Posted on August 30, 2014

Nick called and asked if I would be interested in joining him on a trip to Shelter Cove. He had hired a guide to take him to a new type of adventure and to hopefully land his first kayak salmon. As usual in these situations it didn't take much convincing; of courrse I would come out and join.

This was not my first kayak fishing adventure. Nick and I had been friends for almost two years, we paddled and fished together and I had gained quite a bit of experience from fishing the reefs of Mavericks and Pigeon Point. However, I had never caught a salmon, at least not from a kayak, and this would be my new frontier as well.

Shelter Cove

We met up at the cove and since I arrived early in the afternoon I paddled out on a reconnaissance trip. I caught a few black rockies on a reef I would later come to know as 'Bread 'n Butter', talked to a few local fishermen while on the water, and later at the beach saw Keith aka The Lost Anchovy; I had not met him before. We had a brief chat and Chovy had a salmon in his tankwell. Years later I learned that Chovy is a lengendary kayak fisherman on our coast and the salmon catch shouldn't have suprised me. Other than Chovy nobody else seemed to have seen let alone caught any salmon, and things didn't look that rosy I thought.

A couple of hours later Nick arrived. We made camp and I cooked a black rocky for dinner.

The next morning, in complete darkness, I heard Nick scratching around. Nick is an early riser, naturally, while I need to convince myself for a while that there's something worth getting up for. We scrambled, got our gear ready, had a few power bars for breakfast, and walked our kayaks down the long ramp and to the beach.

Guide Eric was waiting for us. He had driven through the darkness from Loleta and was in high spirits. Eric introduced us to his style of fishing rigs: a mooching sinker and behind it a 4 foot leader with two hooks, the top hook sliding and the bottom one fixed. He clipped off the barbs and we were ready for salmon fishing.

While setting up Eric gave us further instructions, showed us how to bait these hooks, and also told us that salmon weren't really around, scattered at best, at this particular time and that we would be very lucky to find any. However, we would do our best and try.

We paddled out and soon began trolling our baits, anchovies and herring, toward the Green Bell. When we passed the Green Bell we turned up the coast toward the Red Whistle. On the fishing front not much happened, no takedowns, not even a nibble, but the scenerey was beautiful and I felt ecstatic to be out there and to learn from a really good fisherman.

As the rounded the Whistle Eric derived a new plan. He wanted to try fishing closer to shore. We approached the shoreline and turned back towards the cove when Eric noticed a distinct color line. The water on the shore side was muddy brown while the water on the open ocean side was clear and green. Eric set up on a troll along this line.

Soon Nick hooked up with a nice black rochfish, much bigger than those we would typically find at Half Moon Bay.

My rod started to bounce. I definitely had a takedown. The hook set well and I felt a good fish; and there was more: the fish was transmitting pulses over the line, it was an awesome feeling. I slowly gained line on the fish and when it came closer to my kayak I knew I had something new, a California Halibut! I tried to land the halibut but my net was too small. Fortunately, the barbless rig held up and I made sure to keep tension on the line while flagging for help. Eric came over with his giant salmon net and had no trouble landing this fish. Score one, a 32-inch halibut from the Cove! The first significant catch on this trip and completely unexpected. According to Eric, very few halibut had been caught in this area.

We kept fishing the color line and soon something absolutely remarkable happened. Eric's tuna rod was bending hard under the weight of a really heavy fish. His kayak started to accelerate. I stopped fishing. This was too good to be true, I needed to see how the fight would unfold. Eric's kayak started to move at a good clip, towed by the fish, and faster than I could paddle. Fortunately Eric was pulled in big circles and I could take shortcuts to stay close and witness the action.

A big tail slashed through the water's surface: it was a thresher, a rather big thresher shark! 30 minutes into the fight Eric started to feel the pressure and the thresher was still far from done. He considered cutting the line but I compelled him to keep fighting. This was new territory for me, I wanted to see whether it was possible to land a big fish like this shark from a kayak or not.

Another round of hard fighting, heavy pressure on the thresher and on Eric, something had to give. The thresher didn't go on runs anymore but was throwing its weight around, however, Eric was slowly gaining the upper hand. By that time Nick and also Keith caught up with us, and the group positioned their kayaks to keep the thresher between them so that they could gaff and secure it.

Now we had a new problem. How are we getting this thresher back to shore? None of us were equipped to handle a fish of this size. A first option was to tow the thresher in by the tail but then Keith decided that he would take out his mirage drive to make room and transport the thresher in his Hobie. Just bringing the thresher over the gunnels was enormously difficult, but eventually the fish was stowed away, tail end hanging over the side, and we started the slow paddle back to port.

Back on shore the thresher made quite a scene. Everybody wanted to take a closer look. While there were much bigger boats on the water, powerboats with cabins and all the fishing tools one could ever want, the biggest fish was brought to shore in a kayak. We took our turns, posed for pictures and then proceeded to the fish cleaning station. It was Eric's fish but he carved out several generously sized blocks of meat to sent us home with something special for the kitchen.

Back at the campground I marveled at the halibut. I didn't catch a salmon as I had hoped but the halibut was a beautiful fish — in fact it was a really special fish and I hadn't quite given it the respect it deserved.

Trinidad

Nick and I split ways and I traveled up north to Trinidad.

I had a new passion which complemented my style of kayak fishing very well: minimalistic camping. On this trip I hadn't even brought a tent. Instead, I slept in a hammock. Here on the West Coast this can be a problem because it is not always possible to find two trees, many of the Coastal bluffs are treeless. At Shelter Cove I found one tree and tied the other end of my hammock to my truck, however, in Trinidad I was in luck. The campground was located in a Redwood grove which gave me cover, warmth, and the perfect place to hang my hammock.

On my first day I went sightseeing and scouting. What a beautiful place this Trinidad is. The population is less than 400 and the place feels more like Trinidad and Tobago than California. The sun was shining and on the city beach I ran into a group of spear fishermen loading up several large lingcod. We had a great chat and I was super excited to paddle out the next day.

I returned to camp and basked in the glory of the forest. I was by myself and outside, but never cold or lonely, the old trees provided warmth and a soothing atmosphere.

The next morning I was back to the Trinidad cove when the first light of the day broke. What a change from yesterday. Dense fog had rolled in. This was an unexpected problem, something not to take lightly since I was without marine electronics and also didn't know these waters.

I took refuge at a nearby Beachcomber Cafe (a lovely shop less than a mile from the beach) and regrouped. My plan was to paddle out nontheless, but pay good attention to the shoreline and weave my path from rock island to rock island, make sure to count all islands to know how many hops I was away from the launch site, and definitely avoid any open water crossings.

My plan worked out rather well. Trinidad is lined with small island and I managed to travel quite a distance even though I could never see much more than the next rock formation sticking out of the ocean.

After a while the rock formations were starting to look very much the same and I was getting concerned, wondering whether I would remember how to retrace my paddle strokes. It was time to turn around. While I was cautiously navigating this labyrinth of small islands I did manage to fish a little and caught a few small black rockies and a medium sized lingcod.

This was such an amazing trip and I would have like to continue traveling, but I was running out of ice and many other necessities and it was time to go home to deliver the Halibut and Thresher steak to my family.

The Thresher meat turned out to be excellent table fare. We cooked it with cabbage and served it in a mustard sauce.

This wasn't my first kayak fishing trip but it was a total eye-opener. I had been fishing all over the world since I was a boy, but prior to this trip I did not know how unbelievably cool fishing from a kayak can be. The Thresher, the Halibut, and dreams of King Salmon were buzzing through my head when I came home.

p.s. The adventure took place in 2014, the pictures are from that date, but the words were put on paper much later, and to the best of my recollection.