LAST CAST: The Bay of the Angels

Our guide rolls in as the sun rises over the Sea of Cortez.

Baja.
Say the word and all I can picture is the sparkling turquoise Sea of Cortez just brimming with tropical fish.
Fish, that the great game fish us hardcore anglers dream for.
Yellow fin. Dorado. Bonito. Barracuda.
I didn't know what to expect when I made my first trip down to Baja California, Mexico, in late September.
All I'd heard about Mexico were twisted stories of tourists being raided by the banditos and hassled by the federales.
The roads were supposed to be treacherous. The food and water, horrendous.
Wasn't the case when we went.
Our trip went smoother than any week-long fishing getaway I've taken in the U.S., oddly enough.
And the southern most destination of our trip was Bahia de los Angeles, which is located east of the Transpeninsular Highway some 360 miles south ofthe U.S. border.
Yeah, it's a long way from home.
Thank Neptune for that. No cell phones. No newspapers plastered with the day's latest disaster, soap opera or Bush blunder.
Nothing but fine hospitality from the majority of the Mexicans in the small fishing towns we visited (remember, their financial well-being depends heavily on tourism) and fine fishing.
Aside from some spearfishing and floattubing for rockfish, parrotfish and other exotic species early in the trip, we didn't do much fishing until we reached Bahia de los Angeles, which lived up to it's name (the bay of angels) as we caught hard-fighting game fish from our first cast to our last.
We were also blessed with dozens of barracuda, which are considered trash fish by the Mexican guides because they have massive teeth and little meat when compared to the other brutes that swim below them.
Even the squid were huge down there, including one monster I figure was pushing 30 pounds. This red heap of tentacles actually ripped off another squid I had hooked on a jig and jumped off the line just as I started to land him.
Craziest thing I'd ever seen. Schools of these alien-like creatures swimming about, smashing artificials like they were sharks or something.
Schools of squid, yellowtail, and barracuda dominated the island waters we fished just near the end of "yellow tail alley."
The area was sprinkled with dozens of small pangas, but we outfished every other boat that day because we woke up earliest and caught more live mackerel than anyone else.
The key to catching the most live macs is to get up early and bring a wide variety of bait rigs and not just the those rinky-dink, standard Sabikis you can pick up at Wal-Mart. Shrimp and squid look-alikes were the difference.
Being the stubborn angler that I am, i.e. a stupid purist, I opted to stick to tossing jigs on my favorite small Roddy Hunter rod from home along with a Penn Captiva reel that had begun to corrode because of all of my saltwater excursions by kayak.
Did I mention I was fishing with 20-pound test? And that all of the fish we caught were over 10 pounds?
Yeah, my back is still screaming at me over that one. Hence the term, "stupid purist."
I stuck with my setup even though I didn't catch a lick for the first 20-30 minutes (unless you count the bait and that darn squid that tried to abduct my jig).
That's when I noticed our guide was getting hook ups like crazy on a rusty ol' spoon he dug out of the back of his little panga.
The key was fishing the lure as fast as possible. I mean, this guy was reeling his spoon in so quickly it looked like he was trying to avoid the fish.
But the barracuda and yellowtail proved to be plenty quick, demolishing these lures repeatedly.
In fact, the only bummer of the trip was we didn't get into any dorado, which made their rare visit to the bay the same week we showed up -- during the town's annual celebration of the sea.
But even missing out on the dorado, and having the red tide wash out our trip on the Pacific side, angling the Sea of Cortez during the festival period was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Indeed, it was a fantastic celebration of one of the most gorgeous stretches of coast I've ever seen. That's what I think of when I hear the word Baja.

Albacore make an annual visit

"The albacore are coming!"
"The albacore are coming!"
It's all anyone is talking about on the coast these days.
It sounds like an invasion or something. But instead of running away, salty anglers are flocking to their boats this week in search of tuna off the Central Coast.
Albacore, for those who don't know, don't make it north of Santa Barbara very often so the folks in Avila Beach and Morro Bay are reeling with anticipation.
Boats are leaving at 11 p.m., making the 100-mile trek out to sea in hopes of finding a school.
It sounds crazy at first, but if you've ever gone on an albacore trip, you'll understand why these fish are so sought after.
Every fish packs a punch, not to mention a crazed adrenaline rush.
With the first fish on, anglers wake up to the screams of "fish on!" Or "hook up!"
That's when anglers come sprinting up to the deck to fight one of the ocean's most powerful heavyweights.
With each hook up, the fish dive deeper and deeper toward the ocean floor. Your rod nearly bends in half.
Line peels off your reel at uncontrollable speeds.
And this is what anglers are faced with for a good 10, 20, 30 minutes depending on the size of the fish.
So now you know what all of the hoopla is about.

Welcome to the new CaliforniaAngler.com

Welcome to a new and improved CaliforniaAngler.com, which underwent a major redesign over the New Year's holiday.
The new site has all the old resources, news and reports (the links are located in the right column), but will also likely contain "Last Cast" columns, essays, fish tales and random stories and photos about the sport we all love. The best part about the new design is it's much more user friendly, so uploading stories and columns is a snap, which means more updates throughout the week.
Now for the fun stuff.
And as Jimmy Buffett would say:
"I have been drunk now for over two weeks,
I passed out and I rallied and I sprung a few leaks
But I've gotta stop wishin', Got to go fishin',
I'm down to rock bottom again."