ROCK ‘N REELIN : Catching Cod Isn’t Very Sporty or Very Pretty, Just Very Tasty

After many turns of the reel’s handle, Mike Willoughby’s strange-looking catch was coming into view.

Six fish in various tones of red appeared from down deep, slowly twirling while affixed to a six-hook gang hook. Bug-eyed and bloated, they looked to be in a trance, seemingly horror-struck as they were lifted onto the deck, virtually lifeless.

Willoughby, who traveled to Redondo Beach’s King Harbor from Victorville, was happy, however, having added yet another bunch of fish to his sack, which already included what would be the biggest fish of the day: an 18-pound cow cod.

His total haul--15 fish averaging about seven pounds--would mean fresh fish for the folks at St. Mary’s Desert Community Hospital in Apple Valley, where Willoughby works as a maintenance engineer. “A lot of them can’t eat red meat,” he said. “So I either give them fish or trade for homemade egg rolls and tortillas.”

Willoughby wasn’t the only one enjoying himself, his angling success being mirrored by nine other passengers aboard Redondo Sportfishing’s 85-foot Blackjack.

Each continuously hauled up stringers of rockfish; all caught their 15-fish limits, which varied in species. Roughly 70 species of rockfish thrive off the Southern California coast.

It was volume fishing at the outer banks. A 7 1/2-hour boat ride into the open ocean, unsightly bottom-dwellers with inflated bladders protruding from their mouths. It might as well have been the outer limits.

But with the winter-time absence of game fish, rock cod season is in full swing, a mainstay for various landings from Alaska to the Mexican border. “That, and whale-watching,” said Dr. Alec MacCall, a fisheries biologist with the National Marine Fisheries Service in La Jolla.

Sportfishermen caught 8.7 million pounds of rockfish off the California coast in 1986, according to MacCall. Of that, 4.6 million pounds was caught off Southern California. Commercial fishermen caught about 30 million pounds in California waters during the same period.

After a couple “scratchy” previous days fishing near San Nicholas Island, Blackjack skipper Dennis Luckenbach decided to try the Cherry Bank, located 74 miles southwest of Redondo’s King Harbor, about 20 miles off the east end of San Nicholas Island.

Passengers bunked shortly after the Blackjack’s midnight departure, until its arrival at 7:30 a.m. The depth sounder showed large amounts of fish, stacked 30 feet high on the ocean floor, 650 feet below.

The fishermen, who paid $35 each for the excursion, wasted no time in dropping to the bottom, the line spinning from their large reels as fast as the three-pound weights would allow.

With live squid or chunks of frozen squid placed on several threaded feather-hooks--some had up to 10--results came quickly.

A brief tug signaled the first fish. Once the gang hook was seemingly full--one never knew for sure--the inordinate fight began.

Slowly and steadily the fishermen winched their elongated handles, each trying unsuccessfully to comfortably position the stout rod for the long haul up.

Some straddled the rod for support, others leaned their bodies on the butt of the rod while reeling. A fortunate few had rod belts to hold the pole in place during the virtual hundreds of turns it took to reach the surface.

“I feel like a crane operator,” said Dave Underwood, a Redondo Beach resident who was rock codding for the first time. His first load included two rock cod and a 10-pound red snapper.

Said Luckenbach: “It does take a little patience, and a strong back.”

If reeled in too fast, the mouth of a fish might open, causing it to fill with water and drop off the hook. Considering the work involved, most were careful not to do that.

Too slow and the line would slacken, causing the fish to slip off the hook.

That’s the extent of the sport involved with catching rock cod.

But as co-skipper Derry Deravin put it: “They aren’t out here for the sport. They’re out here to fill the freezers.”

Lee Haile, a 31-year-old Hawthorne resident who fishes regularly for rock cod, agreed.

“I come out here strictly for the beef,” he said. Haile reeled in four nine-pound red snappers on one haul.

Rock cod, cow cod, red snapper and chili peppers: All are members of the Scorpaenidae family and bear no true relationship to the cod family.

But at about $4 a pound, their existence is welcomed by many.

“There’s nothing else going on,” said James Hamada, a Los Angeles area realtor and regular rock cod fisherman. “A lot of people either hang up their poles, or come out here.”