Barracuda Bliss : Two-Hour Trip Out of L.A. Harbor Produces Fishing Frenzy

Bruce Root can’t believe his eyes. Off toward the horizon, about a quarter-mile away, a huge patch of ocean is churning violently. Root’s heart begins to race much faster than his boat, which is chugging slowly toward the scene.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he says, looking around to see if any of the dozens of nearby boats are moving into the area. They aren’t. Root and his customers will have first crack at an obviously large school of frenzied fish.

He pilots the Sport King, which has made a two-hour run from L.A. Harbor Sportfishing to somewhere off Newport Beach, over a calm sea and into the middle of the disturbance.

Lures are flung in every direction. Hookups are immediate. Rods are bent and reels are singing along both rails and at both ends of the 65-foot vessel.

The entire boat is in a state of chaos. Soon barracuda the size of stovepipes are bouncing over the rail and onto the deck. Heavy iron lures with thick, steel hooks are whirling overhead.

Cries for the gaff fill the air, and Root and deckhand Anthony Griego try to keep up, sticking fish and plopping them on deck, then moving on to the next angler as fast as they can.

Three young men at the port bow, using stout poles and heavy line for maximum efficiency, need no gaffs or instructions from the crew. They are showing a cold-hearted mastery of the art of barracuda slaughter.

Danny Mun, 28, of Los Angeles hooks into a 3 1/2-footer and yells out over the ocean as if to let all of Orange County know. He doesn’t play the fish, but cranks it to the boat as fast as he can, hauling it out of the water and landing it on the deck. He stomps its head, killing it instantly, then rips the lure from the fish’s mouth and casts it out to catch another.

Next to Mun is Tim Messmer, 23, of Downey, who bounces a barracuda of his own. He grabs his six-inch lure, protruding from the fragile jaw of the fish, and twists it until it rips free. He’s reeling in another fish within seconds.

Next to Messmer is Mike Loyarte, 22, of Downey, employing similar methods and, judging from the look on his face, enjoying similar success.

Elsewhere on the boat, the action is a bit more subdued as the sharp-toothed fish are cutting some lines and winning some battles with less-experienced anglers. Still, everyone has fought fish, and most--including first-time saltwater angler Launi Stedman of Hermosa Beach--have put at least one or two on the boat.

The deck is littered with barracuda weighing from three to seven pounds. Clothes are splotched with blood and covered with slime from what is surely the slimiest fish in the sea.

“This is it,” Arnold Kraft, 28, of Los Angeles says after landing one of several barracuda while fishing with his father David on the starboard bow. “This is what we came here for.”

Other boats have moved in to get what fish they can, but the bite suddenly ends. The fish have apparently had enough.

A satisfied but exhausted Root climbs back into the wheelhouse and fires up the Sport King. “That was a good one, but a quick one,” he says to his customers over the public address system. “We picked up about 60 fish in 20 minutes. We’ll see if we can find another spot like that.”

Root puts the boat in gear and moves on. Having forgotten his binoculars, he stands and squints, looking out over the ocean for more churning water, for diving birds--for anything that might indicate another area of fish.

*

Such scenes are being played out regularly these days aboard Southland partyboats after the arrival of large schools of barracuda earlier this spring--first off Ventura, then off Orange County and now at practically all points between.

Their presence couldn’t be more welcome by operators of half- and three-quarter-day boats, which for several months had been operating with light loads or not at all for an obvious reason: “There were no fish so there were no people,” says Jim Peterson, co-owner of L.A. Harbor Sportfishing. “Now the people are coming because the fish are here.”

The Sport King is carrying more than 40 passengers on weekdays and a capacity load of 70-plus on weekends. So are boats from Ventura to San Diego, where anglers armed with heavy lures are participating in the fastest action the nearshore fleet has had all year.

“This is the first big hurrah with anything in quite a while,” says Root, 39, a 14-year veteran skipper on the Sport King. “And this is the nicest average I’ve seen in a couple of years--the fish are averaging five to seven pounds.”

Sidney White, 43, is a former policeman who recently retired. He says he began fishing because “I wanted to do something 360 degrees different than what I was doing.”

Resting between barracuda flurries in the galley of the Sport King, White explains that he is enjoying his retirement. “I get more excitement out here than I did at work chasin’ somebody,” he says.

Arnold Kraft says he and his father, David, noticed the barracuda in the newspaper fish counts a week ago, but were unable to get through to the landings because the lines were busy.

“We’ve been calling all week,” Arnold Kraft says. “We finally got through and I finally got a day off . . . It was well worth the drive.”

So hectic has it been aboard boats this spring that crews have had to deal with more than hooked barracuda. One boat had to return to port early on a trip last week because a careless caster had embedded his lure in the skull of another angler. Several fishermen have been hooked in various parts of their bodies since the fish arrived, but thus far there have been no serious injuries.

Deckhand Griego says the biggest danger is not when people cast overhead, but when they bounce a barracuda over the rail and onto the deck. “They leave the line so tight that if the lure pops free, it might spring up into someone’s face,” Griego says. “Some people just don’t know how to bounce fish.”

Not that Griego is complaining. He makes most of his money on tips and fish-cleaning fees. With customers quickly filling the 10-fish limits, a good day is a great day for Griego.

“Barracuda is a money fish,” he says. “They bring people out and nearly all people who fish for barracuda get their fish cleaned.”

*

Root has brought his customers to several other areas of fish since the furious bite that marked the beginning of this trip, but none has lasted more than 15 minutes.

Root says that on some of his recent trips, his customers had filled their 10-fish limits at only one or two stops, and on one trip they were filled by 10 a.m. “We were back at the dock by 1 p.m.,” he says.

It is well past 1 p.m., and Root is still at it, with about 150 fish aboard for 37 anglers. Time is running out, limits or no limits.

One angler, who has not had a good day, is complaining that Root is acting too hastily, moving without giving one location a chance. Root merely wants to find the next productive spot before one of the other skippers does.

Through squinting eyes, he notices birds diving closer to shore and heads toward the area, where the meter indicates a large area of fish below. Root orders Griego to “throw bait” as chum, and lures fly once more.

Nearly everyone hooks up within 20 seconds and more chaos ensues. Mun, Messmer and Loyarte are back at it on the bow. Root and Griego are back at it with the gaffs. Barracuda are back on the deck, sliming everything.

This bite ends as abruptly as the others. Root finally decides to return home and sets a course for L.A. He radios in an impressive count of 218 barracuda. The passengers gather their fish at the stern to be cleaned.

Mun, Messmer and Loyarte--all with limits--stack their fish on the forward deck before stuffing them in sacks and hauling them aft to the cleaning station.

Loyarte says the three have been following the fish relentlessly this spring.

“We went to Ventura and we just killed them up there, and when when they started hitting here we came out here--and I guess we killed them here, too.”