San Quintin: World Class Fishing

When anglers hear the words, " Let's go Baja fishing", our minds are quickly transported to the warm, clean, blue waters of the Pacific or the gulf of Baja California. Our visions of  tranquil fishing villages, warm, friendly people and hospitable lodgings made our selection easy. We agreed to re-visit one of our favorite places with its fortunate fishing waters... San Quintin. Being only five hours south of LA, it was an easy decision to make.
We made arrangements through El tiburon pangas, an outfitter with a good reputation, skillful captains and good service. We made reservations for two days fishing, the skiffs or pangas, were waiting for us at 5:00 am at the small dock on the only ramp in the village.

Main ramp adjacent to the Old Molino bar and restaurant

 On our first day, we met our captain "el chiflas", the whistler. He earned his moniker because he whistles when he works. And he really works and knows the waters and hot spots. The first thing we needed to do was to catch our own bait. We dropped our sabikis, bait catching rigs, and quickly filled the bait tank with small mackerels about 6 in long.

This is the perfect spot to catch your bait; the birds and the porpoises don't mind sharing with us.

We gathered plenty of live bait, small mackerel about 6 in long. We dispatched ourselves with all deliberate speed to the outer waters of the bay.

Fish on! As soon as we dropped our line, Javi hooked the first one of the day.

Manny hooks on a powerful swimmer and a good fighter, a big yellow tail. We quickly pulled our line out of the water to give him ample room to go around the boat.

Javi and Manny happily show off their first catch of the day.

Having taught these young men how to fish when they were kids... I refused to stay behind so I landed my own white sea-bass.

Just as we were thinking of returning to shore, Javi hooked a huge white sea-bass. He was most proud
of his catch because he brought on board a 69 pound fish with a twenty pound leader.

After a fruitful morning, we decided to look for some bottom fish and completed filling the coolers with a variety of reds, rocker, corvinas and others. Once full, we headed to shore where members of El Tiburon's team were ready to filet our catch while we retreated to  a good rest and dinner.

Our second day was more of the same.  Our new captain that day was Pedro.  We caught our share of sea-bass, barracudas, rock cod and smaller bass, filling our second set of coolers.

Manny and Javi with captain, "el chifles"

Manny with Captain Pedro.

JE NE SAIS QUOI In The Eastern Sierras

Over the past several years, our group of anxious urban city dwellers have taken advantage of the best rainbow fishing the Eastern Sierras has to offer. This year, we eagerly prepared for our trip. Bob, our guide, met us over lunch. He brought with him hand-made topography maps . He shared that his  inspiration were the photographs and presentation we saw at The National Historic site: Manzanar.  He marveled at the skill and success the Japanese had fishing under under dangerous and difficult condition. They  mastered their own skills of hooking trophy size trout. He searched old travel logs, DWP maps, mountain hiker's logs and  Google Earth pictures of hidden streams, lagoon, ponds and fishing holes.

North side view of Mt Whitney, a place of  rough, peaceful beauty.

As we approached the majestic sight of Mount Whitney, Bob quickly foraged through his papers and began shouting orders: "turn here! go straight!No right... left, cross that bridge, Wait, wait ... follow that path". Our fellowship had entered a wild uncultivated area of transitory nebulae and pot holes.
After what seemed like an eternity under the scorching sun, Bob finally said, "Let me study these maps again."
After a few rip-roaring minutes, our brave company stopped and started again ... and again. Finally we pulled into some heavy brush as Bob shouted "over there, there, there the stream!"  pointing to what he called a stream, the rest of us identified it as trickle of water.  As we  walked about the "stream", he shouted,  "Look there's the fish pond!" He grabbed his fishing pole and rushed over to it. The rest us, bewildered, just looked at each other. We grabbed a cold bottle of water and meandered over to find him with his fishing line in a puddle. "Well guys you know... it must be the drought., that's why it's so small" . We praised him for trying and scampered out of there headeding to Intake II,  a small lake in the mountains above Bishop.

Geographic area where we searched for Bob's elusive fishing pond.

On the following day of our fishing escapades, we decided to venture out to Little Virginia Lake. Upon arrival and noticing that the parking lot was overflowing with  recreational vehicles, we discerned that we had arrived arrived in a hot spot. The was a rumor that the lake would be restocked today. Bob had been tracking the fish stoking dates closely and he was sure that the rumor was true.  Jorge and I quickly made our way towards the far side of the lake. We arrived  out of breath, found a suitable spot, baited our hooks, cast away our lines and sat down to catch our breath. Bob, Manny and Javier, all stationed themselves  for a fruitful fishing day. No sooner than the time it took us to settle ourselves, we noticed a stampede of anglers heading away from the lake. It didn't take long for to find out why... No one was catching anything! After another 30 minutes, we joined them. We would  travel further but we were sure to catch more fish. Jorge, who was already in a grumpy mood because our trip was one day longer than he wanted, was not keen on driving to the Walker River. Getting lost on the way north didn't do anything to improve his disposition. Instead, we decided to stop at Rock Creek, a lake that always gives a good return.

From left to right Manny, Javier, Jorge and Bob getting their poles ready for their insertion into Rock Creek lake.

Here's how Javier and Jorge skulking their best efforts of hooking trout at Rock Creek,
 no wonder they left empty handed.

While  we saw anglers catch some fish, we felt that it was most important for us to take time and enjoy the experience. There is no hurry or quota to meet, no time cards to punch. When we had our fill of admiring the wonders of mother nature we would just mosey on down the mountain for a good dinner with a nice glass of Chardonnay.

We followed the group's wishes to "hit" a variety of water environments: creeks, lakes, streams and river. Therefore, the following day, we headed out to the Owens river in Bishop by the airport district. For the first time Jorge became animated at the sight of trout jumping out of the water.  He grabbed his pole and ran to the edge of the river, the rest of the group followed.

Jorge and his reflection on the water, casting out for the jumping rainbow trout.

Manny fly fishing with a variety of  flies.

Bob trying some "field goal' casting his line some 15 feet above the river bank.

Javier using two poles: one north, one south trying his best to catch a big one.

While many anglers come strictly to fill their cooler, our team's primary goal is to indulge ourselves in the high country, enjoy the comradeship, get a few fish but most of all, admire the majestic Sierra Nevada. We take the time to enjoy the magnificent mountains, vivid waters,  picturesque towns and their wonderful people.

We'll be back again next year.