Salmon Fever: Catch It! : A Fishing Bonanza Off the Ventura Coast Hooks Hordes of Anglers Seeking a Sumptuous Course From a School Filled With 20-Pound-Plus Prizes

The huge salmon rolled on the surface, his energy spent and his glistening silver body flashing in the crimson sunrise as the angler coaxed the magnificent fish toward the net. Curt Gowdy, Alaska? Ted Williams, Nova Scotia?

Naw.

Joe Ortega, Oxnard.

That king salmon, which weighed about 20 pounds, had accompanied many of his brothers and sisters in a rather astonishing show of force along the Ventura County coast. Fishermen began catching them last weekend, and by Tuesday the run was in full swing with about 50 of the fish being caught by anglers aboard commercial sport-fishing boats and countless others--perhaps as many as 100--being brought aboard private boats.

The heavy action continued Wednesday and Thursday, with all indicators pointing toward a heavy and sustained run of the salmon.

Most of the action has taken place within a mile of the entrance to the Channel Islands Harbor in Oxnard. As word has gotten out about the concentration of salmon, the area in which the fish are holding--over a steep canyon where the water plunges to depths of more than 1,000 feet--has drawn great numbers of boats. On a recent day, more than 80 vessels were jammed into the area, from the 90-foot sport fishers like the Morning Star out of CISCO’s Landing, the boat Ortega whipped his salmon from, to a 17-foot freshwater bass boat manned by Jerry Scotten, a professional guide who normally seeks his largemouth lunkers from Ventura County’s Lake Casitas.

“I heard about the salmon on Tuesday, made a few phone calls and found out that it was for real,” said Doug Hirt of Panorama City, who stood in the Wednesday morning darkness, preparing to board a CISCO’s boat for a crack at the chrome-sided fish. “The great thing is, I didn’t even have to drop everything, like I usually do. I’ve been out of work for two months.”

Hirt is an electrician and said he hopes to be back to work within two weeks. In the meantime, however, he will shun wire for monofilament.

The salmon are big, averaging nearly 20 pounds, with many topping 30 pounds. Because all the fish have been in the same general weight class, it is likely the school comprises fish of the same age, probably 4- or 5-year-old fish that are at least a year and maybe two years away from the intriguing species-sustaining and yet fatal urges that bring them back to spawn and die in the rivers of their birth.

Where are those rivers? Where did these fish come from?

No one is certain.

“It’s safe to assume these fish were spawned in rivers north of San Francisco,” said Shawn Akers, a crew member of a sport-fishing boat out of CISCO’s who holds a degree in marine biology from Cal State Long Beach.

“Beyond that, it would just be a guess. These fish have quite a range, from an occasional showing in San Diego to their normal grounds in the Bering Sea of Alaska.”

Why Oxnard?

“Dinner,” Akers said. “Pure and simple. They have followed their primary food source, the anchovy, into these waters. There are always anchovies here, and often there are a few salmon with them. But this year there has been a tremendous surge in the plankton growth in the nearby canyons, and that has created a huge increase in the number of anchovies. The salmon, upper-level predators in the food chain, have come here and should stay here for quite a while because dinner is here.”

Dinner also is a main reason that anglers begin to froth at the mouth at the mention of salmon. While they often talk of getting a fish on a lure or getting one on live bait, when it comes to salmon, it seems fishermen just want to get one on a plate.

“When it comes to the fight, a salmon can’t compare to a yellowtail or a tuna,” said Phil D’Agay, 37, of El Rio, just outside Oxnard, who decked two salmon, both in excess of 20 pounds, during an outing Wednesday aboard the Morning Star. “They just don’t fight anywhere near as hard. They do fight, and when they jump, it’s a rush. But really, this is the best tasting fish in the ocean. It’s a thrill to hook one and feel the head-shaking they do to get rid of the hook, and the salmon is such a beautiful fish to look at, just to stand back and admire that beautiful silver color.”

But . . .

“I’ll poach these two tonight in steaming water and wine and some spices.”

At midweek, before the crowds had rushed to the landings for a place on one of the boats, the Sea Watch left CISCO’s on a private trip. Aboard were a few deckhands from that boat and others in the CISCO fleet, along with Jack Ward, the owner of the boats and the owner of CISCO’s Landing. The Sea Watch would fish with paying customers aboard later in the day. But for a few hours in early morning, it was time for the pros--the men who have made a living figuring out the intricacies of the ocean and the best ways to fill a fish sack--to have a crack at the salmon.

The pros got skunked.

They caught a few barracuda but not a single salmon, issuing a solid reminder that even though the salmon have appeared in great numbers, this is still fishing, with all of its quirks.

For Ward, who has fished the Southern California waters for several decades, it was, despite the lack of salmon, a wonderful day.

“I like to catch fish, but I really like to watch other people catch fish,” said Ward, staring over the rail as a fat and lively anchovy struggled into the depths at the end of his line. “I don’t get a chance to fish very often these days, but once you get the fever, you never lose it. I got the fever fishing off the rocks in Malibu when I was 2 years old.”

Ward said that while salmon have appeared in the local waters fairly regularly over the past few decades, the current concentration of salmon might rival the biggest local run of all, a bonanza in the spring of 1966 that put salmon on anglers’ tables for a full month.

“When that happened in 1966, you can’t imagine the boats that were out here after them,” Ward said. “Anything that floated had two guys in it fishing for salmon. I had never seen anything like it. Salmon fever. I never dreamed people could get so excited about a fish.

“This run could be just as good as that great one in 1966. The conditions are exactly the same, from the 58-degree water to the huge schools of anchovies. I am really hopeful about this salmon run being one of the best ever around here.”