By Paul Lebowitz

It’s a big ocean, but sometimes it feels more like the middle seat on Sardine Airlines. There’s no elbow room.

Take your average hot bite. The location could be the corner at La Jolla when the yellows are chewing the paint, or maybe it’s a tiny piece of Malibu’s Big Kelp Reef that happens to be plugged with seabass. You get bit if you drop your squirt right there, and only right there. That little piece of water looks like the 405 at rush hour.

If three’s a crowd in those conditions, it’s least comfortable to be the kayak angler. We ride the smallest, slowest craft out there, and don’t the boaters know it. Some skippers, particularly the guys driving the big sportfishing boats, look at us and see a 98-lb weakling making a play on the cheerleader wearing their letterman’s jacket.

Yep, the odd skipper has been known to get pushy when he sees a Tupperware-riding intruder sitting on ‘his’ spot. They muscle in like they don’t see you. Your choice: get out of the way or get run down by a 90-ft battering ram. Or for kicks they race by at full throttle, throwing a 6-ft wake just for the fun of drenching or even capsizing their tiny irritant.

CAN'T WE ALL GET ALONG? – A few local sportboat skippers are notorious for bullying kayakers off fishing spots. Not these boats, which have had their names blurred to protect the innocent. On the other hand, novice kayak anglers often act as fleas to the sportboat’s dog, swarming the big boat’s chum line. These conflicts are foolish. It is a big ocean after all.

Some half-day skippers are so notorious for the behavior, kayak anglers get twitchy when they see the big boat anywhere in the same area code. Kayakers have been known to boycott an entire sportfishing landing, innocent long-range boats and all, due to one bad seed. The aggressive behavior is poor business practice; what these kayak-hunting Captain Ahabs forget is kayak anglers can’t paddle out to the tuna grounds. We need to hitch a ride. Many kayak anglers are regular sportboat customers.

Most sportboat drivers are good apples, but the pushy and even dangerous ones are rotten. Kayakers have every right to the bit of water they occupy. Longevity counts when it comes to Chargers and Lakers playoff tickets; it doesn’t mean squat on the ocean. The spot belongs to the first one to reach it. 

As tempting as it is to meet the boat back at the landing for a face to face chat punctuated by chin music, the smarter bet is to pick up that VHF you usually use to taunt your fish-repelling buddies. Mash the ‘16’ button down and hail that stinkpot. The conversation might go something like this:  

Sportfishing vessel (insert name or description here) this is (describe your craft, example yellow kayak). Break. Your current course threatens yellow kayak’s safety. Break. Request you alter course immediately.
 
It might just work, particularly since Big Brother is listening. Big Brother in this case being the US Coast Guard. If it doesn’t, the Coasties or the Harbor Patrol are your next call on Channel 16, that is once you’ve dodged the bully intent on grounding you up for his chum line.

The bottom line: sportfishing captains can be fined, cited, or lose their Master’s License over dangerous and irresponsible behavior. If one threatens you on the water, do us all a favor. Call the authorities and hold him responsible.

To be fair, there is a flip side. Kayak anglers can be knuckleheads too – and often. How’s that? A lot of our paddle-powered tribe are new to the ocean. They don’t know the rules of the road nor proper etiquette.

For starters, give any boat a ton of room. Stay out of their chum line. Don’t go within range of an iron. Yeah, that can be a country mile. Know this: you are probably a lot closer than you think. The water level perspective is to blame.

Don’t pose a navigational hazard either. In confined water, give the guys on the sportboats room to maneuver. It isn’t difficult to imagine the frustration a skipper must feel when he looks out on a crowd of 40 or 50 kayakers at La Jolla, all going hither and yon unpredictably, and has to pick his way through the cloud of gnats. 

New kayakers seem unaware that sportfishers have a business to run and are under pressure to put their customers on fish. Give them a break, some common courtesy, and maybe you’ll get some respect back.

Why anyone would want to fish close to a sportboat anyway is beyond me. Lots of the guys fishing from a kayak cockpit used to line the rails of the local boats. They got tired of losing fish to the sea lions that shadow the big boats, had it with elbowing for space at the corner, and decided (wisely) that it’s better to be your own captain. That freedom means fishing where you want, when you want, and how you want.

It is a big ocean. Find your own piece of water. Go where the big boats can’t, deep in the kelp. Use your stealthy advantages. You’ll catch more fish. Isn’t that the best revenge of all?