By Paul Lebowitz

Most every year white seabass appear in numbers at the La Jolla kelp. Kayakers catch most of the big, hungry croakers. What about the private boaters? They scatter among the kayak flotilla, but few sport anything more than a disappointed face. The lopsided numbers demonstrate that inshore, the kayak is the superior vessel for hunting white seabass. Why?

The stealth factor shouldn’t be underestimated. For a fish that has a reputation as easily spooked, it’s easy to hear the difference between the gentle splash of a paddle and the drone of a marine engine. Whereas the noise of the powerboat might scare skittish seabass away, some kayakers believe the paddle slap actually brings them in. Andy Allen has caught more white seabass than most at La Jolla over a period of years. “The subtle swirl of the paddle entices fish. They come to see if feeding is taking place,” said the pro staffer for OEX Dive and Kayak Center.  

When a white seabass comes to investigate the swish of a paddle, it is likely to find something to eat that matches the local forage. Unlike out at the Channel Islands, where boaters score seabass on live squid, at La Jolla and the other likely coastal white seabass haunts, the ‘candy’ bait is much less widely available. Many private boaters head out to the local kelps with purchased fin bait, sardines or anchovies, and use that instead. Kayak anglers, on the other hand, catch their own live bait right on the fishing grounds.

“We match the hatch,” said La Jolla regular Pat Holmes, Allen’s fellow OEX staffer. “Coastal seabass seem to be eating a lot of fin bait, primarily mackerel, so fishing a green mackerel may get better bites compared to barge-bought sardine or anchovy. The bigger baits also keep the barracuda away,” added Holmes.  

Like most kayakers, Allen uses a multi-hook gangion known as a Sabiki rig to catch his mackerel. “Jigging it with a 1 to 2-oz. torpedo sinker usually yields good results. Look for bait in the pockets along the kelp edge. In springtime bait usually congregates about 10 to 15 feet down, around the thermocline,” said Allen. Although he prefers greenbacks for their “erractic and lively swimming,” Allen said the abundant Spanish mackerel are also effective white seabass baits.

Stealth and bait notwithstanding, there’s another good reason most of the La Jolla white seabass catch falls to kayakers: time on the water. Day in and day out, the kayak crew is out there fishing hard.

“We don’t anchor the boat, sit in a seat drinking beer and dropper loop a dead sardine. We are constantly working the bait balls with fresh bait,” said Holmes. Unlike kayakers, who have to be patient because they can’t get anywhere in a hurry, Holmes feels many private boaters can’t stand to stay put.

“If they don’t catch something in ten minutes, they run offshore to catch rockfish. We pound the bait for hours and wait for the fish to come feeding through,” said Holmes. 

Normal paddling speed is ideal for trolling live bait. Even that might be too fast for some seabass. “I don’t think seabass like to use a lot of energy when feeding. Slowing down your trolling speed and spending more time drifting or deadsticking seems to trigger more bites,” said Holmes.

KAYAKERS HAVE THE DROP ON INSHORE WHITE SEABASS - White seabass return to the La Jolla kelp every spring to set up shop for the spawning season. When they do, kayak anglers such as Greg Tsujiuchi hunt the fish that are so elusive they are popularly known as ghosts.

THE BETTER BOAT? –Based on recent La Jolla catch numbers, it’s hard not to conclude kayaks are superior to private boats when it comes to catching inshore white seabass. Why? Some people believe noisy boats scare the skittish fish away, while the gentle slap of a paddle sounds more like a dinner bell. This one was landed by Ken Atchison.

SLIMED – Martin Harding doesn't seem to care about the thick coat of goo he's modeling. The coveted white seabass are slimy creatures but oh so tasty.

La Jolla Kayak Fishing guide Jim Sammons had an additional observation to share. Kayakers often look for the fish where most private boaters don’t venture, right against the kelp line or even deep within the weeds. Of course there’s a price to be paid in lost fish. Some kayakers put their faith in braided lines to cut through the kelp. Not the brawny Sammons. He prefers to put the wood to the fish.

“Most guys don’t pull hard enough,” said Sammons. “If I’m fishing in the kelp, I don’t give them any line. My drag is locked. You can’t give fish the kelp,” added Sammons.

Sammons is fond of saying the kayak is part of his drag system. “Let the kayak do what it does,” in his parlance. Sammons did urge caution, “You better be pretty well balanced and confident. Fish can yank you off your boat if you’re not paying attention.”

To determine how hard you can pull without breaking your line or more likely your knot, Sammons suggested tying off to something static. See how much you can tighten the drag before the line snaps. Sammons predicted most people will be surprised.

If you are kelped despite pulling for all you are worth, Sammons advised those using monofilament to hold steady, solid pressure on the fish. If it appears the fish isn’t going anywhere, then slowly give it line. Never allow the line to go completely slack. “A lot of the time moving to the opposite side of kelp to pull from a different direction will free the fish,” said Sammons.

There’s one more factor to contemplate. Call it the early bird theory. Although it doesn’t always bring success, having a bait soaking as the sun rises is sure to up the odds in your favor. There’s a lot of ‘want to’ required when its cold out, the surf is up, and its obviously dark and wet out there.