Palos Verdes 5/29
Every two weeks in the spring and summer we have morning low tides which allow anglers to cast from Palos Verdes platform rocks that are usually submerged. This morning before I left the house at 03:15, I checked the swell chart, which read, perfect one-to-two-foot swells are rolling in all along the Southern California coast as of 01:00.
However, from the curbside blufftop parking at Christmas Tree Cove, there was a strong breeze and at a distance the water sounded noisier than two feet. Over the Cobra marine band walkie talkie, The Coast Guard warned on channel 16 of a small craft advisory due to rough conditions. How things change in 4 hours.
As I descended the trail, I could see the swell was more like three and four feet. Twenty minutes of walking later, as I passed the rock from which I yanked out the five-pounder two weeks ago, that whole zone was unfishable due to pounding surf.
I kept going to another set of rocks to the south, where 15 years ago you could park in a small lot just above and access them down a short trail. Even though the sign said no parking from sundown to sunrise, I showed up many times an hour-and-a-half before sunrise and as long as I had fishing pole in hand, The Sherriff that cruised by looked but didn’t care. Then 10 years ago the neighborhood rent-a-cop kicked me out saying he will notify the authorities if I park there before light. This is why I now park at the current site and walk 30 minutes to get here. On a positive note, because of the effort required, no other fisherpeople are ever here this early.
I was about fifteen minutes late for first light, which means I need to getup at 02:00 next time. The rocks at this spot are perfect, with deep water right in front but the swell and the weeds made the action not too fun. I attempted over 30 casts between kelp stringers but felt no hits.
As more light was on the water, I looked left and located a likely zone that didn’t hold as much kelp. I wandered over and saw there was less swell and barely a weed in what looked like at least five acres. I cast the Storm WildEye Five-inch Sardine as far as I could. Half-way in, HOOKUP! I reeled in a calico that looked to be 13 inches. Five casts later another hookup of a calico of 12 inches! Fan casting to the left, all the while I felt hits that didn’t stick but then maybe seven casts later a third 11-inch was lifted out of the water!
Meanwhile, a couple other fisherdudes slowly ambled their way down the aforementioned post-sunrise trail and staged on a rock close by. There are something like fifty yards of good casting platforms here and in my sight was one particular weed-covered boulder closer to shore. As I passed the newcomers, the three of us shared fish reports, with one of them claiming he caught a seven-pound sheephead last month, pointing over to where I was headed, and of course I bragged about that five-pounder from last trip.
The first cast from the weed rock produced another 13-inch calico, the fourth of the day, all of which were released after the photos. So far so fun!
Weed rock was less than a foot above the water and the waves washed over regularly. Two of them were up to my knees and just about knocked me over. Also I got splashed several times head to toe but with my Frogg Toggs rainsuit and Irish Setter Rutmaster rubber boots, I remained dry to the core. The pounding was worth sticking out, as the next two calicos landed within only six casts were much larger keepers placed into the potato sack and soaked in a tide pool away from all the wave action for fresh keeping.
In the next hour the surf seemed to pick up and made fishing more difficult and even though I could still make casts to productive-looking spots, it was already late in the day (08:30) and the bite had shut down.
At the weigh-in ceremony the two keeper calicos registered in at 2 pounds and 2 1/2 pounds on the Quarrow scale.
On the hike back to the Jeep I saw at least 15 other anglers scattered within sight, including three fishing from Five Pounder Rock but the surf at this point was relentless and miserable.
For me this new calico honey hole is two hours from driveway to rock. In two weeks, depending on sea swell, I will need to leave the house at 02:45 to have plenty of time to catch everything available before that 07:30 crowd shows up.