By Paul Lebowitz

Seaforth Boat Rental’s Fishing Skiffs Take Old and Younger Salts to Fish for Permanently PO’d Spotted Bay Bass

“Look at those red eyes!” hooted Ed Ries as he hopped another spotted bay bass out of the water and into his hand. It was the old timer’s 53rd or 54th bass of the morning. The white-bearded Ries deftly separated the lively bass from his curl-tailed grub and jighead combo, and then flipped the fish back into San Diego Bay. The fish shot vigorously back to the bottom. Ries laughed and said, “Permanently PO’d. I love ‘em.”

The fishing historian and author, a young 87, was generously sharing his unlikely fountain of youth: the salty green waters at the south end of San Diego Bay. And his chariot, a little 14-foot fishing skiff from Seaforth Boat Rentals in Coronado.

Seaforth’s bay fishing skiffs aren’t the flashiest boats on the water, but they are powered by reliable and quiet 4-stroke 8-horsepower outboards. What’s more, when Ries is sitting in one, it’s as much a threat to the fish as any boat on the bay.

The numbers tell the tale.

Ries diligently records his catches using a counter reminiscent of a cribbage board. Through 2005 he’d pegged his way through a staggering 8,120 gamefish over the course of 304 San Diego Bay fishing outings. That’s an average of nearly 27 fish per trip. The vast majority of all those fish caught and released were Ries’ love, the spotted bay bass.

“They’re so aggressive. They fight hard for their size. If they were as big as calicos they’d tear up this light gear. You’d need to break out the heavy gear. They’re great fun,” said Ries.

Along with the spotties has come a parade of other fish: halibut, croaker, sharks, rays, bonito, barracuda, and even the exotic bonefish. Incidental catches all, they highlight the incredible diversity of southern San Diego Bay.

“I target the spotted bay bass. All the other stuff comes along sooner or later,” said Ries. Sometimes he catches nothing but bass, but on other days he’s treated to a spicy variety. Take bonefish.

Ries had caught and released 122 of the tropical torpedoes through 2005. Ries said the drag-burning fish made of “pure muscle” are getting bigger.

Ries doesn’t always emerge victorious when he tangles with the odd bigger fish. Sometimes the mystery fish slice or break his line. “They could be angel sharks, barracuda, corvina, you don’t know what it was,” said Ries, who laughingly lamented that the bottom is paved with his jigs.

The humble Ries, a quiet and dignified Navy veteran of three wars, disavows any special knowledge of bay fishing.

“I don’t know everything there is to know about bay fishing. When you think you know everything, you get proved wrong,” said Ries. In fact, Ries’ techniques are shockingly straightforward although highly refined in the same sense that high-octane racing fuel was once just basic black crude.

If Ries can catch so many fish, anyone willing to put in the time and effort to hone his skills on San Diego Bay can match the results. I know, because I faithfully followed his instructions on a recent trip. Although I didn’t come close to matching the master fish for fish, I experienced an incredible day. Suffice it to say a private boat outfitted with sonar and a trolling motor is strictly optional; one of Seaforth’s little red rental skiffs is plenty of boat for the job.

What’s the secret? Besides time on the water, an eye for detail, a feel for the drift, a deadly hookset, and a sense of where the fish are today if they aren’t where they were yesterday?

These are tactics developed by a man with a probing mind, someone who loves to fish so much that he fabricated his own gear from scraps while a sailor in the South Pacific of World War II. Experimentation was the key, although Ries acknowledges a debt to Mike Gardner for his book Fish Have No Hands. You’ll have to figure some it for yourself.

The first key is to use light line, 6 to 8-pound test. Next, be mobile. Move around until you find the fish. There are some just about anywhere, but keep looking until you find the areas where the fish concentrate. It will take more than a trip or two.

Use leadhead jigs paired with small plastic lures. Greens and oranges are widely believed to be the most effective in the bay. Make long casts, allow the lures to fall to the bottom, and then retrieve them slowly, repeat, slowly. Fish will hit an unadorned jig, but you can increase the number of strikes by adding a scent product such as a jelly or spray. When you feel a strike, don’t set immediately. Reel the fish onto the line, then, when it is tight, you can drive the hook home.

The best time to go fishing is any time you can. A better time to fish the bay is when the water is moving due to a moderate to large tide change. Look for a swing of three feet or more. This is all basic stuff, but deadly effective when employed correctly.

On my recent trip with Ries, he motored our Seaforth skiff south of the gracefully arcing span of the Coronado Bridge and onto a vast area of shallow flats. I caught the first fish, a legal spotty, on my first cast. Minutes later we’d each put five bass in the boat. That was the last time I was in sight of the crafty angler who calls himself “an ancient mariner.”

I watched as Ries, his face a study in concentration, carefully worked his bait. His attention rarely if ever wavered. The former commercial fisherman and partyboat skipper missed few bites, whereas I often pulled the trigger too soon or too late. It took a while to develop a feel for the sometimes soft takes.

During one retrieve, my line tightened to a dead weight. I could feel the beats of a big tail, but couldn’t budge the fish off the bottom. More than 10 minutes passed before the 4-foot long shovelnose guitarfish grudgingly surfaced.

The wind came up as it often does on southern San Diego Bay, so Ries moved our skiff into the partial lee provided by the Silver Strand. There we picked at the bass, but added two legal halibut and several undersize flatties to our count.

As we drifted back towards the center of the bay something good picked up Ries’ lure.

The fish erratically zoomed one way and then turned and raced in the other direction. Ries held on patiently, allowing his drag and the rod do the work of tiring the fish. Soon enough the speed demon was revealed to be the south bay’s secret star: the bonefish. Ries carefully cradled the surprisingly delicate fish and then gently released it.

By the time we called it a day, Ries had caught 68 fish in just over four hours. The student had 47. Most were spotted bay and sand bass, but the count was sprinkled with halibut, a shovelnose, and a bonefish. All from a basic Seaforth rental skiff, and all on just one simple plastic lure. You can do it too.

“Any time two guys can catch 100 or better that’s a really good day,” said Ries.

BONEFISH: SAN DIEGO BAY’S TROPICAL TREAT – Many people are surprised to hear a population of bonefish lives in the warm waters at the south end of San Diego Bay. The fish appear to be doing well. Ries had caught and released 122 of the tropical torpedoes through 2005. Ries said the drag-burning fish made of “pure muscle” are getting bigger

ANCIENT MARINER FISHES ON – Fishing historian and author Ed Ries has found an unlikely fountain of youth: the salty green waters of south San Diego Bay. As this spotted bay bass found, when Ries is seated in one of Seaforth Boat Rental’s little red bay skiffs, it’s as big a threat to fish as any boat on the bay.

RED-EYED RASCALS – Spotted bay bass aren’t especially large, but they sure are mean. Ries lovingly refers to them as “permanently PO’d.” A big one is 14 inches long and weighs a couple of pounds.

SHOVELNOSE SURPRISE – South San Diego Bay is home quite a cast of finny characters: halibut, croaker, sharks, rays, bonito, barracuda, and bonefish. Ries encounters most of them while fishing for bass. The exotics snap up the same baits. This shovelnose guitarfish fell for a plastic grub.

BONUS HALIBUT – Some days Ries catches only bass. Most days something else comes along, including the occasional legal halibut.