Soquel Lagoon: Steelhead Survey!

Young of the Year steelhead

It has been quite some time since my last flurry of posts. For me, fall has historically been a lax time of the year for fishing. In central California, the water gets too cold during the fall for the bass to bite at Lake Boronda. Unfortunately, the water is also too warm to fish for trout in the East Bay. Many fisherman pursue rockfish and salmon during the fall months, but to fish for those species effectively you need to get on a boat. However, my Dad is highly susceptible to seasickness which means I'm landlocked for most of the year. But this weekend I had the pleasure of finding a steelhead survey group in a local river.
In addition to my hobby of fishing, my family also enjoys surfing. Many of the better breaks are in the Santa Cruz area, so every other weekend a trip is made to Capitola. On October 12, I was walking down to Capitola beach to check out the surf. As I made my way down the hill towards the beach, I caught a glimpse of Soquel Creek. I suddenly had a flashback to four years ago. I was standing on the bridge going over Soquel Lagoon, looking down into the turquoise water. The water was quite clear, and I could see the bottom, maybe six feet down? Suddenly a disturbance in the lagoon caught my eye, and I turned my gaze. There swimming out from under the bridge, was a giant fish. Nearly twenty-six inches in length, with a dark green back. I yelled for my parents to come see, but the sudden motion of my arms startled the fish, and it darted back under the bridge. At the time, I did not know that the fish was a steelhead. . For the past four years, I have been peering over the side of the same bridge, looking for the mysterious fish. Unfortunately I never saw another fish again in Soquel Creek.
In the present: I walk further down the hill, wondering if the fish I saw was the product of an overreactive imagination, after all I was just a kid. The beach is near, and I can see the bridge which spans over the width of Soquel Lagoon. I peer over the side as I have for the past four years, and I see something out of place. It isn't a fish though. On the side of the Soquel Creek, a bunch of people wearing waders set up a net across the width of the river. Intrigued, I jog down to talk to the people. After a few minutes of conversation, I learn that a mix of biologists, college interns, volunteers are working to sample the numbers of steelhead in Soquel Lagoon. At the word "steelhead" I become ecstatic. A couple of minutes of persuasion later I have convinced them to let me participate in the survey. Score!

Another juvenile steelhead

You may be wondering why I keep switching between Soquel Creek and Soquel Lagoon. See, in the summer the creek cuts across Capitola beach, and flows directly into the ocean. However, in the winter, the city of Capitola piles sand over the creek, damming it and forming a small lagoon. So depending on the time of year, the creek is referred to as Soquel Creek, or Soquel Lagoon. It creates a very interesting ecological habitat for marine life. Right now the the creek is in it's lagoon phase.
Our group makes it's way down to the opposite side of the lagoon. As we amble along, the head biologist gives us a quick orientation of the lagoon. "In the summer, adult steelhead make their way up Soquel creek. They spawn, then return to the ocean. When the fry hatch, the creek has been closed up, and they are forced to remain in the lagoon. There the Young-of-the-Year (YOY) grow until the creek is reopened in the summer. Survival rates of smolts in lagoons are higher because the steelhead grow bigger before leaving for the ocean."    Sounds cool, but all I want to do is pull the net across the lagoon.

Pulling the net across the lagoon

Two groups of volunteers pull the one-hundred foot net across the lagoon. It's a long and arduous process that kills the lower back. But as the net nears the shore, the volunteers crane their necks, trying to get a glimpse of the steelhead. Visions of a net chock-full with steelhead pop into our heads. We pull the net up onto shore, and see....
Thousands of sticklebacks and giant clumps of weeds. Sticklebacks are three-inch long fish with a single spine in the dorsal fin. They have fins, but their not what we want to catch. But as the net is drawn in more, I glimpse the flash of something bigger at the back of the net. Hand nets and aerated buckets are readied. I hold a hand net over the larger draw-net and wait for a steelhead to be placed inside. One of the biologists reaches into the mess of weeds, and pulls out a twelve-inch steelhead-trout. To me, it's like the biggest fish I have ever seen. Finally, my childhood suspicions have been confirmed. There are steelhead in Soquel Creek.
But how many? That is the point of the survey. Now that my initial thirst for knowledge has been quenched, I ponder how many steelhead there are in the lagoon. I decide to stick out the entire data collection process. The hours fly by and draw nets are set and pulled in. The sun rises to it's peak and beats mercilessly down onto out backs and shoulders. My skin has been tanned and toughened by many years in the sun, but I can see painful sunburns on many faces. But we all endure the elements for the results. Finally we are done with the data collection. Our weary group of volunteers makes it way over to the steelhead holding pen, where the fish we had been collecting for the past few hours reside. The biologists began to pull out the steelhead one by one: measuring each fish, taking it's weight, checking for tags, and collecting a small scale sample. For almost three hours of work, the group managed to net thirty-nine steelhead, averaging nine to twelve inches in length.

Collecting a scale sample from the steelhead

The steelhead I collected were not the twenty-six inch fish I saw in the creek four years ago, but to me the experience was just as rewarding. Working with others that appreciate nature as much as I do was an delightful experience to me. I found it comforting that so many volunteers laid down time in their daily lives, to expend their vast quantities of energy to preserve the outdoor world in which we coexist with. The volunteer group was a fortunate find, and I intend to return to Soquel Creek next year.