By Paul Lebowitz

The gently rolling hills of San Clemente Island are aglow in the soft golden light of the new day. A few hundred yards out to sea the only sounds are the gentle slap of paddle blades cutting the water and the distant surf splashing against an empty beach.

There are no motors to snarl and smash the silence. Amidst the quiet a squadron of kayak anglers is stealthily patrolling the outer edge of a kelp forest that stretches towards the horizon.

The water just ahead of the kayaks erupts in a shower of silvery streaks – a school of sardines shattered by a pack of predatory fish. The broad greenish backs of the big fish slash across the surface. The quickest kayakers launch irons jigs into the melee, but moments later the only memories of the big yellowtail are the scales of the unfortunate baitfish that sparkle in the sunlight as they sink into the depths.

When the ‘tails fail to reappear, the kayakers scatter across the thick fields of kelp. There they drop lively baits through the skylights that pierce the forest, or dance swimbaits along the lanes in the canopy. The result is the same either way. Wolf packs of calico bass snap at the offerings. Out here the calicos seem to have broader shoulders than their coastal cousins. Their sizes spiral ever upwards, 3 pounds, then 5, and finally one kayaker proudly holds up an 8. The 10-pounder has to be here somewhere. The yellowtail and white seabass may not want to play today, yet the bruiser bass provide the proof these waters are pristine.

Such are the rewards offered by a typical kayak mothership trip. It’s a chance to fish far-off waters, where encounters with yellowtail and white seabass are likely, and the calico bass commonly come in sizes L and XL.

The sight of a fleet of kayaks way out at isolated San Clemente Island has to be a strange one for the sportfishing passengers and private boat skippers that make the 55-mile trip from San Diego Bay to fish the rich waters. Where did they come from? The only hint is the big sportboat anchored in the cove, rails barren of the fishermen who should be jostling for elbow room.

The name across the stern reads Islander, but the solid metal frame built over the bait tanks and the broad swim step spanning the length of the transom are dead giveaways. The 88-foot Islander is out on one of her special missions. Today she is serving as a floating home base, mothership to a score of kayak fishing crazies. 

Anyone who takes a luxury sportfishing boat any distance across the pond, and then as soon as the anchor hits bottom, abandons ship in favor of a small plastic boat has to be nuts, right? Not at all! A fishing kayak can go places no other craft can venture – and pull out big fish. No matter how sweet the fishing in some pristine spot, if a kayak angler can get there it could be even sweeter.

“It’s all about the stealth,” says Shane Slaughter, the innovative young co-captain of the Islander. “Kayakers can get seabass when no one else does. Between free divers and kayakers, there are no two better ways to get them” when the bite is tough.

Kayaks can also squeeze into the spots that never see a boat. It’s even tastier when these spots are miles from the mainland, where the fish never see a hook. Jim Sammons, owner of La Jolla Kayak Fishing, explains. “We can go where they can’t, like the windows in a thick kelp canopy, up close to boiler rocks, and in tight to sandy beaches for halibut.” Out at the islands, it’s like going back in time to “fish La Jolla the way it used to be 100 years ago.”

Sammons sponsors 5-pack charters out to San Clemente or other local spots on the Grander. Fishing from a 38-ft. Bertram takes the mothership experience to the next level. “The fishing is absolutely insane. Be prepared to have your thumb shredded by all the big calicos you’ll catch,” says Sammons.

Slaughter and his Islander partner John Coniff have devoted tremendous energy to the effort.

“We outfitted the Islander to do these specific trips. We don’t just throw kayaks on the deck,” says Slaughter, whose crew has built a unique kayak rack as well as a custom swim step for easy water access.

Regularly scheduled kayak mothership trips are a new development made possible by the tremendous growth of the sport. Other boats occasionally host the odd kayak fishing group for short range trips.

Most kayak mothership trips are intended for experienced kayak anglers. Although charter captains try to ease loading and unloading, climbing back onto a boat that is heaving in rolling swell can be a challenge. 

KAYAK MOTHERSHIP trips to San Clemente, the other Channel Islands, or down the Mexican coastline usually provide a good shot at yellowtail or white seabass. If they don’t want to play, there are always the calicos. Out where they never see a hook, they come in bigger models than their coastal cousins. PHOTO BY GREG KETTERMAN

KAYAKERS who take mothership trips to rarely visited spots shouldn’t forget to look for halibut. Some of the more remote beaches are rarely fished, especially in tight. This 20-pounder was plucked from a San Clemente Island surf zone by Richard Martin.

THE ISLANDER is the first boat in the fleet to be fully customized to run kayak mothership trips. The custom kayak rack over the bait tank holds a couple of dozen kayaks safely up and out of the way.

CLIMBING from the boat to the kayak and vice-versa can be tough in a big swell. The stern-wide custom swim step on the Islander greatly eases the task. PHOTO BY GREG KETTERMAN

ONE OF THE BEST qualities of a kayak mothership trip is the chance to take a break right on the fishing grounds.

“Kayak mothership trips are for adventurous people who like to explore new areas that can’t be reached otherwise from a kayak,” says Slaughter. “We try to make it easy as possible.” Slaughter and his crew don’t keep kayak anglers on a tight leash. 

“Once people get off the boat they are free to fish as hard as they want. We just provide the vehicle to get them out there in comfort. Some people fish within sight of the boat all day. Others paddle to horizon. We prefer they keep the boat in sight, that way we can keep an eye on them,” says Slaughter.

Slaughter views San Clemente Island as an ideal kayak fishing destination. “San Clemente is pretty pristine. There’s a phenomenal potential for white seabass and yellowtail. The fishery is healthy. There were good signs every trip last year,” says Slaughter, who credits the clean water conditions.

“Locally (in coastal waters) we don’t have favorable water conditions a lot of the time. Out at Clemente we get the right conditions more often than not,” says Slaughter. “SCI is better than even the other Channel Islands. It’s a little more oceanic, it gets washed with clean blue water.”

Kayak anglers should bring the same gear they’re accustomed to using in coastal waters. Sammons says San Clemente is “like La Jolla, with yellowtail, white seabass, and calico bass. You need the same equipment. You certainly want to have signaling devices and a PFD. A VHF radio is a must.”

Slaughter agrees on the radio. “It’s definitely best to bring a VHF. That’s your lifeline. If you need more bait or get tired, all you have to do is call us up. Besides, it will help you stay in touch with the rest of fishermen. The group fishing a quarter mile outside could be getting them,” says Slaughter.

As far as the specific hardware goes, Slaughter recommends kayak anglers bring a 15-pound outfit for bass, a 25 to 30-pound setup for fishing yellowtail or white seabass of the kelp edges, and a heavier 40-pound rig for fishing in the weeds. The captain has a tip for kayak anglers who find it tough to land big fish from deep within dense kelp forests. Spool up with braided line such as Spectra.

“You can rip them out of there if you fish Spectra in lieu of mono. It cuts that stuff like a buzz saw. If you tangle in the kelp, hold tight and pull. Once you get the fish straight up and down most fish unwrap themselves,” says Slaughter.

Tie a monofilament or fluorocarbon leader onto the end of the braided line so you’ll have something to break off if you become irretrievably snagged. Slaughter says the length of the leader is a matter of personal preference. Go either short or long, with the connection several wraps onto the reel spool or hanging off the rod tip. The leader shouldn’t have to pass through the rod guides during a cast.

Bring lots of plastics for calico fishing. For the white seabass, you want circle hooks ranging from size 2/0 to 5/0 to take advantage of the mothership’s huge bait capacity.

Slaughter is bullish on fishing live bait, especially the sardines and squid that are seen less often in kayak bait tanks than sabiki-caught mackerel. “Live bait is the way to go for sure. We carry plenty of it. Guys can troll the kelp line or under the kelp. The fish will bite whatever they see as long as they’re not spooked and you present the right bait at the right time,” says Slaughter.