Rock-Fishing Cruise: The Farallon Islands

In an earlier blog post, I visited Santa Cruz in search of a limit of rockfish. The results were not as good as I had hoped, especially compared to my previous fishing trip to the Farallon Islands where schools of rockfish were thick, so thick that I couldn't drop my line down without pulling up two two-pound rockfish. Yesterday, an extremely generous man nicknamed "Lord of Lingcod" (LoL) took me (not my dad) to the land of rockfish paradise. That paradise is called the Farallon Islands.

The biggest rockfish of the day

The Farallon Islands are about two hours off the coast of San Francisco. The area known as the Farallons are made up of two major islands, the North and South Island. In between and around those islands, deep trenches hold swirling schools of rockfish. Below those schools a large fish known as the lingcod sits sullenly on the bottom.

LoL started the drive to Emeryville at 4:10 A.M.  In the car sat LoL, his friend from college "Jackpot", and me. After an hour of driving, all three of us piled out of the car and met up with LoL's brother "Lendy Lingcod" (LL). The four of us walked down to the dock until we came upon the boat Sea Wolf. Within minutes, we had all got our gear and reserved a seat in the cabin. A couple of minutes after that, we left the dock and embarked on the three hour pilgrimage to the Farallon Islands.

Picture with two of the lingcod 

The ride to the Islands was smooth.  Soon twenty-two excited fisherman crowded the rails of the Sea Wolf each looking for their limit of tasty rockfish. LoL, Jackpot, Tom, and I were clustered at the bow ready for action. Tom was the only one who had a lingcod lure on his line. The "lure" was basically a six-ounce bar of lead with a hook attached, but hey, it catches fish. LoL, Jackpot, and I stuck with the generic double shrimp fly tipped with squid. Dropping the offerings down 180 ft. was a snap with our one-pound sinkers. Soon, all of us hit bottom. I immediately hooked up with a double rock fish strike. Feeling good, I looked around the boat to see how other people were doing. What I saw was shocking. Several people were hunched over bent rods, grimaces of pain on their faces. The boat had just drifted over a school of lingcod.

There are two types of fish most people bring up from the depths. There is the normal rockfish, and there are lingcod. Bringing up a lingcod from the depths is similar to battling a large halibut. It is physically and mentally taxing.  There is often a long battle before an angler gets a glimpse of his/her's catch. Back to the story.

The lingcod that I caught myself

The day proceeded to yield triple limits of lingcod for the skilled angler (limit of lingcod is two). LL had long ago reached his limit and was giving lingcod away to the less fortunate few. LoL was also at his limit with two keeper lingcod and shakers that he let swim free.  Jackpot had a large lingcod and was arguing with LL about who's fish was bigger.

The limit of rockfish and lingcod

Then there's me. At the time, I had almost twice as many rockfish than many people on the boat. I had double limited out (limit for rockfish is ten) and  could not keep the rockfish off the hook. But, I was not satisfied. Without any specialized lingcod gear for myself I was stuck to watching in envy as LoL and LL pull in giant lingcod after giant lingcod. I was getting frustrated. Pinning on two live anchovies I dropped my rockfish rig down to the bottom, where I felt a solid thump. It was bigger than any fish I had felt on that trip. Excited, I settled in for the fight. A couple of minutes later, the fish was at the surface. It was a twenty-inch lingcod, my first lingcod ever. Pulling it up for a picture I measured the fish, deemed it under the size limit, and threw it back in. Maybe someday I'll catch it when it's bigger.

Cheers! My fellow fisherman with their catches

In the end, the entire boat limited out on lingcod and rockfish. It was one of those days that you read about in a fishing magazine, except our picture is out on the front cover. It was a truly special day, one that I will remember forever.



However, I would like to thank "Lord of Lingcod"for taking me out on this trip. Had he not decided to burden himself with taking me, I would never have had this experience. I have gone rock fishing at the Farallon Islands three times and he has taken me each time. He is a truly special guy and I think he is a model for many people who want to provide a child with the opportunity for a fishing trip that will be remembered forever.

Another pic. of the two lingcod

LoL and me on the Sea Wolf

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Sierra Adventure: Graph of Fish Catches

The graph above is the summary of my family's trip to the Sierras. Conway Ranch is not included due to the fact that trout are heavily stocked in the areas we were fishing.

Individual reports:

• May Lake in Yosemite National Park - brook trout mania
• San Joaquin near Devil's Postpile National Park - wild trout dry fly
• Hot Creek and Crowley Lake - big brown trout on fly rod
• San Joaquin and Tuolumne River in Yosemite National Park - dry fly action continues
• Yosemite National Park small creek fishing - eleven wild trout in one hour

 

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Sierra Adventure: Conway Ranch - The Last Episode

A giant rainbow

Here it is, the last episode of the season. In just a few days I will be heading back to school, where I will be busy with homework. Over the summer, I have documented my many adventures in the form of a blog. Although I will continue to make entries, the posts will be far and few between. Still, I have one last adventure from my time in the Sierras for you.

The family posing with my sister's fish

The entire time my family has been in the Sierras there was one place that was always in the back of our minds. That place was Conway Ranch. Conway is the home of the legendary Alpers Trout, a modified version of the rainbow trout that fights harder and grows bigger than the average rainbow. The Ranch grows the trout to be shipped over the Eastern Sierra, but they also have a couple ponds which they stock with the trout they raise. We were about to go to one of those ponds.

Me fighting a fish

My family arrived at Conway Ranch at 11:00 A.M. There we signed the necessary paperwork, and began to set up our rods. I would be using an olive wooly bugger tied onto two pound tippet. My father would be helping my younger sister catch fish with a bobber and bait. As soon I threw my fly into the water, a fish jumped up and snapped my two pound tippet. That was how big the fish were. Switching to four-pound tippet, I cast in again, and hooked up with another Alpers Trout. Meanwhile,  my sister also had a fish on her line. We both landed our fish, and took photos. Over the next hour and-a-half I proceeded to catch six Alpers Trout, my dad caught one, and my sister caught five for a total of eleven Alpers Trout. By the end we all had broken our fair share of lines, and were fatigued. We fed the trout as a chore for the managers, piled into the car, and drove back to the Bay Area. My family ended the Sierra Adventure with a combined total of sixty-one trout, a mix of brook, brown, rainbow, and Alpers trout.

The biggest rainbow of the trip

This trip was a truly remarkable experience for me. It will stay in my mind as the best trout fishing excursion I have taken so far. The amount of fish we caught, the unique places we visited, and the people we met made the entire trip appealing and captivating. Whether it was fishing in a high mountain lake, or pulling a giant brown trout in from a float tube the fishing was special because of the memories that I will take with me from this trip.




However, this trip brings me back to one of the reasons why I started this blog. Many of the places that I have gone to in the past weeks may not stay open for more than ten years. Although the people of today try hard to preserve the lakes for future generations, the future generation may not preserve it for themselves. It's hard to compete for attention with the flashy game console or iPod. Many kids will not get outdoors as much as they need to. They will not make the connections with nature as previous generations have, that leads to the conservation of special places. Fishing was my solution to this problem.  There is something  about fishing that most children instinctually like. Therefore, it is one of the easiest tools a parent can use to get a child familiar with the outdoors. And when a child gets familiar with nature they will want to protect it, like they would an iPod or Xbox. So push yourself to get outside and see what it does for your child.

Preserve Nature!

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Sierra Adventure: Secret Creek

The biggest brook trout for the day

As our grand Sierra Adventure begins to near the end, my dad and I are starting to go to some of the best fishing spots in the area. We have been saving the best for last, but now the best is here. Today, we visit Secret Creek, a small creek that feeds out of a fish rich lake. The creek holds massive amounts of good sized brook trout, along with a abundant supply of mosquitos. However, the creek's small size and delicate fish has prompted my family to keep the creek a secret. My dad and I only fish the creek twice every year and the fish become skittish on the second trip. Without further adue, here is my experience at Secret Creek.

Another nice brookie from this year

On our way back from Tuolumne meadows my dad suggested a stop at Secret Creek. After confirmation from the rest of my family, we turned the car down a dirt road towards the Creek. Arriving at a dirt pullout around 10:00 A.M., I donned my mosquito netting, gloves, jacket, hat, and pants. In the past, I have had twenty mosquitos land on my cotton gloves, stick their mouth through the holes in the cotton, and suck my blood. That does not happen anymore with the correct gear. Back in the present, I held my three-weight fly rod in my right hand. Attached to the leader was a #14 crystal flash wooly bugger. As I dropped my fly into Secret Creek a four-inch brook trout immediately charged it. Unfortunately, a bigger six-inch trout got there first and gobbled my fly up. During the hook-set I pulled the fly out of the fish's mouth. Then a 9-inch trout swam up and grabbed the fly. I landed the nine-inch fish. The brook trout have never seen a fly before, so when something drops into the pool all the fish go for whatever has fallen in. Sometimes, it is my fly. I enjoyed a happy fourty-five minutes, catching ten brook trout and missing many more. My dad caught one with a California mosquito dry fly.

When I said "happy" earlier in my blog, there was one point in which I threw my rod across the meadow in frustration. To understand my pain, we have to travel back one year.
------------
It had been a good half-hour and I had caught eight brook trout with my crystal flash wooly bugger. Now, I dropped my fly into a large pool. I was hanging onto a large boulder with one hand and holding my fly rod with the other. If any fish was to hit, I would just pull it up onto the meadow behind me. Then I saw the fish. It was a lunker of a brook trout. Estimated to be around fourteen-inches from head to tail. It saw my fly, and made a savage lunge. I managed to hook the fish, but could not drag it onto the meadow. I stripped the fly line with my teeth, hoping to tire it out. After half-a-minute the fish turned onto it's side. I tried to drag it onto the meadow, but the brook trout made one last jump. The fly tore free of the mouth, and the fish swam back under the bank.
------------- Back in the present
I can see the same fish from last year. It's about an inch bigger, with a scar on the left side of the mouth. The fish has moved down from the big pool last year, making it possible for me to land it. My cast is perfect, with little splash. The fish makes the savage lunge I remember so well. My hook-set is a little off, but the point digs in. Realizing that it has been hooked, the trout breaches clear out of the water, flops across a dry spot, and dives back into the bigger pool. My fly pops loose from the fish's mouth.

Total catch was 10 fish for Kai, 1 for Dad.

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Sierra Adventure: San Joaquin - Relived + Tuolumne River

Biggest fish of the San Joaquin expedition

Wednesday was our last wild trout fishing in the Eastern Sierra. To end the trip on a good note my dad and I decided to fish the San Joaquin River. However, we experienced some difficulties early in the trip...

My dad and I woke up around 6:00 A.M. to get breakfast at the deli. As we began to cross the shopping square we saw a scary sight on the left. A 300 pound mother black bear and her cub were eating out of an improperly closed trash can. We tried to scare the bears away, but they refused to move, and began to snarl at us. Terrified, my dad began to flee towards the hotel with me right behind him. We took an elevator down to the parking lot, got in the car, and went to a different bakery.

A colorful brown trout

After the bear scare, my dad parked around 6:30. I immediately started to catch fish, but the bite began to heat up with the water temperature. My dad and I were fishing a #20 Parachute Adams and a #28 Caddis. Trout were only hitting very small dry flies the entire day. Also, my dad hiked up and down the river, but only a small stretch produced fish. After five intense hours of fishing my dad and I ended up with a combined total of eleven fish (eight for me, three for dad). There was a mix of brown, brook, and rainbow trout that was caught all on dries before 10:00 A.M.

San Joaquin Fish Total = 20 (9 on day one plus 11 on day 2)
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 Brook trout at San Joaquin

We left the Eastern Sierras on Wednesday, but our fishing adventure continues to be productive in Yosemite Park. One of our first fishing trips in the park was started at Tuolumne River. The river runs East to West through Yosemite's high country. Large populations of small wild trout swim through the Lyell Fork and Dana Fork of the river.

The biggest brown trout caught in San Joaquin

My family left for the Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne river around 10:00 A.M. We were going there mainly for the hike, but there was a fly rod stowed away in my backpack. After a short hike, the Tuolumne River was within sight. After a quick lunch, I proceeded to catch a small brook trout with an olive green wooly bugger. Satisfied, my family returned to the car. 

The following morning my dad and I went to the Dana Fork of the Tuolumne River. Although the early morning was slow, fishing       began to get better as the sun's rays warmed the water. I caught two brook trout while using a bubble-fly combination. There was a small mosquito on the end of the line, but action could have been better if my dad had a smaller fly in his fly-box. 

Tuolumne total = 3

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Sierra Adventure: Hot Creek + Crowley Lake Action

The beginning of the wild trout section of Hot Creek

It's not all about the fish. Any angler has heard that phrase hundreds of times. I had that lesson pounded into me at Hot Creek. The creek is generally regarded as one of California's best wild trout stream. A single mile of the creek contains about 11,000 trout per mile. However the average trout at Hot Creek is caught about five to six times a month. This creates very smart, but very large wild trout. Hearing the praise about Hot Creek, I decided to fish there.

Me and my brown trout that I caught at Crowley

A sixteen-inch brown trout

When we arrived at the stream the first thing I noticed was a giant sign that said, "0 fish limit". Despite the sign I still noticed dozens of anglers trying their luck. At most places I go to people fish for the food, not the fish. However, Hot Creek is a special place where anglers come from miles for just a glimpse of the fish. These anglers are in a special class of people that are hardcore catch and release fishermen. Just being at the river and walking through the meadow was enough for them. Fishing is all about the experience of enjoying the river and the nature around you. Whether you choose to enjoy it or not is up to you. Nevertheless, I hooked a nice sized rainbow with a green wooly bugger. While fighting it against the current, I was just about to net the trout, when the fly popped out of the fish's mouth. Seconds later, it disappeared back into the middle of the creek.

Hot creek

Luckily, I had a chance to redeem myself the following day while fishing at Crowley Lake. The lake is one of the best trout fishing areas in the state. Note that it contains no wild trout. All trout are stocked at fingerling size, and grow about an inch per month due to the abundant food sources in Crowley.

Unfortunately for me, the fish seemed to avoiding my lure. During the past two hours I had been fishing from a float tube with a rainbow pattern Kastmaster attached to four pound test. The hits had been far and few between, and I was getting slightly frustrated. Anglers around me all had at least one fish with their fly rods. In a moment of desperation I switched my spinning rod to a fly rod. The fish soon began to strike the midges I was fishing under a strike indicator. Then a trout grabbed my fly and ran. I set the hook and settled in for the fight. Two intense minutes later a nice sixteen-inch brown trout was netted. I returned to the car a happy angler.

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Sierra Adventure: Wild Dry Fly Action at San Joaquin

The sunrise this morning marked the third day of our trip. Today, my family decided to hit the San Joaquin River. The San Joaquin is a wild trout stream that is boosted with plants of ten to twelve-inch rainbow trout. However, this year the DFG (Department of Fish and Game) had not stocked any rainbows. The result is slightly tougher fishing for wild trout. We had fished there in the past with good results. My dad and I hoped for similar conditions today.

We arrived at Pumice Campground at 7:30 A.M. The air was frigid, and rang with the biting chill of harsh wind. That still did not stop many hikers from showing up in t-shirts and shorts. My family instead opted for warm layers and neoprene waders. As soon as my dad and I walked down to the river, we immediately spotted the rises from small trout. In my hand I held a spinning rod equipped with  split shot and a #8 hook. Salmon eggs were the bait of choice for me. My father instead held a fly rod with a nine-foot tippet on the end. A #22 Parachute Adam dry fly was tied onto the end. Although my dad immediately began to hook up with some trout, I left in search of the big one.

The biggest rainbow of the day

Ten minutes later I found my fish. It was a nice fifteen-inch rainbow trout that had been hiding behind a  large boulder. Zipping a cast upstream I let the salmon eggs drift down to the fish. It stopped the bait and I set the hook. For three minutes I ran up and down the river, vainly trying to land the fish with my four-pound test. Finally I dragged the fish onto a sandy beach. After taking a few photos, I returned downstream ready for some dry fly action.

A wild rainbow

A rainbow trout that my dad caught

My dad had already caught three trout (smaller ones) when I returned. Tying a Parachute Adam onto my three-weight fly rod I cast upstream. Immediately a eight-inch brook trout smacked the fly. That was the type of action my father and I experienced for the next three hours. Finally we ended the day with a combined total of nine trout. A mix of brooks, browns, and rainbows. My family returned to the hotel and soaked in a hot tub talking about the big ones.

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Sierra Adventure: May Lake

Possibly one of the biggest brookies of the trip

As the summer begins to draw to a close, my family is taking one last big fishing trip. We are touring the grand Yosemite park, hiking up granite mountains, and sampling some of the best fishing the Eastern Sierra has to offer. During the week-and-a-half that we will be here I hope to have some historic fishing excursions. To kickstart the trip my dad and I took a two day trip to May Lake, a small lake set up in the high country of Yosemite Park.

One of the fourteen brook trout

To get to May Lake we had to take a short, but strenuous 1.2 mile hike up a steep mountain. Unfortunately, my dad injured his back last month, leaving me to carry most of the gear up. Luckily, I experienced no difficulties hiking up. Once we arrived at the top of the mountain my dad and I quickly set up the tent, and began the first fishing trip of the week. I experienced great action as I pulled in a fish on every cast while fishing power eggs on a #8 hook and four-pound test. However we were driven back to camp as the skies darkened, and rain began to pour.

One of the more colorful fish of the trip

Soon the storm passed, leaving me and my father to resume fishing. I proceeded to catch three more brook trout (my father caught one) within forty-five minutes. Taking two of the fish for dinner, we began to hike back to camp, and prepare dinner. During supper, my dad came down with a serious case of altitude sickness. Pounding headaches and fierce nausea forced him to lie down inside the tent. This left me with plenty of time to fish on my own. The first two hours were tough, as I only caught one fish with a blue and silver Kastmaster. However, as the sun began to dip down below the horizon, fishing picked up. Holding a flashlight between my teeth I caught five good sized brookies, before calling it a night. It was around 9:00 P.M. I slipped into my sleeping bag, and began to sleep.

May Lake

This is where it gets interesting. A big thunderstorm passed overhead dropping buckets of rain onto our tent. Lighting flashed within a quarter mile from where we were sleeping. Thunder kept me up all night, yet my dad slept like a bear in hibernation. Finally, at 5:30 A.M. the storm ceased and I picked up my rod and caught three more brook trout. My dad and I ended the trip with a total of fourteen brook trout, as we hiked back to the parking lot.
Score:
Me: 12 brook trout
Dad: 2 brook trout.
If the trip continues to yield catches like yesterdays, the trip will prove to be one of the best in my life.

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