OK, Maybe Media Is to Blame For This : It’s Not Bananas: Anglers Insist a Reporter’s Notebook or TV Camera Enough to Make Entire Schools of Fish Head in a Different Direction

Power of the press?

Brian Green has his own idea about that.

It became evident when he saw a camera come out of its case on a recent fishing trip, and then another, a video camera, atop a photographer’s shoulder.

A double whammy.

“Cameras . . . cameras aren’t any good,” he moaned, his hands over his face.

As skipper of Long Beach Sportfishing’s Southern Cal, one of the Southland’s popular half-day boats, Green recognizes the importance of maintaining a high profile, and thus is more than willing to accommodate media types.

But he does so with mixed emotions because he, like skippers and landing operators up and down the coast, is aware of “the media jinx.”

It ranks right up there with bananas.

Well, almost. Some skippers won’t even allow the yellow fruit on their boats, claiming it is the most powerful hex ever to hit the fishing fleet.

A close second, it seems, are outdoor writers.

On a recent trip with Green, two were on board to document the barracuda blitz that had occurred in local waters. The fleet had been scoring counts well into the hundreds for three consecutive days. The spring fishing season had begun with a bang.

But on this day, aboard the Southern Cal, it fizzled, big-time.

“The last time [out], we were bouncing fish [over the rail] all over the place,” said Robert Leonard, 31, a regular on the vessel.

The best bite on this excursion was the one his 12-year-old son, Robert Jr., put on a cheeseburger.

Now, it may sound silly that someone with a note pad, a camera, or both, could affect the activity in a fish bowl the size of the Pacific Ocean.

But given the mysterious goings-on off the coast, some aren’t so sure.

John Bourget, tournament director for the annual Santa Monica Bay Halibut Derby, recalled the time he invited representatives of the press from throughout the Southland for a pre-derby trip aboard the Del Mar.

“We went out anticipating a nice situation, then the water got so rough, almost everybody got wiped out wet,” he said. “As a matter of fact, it chased us in. The skipper would not stay.”

Said John Glackin, owner of Redondo Sportfishing: “There’s something about you media guys.”

Glackin, who also skippers on occasion, cited the time Rich Holland of Western Outdoor News went out with him. The halibut that had moved in suddenly disappeared.

“Another time, he shut off the calico bass,” Glackin said of Holland.

Another such person is Phillip Friedman, a respected and knowledgeable businessman who for 10 years has run a popular fishing hot-line and who recently has begun making fishing videos and informational cassettes.

Nobody can shut off a bite the way Friedman can.

He began using an albacore as his logo nine years ago, and the longfin tuna haven’t shown locally since.

With predictions this year of a strong El Nino current, which usually results in exotic species of fish visiting local waters, Friedman put out a cassette on how to fish during El Nino .

Now El Nino, to some extent anyway, appears to have petered out.

“I reversed an El Nino, “ Friedman said. “How bad can it get?”

He was aboard the Southern Cal on its nothing-doing barracuda run, hoping to shoot footage for a video. The fish apparently saw him coming.

So did Brian Kenna, a boat electrician who works at several local landings. “There goes fishing for the day,” he quipped.

Sure enough, the only footage Friedman got was of the lures used to catch barracuda. Not that any of them worked.

As if to rub it in, two anglers in a small boat cruised to within 30 feet of the Southern Cal, hooked up and promptly hauled in a stovepipe-sized barracuda.

Those aboard the Southern Cal shook their heads and deckhand Arnie Searing said to Friedman, “Let me know when you come out again. I’ll take the day off.”

Friedman realizes that sort of thing is said in jest, but he may be developing a complex.

Three weeks ago, he chartered the Sea Hawk out of Santa Barbara to see first-hand what the salmon fever was all about.

The fish had invaded the Ventura-Santa Barbara area as never before and everyone was catching them. It was as sure a thing as a fisherman could ask for. And the Sea Hawk had been one of the top boats.

Then Friedman stepped aboard.

A big wind came up. It scattered the bait--and the salmon. All of Santa Barbara was skunked.

Meanwhile, only a dozen or so miles south, off Ventura and Oxnard, anglers had their hands full with the spirited salmon.

One skipper has gone so far as to tell Friedman, perhaps jokingly (he is not so sure), “Stick to what you know best: talking about it and not doing it.”

His reputation as “King Kiss of Death” is still gaining momentum, despite his efforts to change his karma by arranging to host inner-city children on Redondo’s deep-sea barge every Friday in May.

The wind closed the barge on the first Friday, leaving the children high and dry. It happened again the next Friday, forcing Friedman into a backup plan. He took the children to the docks at Long Beach Sportfishing, where they spent the day catching mackerel.

“Not even I can shut off a mackerel bite,” Friedman said. “There are too many of them.”

As outdoor editor of this newspaper, I never really believed in such nonsense.

Fishing is fishing, and sometimes there is no catching. It’s part of the game.

But maybe there is something to this jinx stuff. Lately, anyway, there has been too much fishing and not enough catching.

I mean, not many people can travel to Costa Rica and spend five consecutive days fishing some of the most productive waters in the world and catch nothing but an angry turtle.

In a river in Nicaragua, tarpon boiled and swirled on the surface by the hundreds, sometimes within a few feet of the boat, but not one would take my lure. Or anyone else’s on my boat, for that matter.

“I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire life,” said veteran guide Peter Gorinsky, a quizzical look on his face.

I happened to be aboard the Sea Hawk and the Southern Cal. Naturally, I blamed the lack of action on Friedman, but wondered deep down whether I might be the one shutting off the bite.

I needed the salmon feature, so a few days later, concerned that another trip might spoil things for both me and a boat full of earnest anglers, I sent a photographer out alone. Being no kiss of death, he got the pictures and the story was complete. The barracuda feature has yet to materialize.

What can I do to break the jinx, to keep my reputation intact?

Bourget suggested keeping a banana in my pocket.

“That way you can blame it on the banana,” he said.

Friedman, meanwhile, said to accept the situation and enjoy it while it lasts.

“We’ve got the power, baby,” he said. “Anyone can go catch fish. How many people do you know who can go out and shut off a good bite?”