Fishing along the California Coast

I have to say, the fishing wasn’t bad.  The day was gorgeous, lovely and warm and the boat hugged the coast as opposed to heading out to sea.  I’d expected a few hours of looking at nothing but a horizon of water, but we headed down the coast to Laguna Beach.  It’s a gorgeous beach city with very expensive houses set up in the cliffs so I snapped away with my camera.

And my son loved it, every single moment.  I’d assumed he’d last about an hour on the boat before boredom set in but he lapped up every minute.  Plus, he was the youngest on the boat.  I told him he had to pay attention and be very grown up because there were a lot of serious fishermen onboard, so he upped his game!

There was no puking despite the avoidance of Dramamine (I choose alcohol instead), as the water wasn’t too choppy.  However, my alcohol choices were Bud, Bud Lite and Coors and even if they’d had wine it would probably have been a warm liebfraumilch. I realized that had been too much to expect and was cursing myself for not packing a gin and tonic in a sippy cup.  It was a Friday afternoon after all.

But live bait, I had no idea that even happened.  My son would go to try and catch one of the slippery little things swimming around in a big tank, and then bring it back wriggling in his hand.  The first time he did this, walking towards me, I knew exactly what was coming next: ‘Mummy, it’s alive!  Can you put it on the hook for me.’  This is normally when I step aside and let Danny take over, but he’d been unable to come on the trip, so I had to grab the fish and shove a hook in it.  The worst thing was, this didn’t kill them, and so they all swam around in the water underneath with a hook stuck in them.  Awful!  As I announced my dismay, I was told not to worry because ‘fish don’t have feelings.’  How the bloody hell do you know that?  I wanted to answer.  Poor things.

The guys were really nice and happy to help.  They lined up (I think that’s the correct term) the rods for us and when my friend’s son caught a California Scorpionfish, came over to hold it correctly and remove the hook.  Luckily, they did, because we had absolutely no idea what it was and that it’s poisonous.   It’s spines give a nasty sting.  It’s a great looking fish though and apparently good to eat but this one was too small, so we threw him back.

The five hours went incredibly quickly.  It was entertaining watching all the guys on the boat.  The serious fisherman determined to make a catch.  The group of guys drinking beer steadily, putting the live fish down one another’s shorts and arranging plans for the evening.  Which bar should they go to to meet women?  Meet women?  You’ve been on fishing boat drinking for five hours; you stink of fish and beer.  Let me know how that goes for you!

I was the only woman on the boat.  As we were checking in in the fishing shop, there were two lines.  One for big burly fishing men.  One for women on a day out.  As we got on our boats, I realized: Men = fishing. Women = whale watching.  I was on the wrong boat.  We didn’t bring home any fish, but I got off the boat with two very happy boys and of course the question ‘when can we go again?’