Playin’ the Angles : Teen Parlays Love of Fishing Into Job as Deckhand

Dustin Devoe is only 17, but as a deckhand on a sportfishing boat, he’s an old pro.

This afternoon, he is flipping a double-cheese hamburger on the sizzling grill, scooting around the galley in free moments to clean tables. A lanky teen-ager whose sunburned nose is peeling, Devoe does everything there is to be done on the deck of the Nautilus, from helping anglers bait their hooks to dispensing advice on avoiding seasickness.

“Doesn’t always work though,” Dustin said with a grin to a green-gilled landlubber. “About the only thing I don’t do well on this boat is keep some people from getting sick.”

Dustin first stepped aboard a sportfishing boat owned by the Newport Landing two summers ago as an angler, paying to learn about deep-sea fishing. He went back the next day, and the next and soon was running around the deck, lending the crew a helping hand.

By the end of that summer, he was handed a red Newport Landing T-shirt and hired on as a deckhand. He works full time each summer and on the weekends during school.

“It’s a fun job. I get to help people who like the same thing I like--fishing,” said Devoe, who will be a senior at Monte Vista High School in Costa Mesa this year. “And when it’s slow, I go fishing. What a job, huh?”

Devoe is one of about 20 deckhands working on sportfishing boats this summer in Orange County. They’re mostly high school students who return summer after summer to a job they consider more fun than work. At $45 a day, the 10 hours a day of fast-paced, physical labor is still hard work.

Devoe awakes at 5 a.m. five or six days a week to make the Nautilus’ first run, which leaves the Balboa Island dock at 6 a.m. and returns to shore by noon. The second run begins at 12:30 p.m., and the twilight run--which he does not work--at 6:30 p.m.

“Dustin’s a natural on a boat,” said the vessel’s captain, 35-year-old Mark Eidemiller of Dana Point. “He knows everything there is to know about working on the Nautilus. I wouldn’t be surprised if he becomes a captain sometime soon.”

On this sunny afternoon, when Eidemiller turns off the boat’s engine five miles offshore, Devoe jumps on a wooden box and begins to “chum,” tossing small, wiggling anchovies into the ocean to attract the large tuna, sea bass and mackerel the anglers are after.

Within 10 minutes, some anglers are reeling in their catches.

“Sorry, this one’s not big enough,” Devoe tells a young woman, as he unhooks a barracuda from her line and throws it back. “It has to be at least 28 inches long to keep.”

Luck was with another angler, who struggled to reel in a big one. “You’re doing great! Hang on to it! Don’t give in!” Devoe yells as he runs alongside the fisherman, making sure he is there if his help is needed.

It isn’t. The angler pulls in what turns out to be the biggest catch of the day, a 19-pound yellowtail.

When the boat starts back toward shore three hours later, anglers are tired but happy. It has been a good day. Almost everyone has reeled in something, and those who leave empty-handed say they had fun.

Devoe’s job, however, is not done. He still must fillet the fish of those too squeamish to eviscerate their catches. A slit here, a slash there, and minutes later the fish is boned.

“It’s not my favorite job, but I don’t mind it,” Devoe said. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

After all the fish have been filleted and packaged, Devoe and the other crew members wash and scrub the deck. By the time the Nautilus reaches shore, the boat is gleaming again, ready for the twilight run.

After he gets off work at 6 p.m., Devoe usually heads back to the beach to go surfing with friends. Truth be told, he’d rather spend all his summer days on a board.

“But surfing just doesn’t pay you money,” Devoe said. “Working on a boat does, and I like it and it keeps me out of trouble. And that’s enough for me.”