about this being a good spot this week, but what the hey, I hadn't been there to check it out, so why not? We arranged to meet up at 7am -- ok-ok, so it is early for me!
Fun going fishing together, but I had had some trepidation about this when thinking about it earlier; the 'what if he does better and more fish than me' sort of thing. It has been kindof convenient fishing alone, as I don't have anyone else there to compare against. On the other hand, some humbling experiences would likely be good for learning. As it turned out, I came to the conclusion that flyfishing folks need to have strong egos or at least not get rocked easily, when going fishing with others who use spin-tackle, as there are many advantages with spin gear, and some loss of confidence can result. The other conclusion was that today I should have rigged up with my spinning gear instead.
We park as close as we can. The boardwalk is quiet, but people are moving about as today is also the Santa Cruz Band Review -- I played in it too, when I was in High School marching band -- so all the yellow buses are lining up where they pick up the bands for the trip home.
We gear up (Allen has damp neoprene waders -- eew) and walk out to the beach. Calm and beautiful morning. I don't see sunrise much, but at least now sunrise is approaching a time I can consider being awake at. Maybe I'll do this more often now. Some waves, sometimes big ones. I'm still casting the outbound line, as I had a feeling distance could be important today. First casts, we realise that there is a ton of kelp in the surf. Bummer.
We cast for a while. We run into a buddy of Allen's whose son is tossing a striper plug. He says that this summer was great for stripers, on this beach. Hmm.. They move off and we cast more. Allen says he can feel some fish out there, hitting his grub. Little 'tic's. I'm wishing that I could feel anything. He can keep his line above the crashing waves. My line gets swept along with the crashing waves. Allen puts some smelly-juice on his grub and moves over toward the end of the beach -- the east side by the rocks -- and gets a fish on. Turns out to be a nice jack smelt that took the grub after just a couple of cranks of the reel. It gets posed for the hero-shot, and is returned to the waves. Nice fish, Allen!
We cast some more, but all I'm pulling up is kelp. If this had not been a shared outing, with Allen's time-constraints, I would probably have left the beach after about 3 casts, to find someplace else without all the junk, er.. I mean, completely appropriate organic matter detrimental to my goal of catching a few fish.
Allen signals something to me. I think he's holding his cellphone, telling me he has to go, but it turns out he was holding a small barred perch. No more fish, and after a little while longer, Allen has to take off to go to work. I cast a bit more and then pack up as well. He goes off with the satisfied fisherman feeling. I got skunk breakfast. Fortunately, the last morning at Waddell is still having its positive effect on me, so I'm not too disappointed, and the next fish on will feel doubly sweet now.
For future trips, I picked up a nice stainless water canister, with a shoulder sling. I think I'll also buy a bunch of powerbars, and keep a stash in my fishing bag. That way I can pocket one or two before going out on the beach. Less messy than bananas, my staple snack. :-)