Half Full, Not Half Empty : For Youngsters, Inexperienced Anglers, an Entire Day on the Water Is Too Much of a Good Thing, So They Prefer Shorter Excursions

It was the type of chaos everyone was hoping for, brought on by an invasion of one of the fastest, meanest and leanest species of game fish in the sea.

And this being a half-day excursion, with first-time fishermen and very young children aboard, it was the type of chaos everyone expected.

Barracuda, a thuggish-looking fish with a tail for trouble and a protruding jaw loaded with sharp, canine-like teeth, arrived in waves.

Darting about like errant missiles, they leaped and slashed in what soon became a frenzied assault on anchovies and sardines tossed their way by Jimmy Hon, a deckhand on the Southern Cal, which runs out of Long Beach Sportfishing.

Matt Lauritzen, a 12-year-old from Lomita, was the first to land one, a five-pound “stove pipe” of a fish that fell for a purple and black Killer Jig.

It turned out the fuzzy-headed kid had an advantage over most.

“I’m a pinhead,” he said. A pinhead, he explained, is a young angler willing to work on the boat for no pay in order to fish without paying.

He flung his lure back to the sea and waited for another strike.

Soon, nearly everyone aboard had his hands full of barracuda. But given the variance of age and talent aboard, not everyone was dealing with them the same way.

Woody Baysac, 40, of Long Beach, one of the more experienced fisherman aboard, showed his expertise at the stern, keeping a tight line, battling fish after fish into submission.

Phillip Friedman, 4, of Torrance, one of the least experienced, did most of his catching after the fish landed on deck.

The young angler managed to pick up one large barracuda and bring it to his chest. It was as tall as he was, but it soon slid through his arms, down his powder-blue sweat shirt and back onto the deck. He tried to pick it up again, but it kept slipping through his hands.

They don’t call them “slime sticks” for nothing.

Friedman’s clothes were not only slimy but soaked, his hair full of scales from his splashing about the bait tank with newfound friend, Ryan Kelsey, 7, of Redlands.

Between them, they caught more fish than anyone--albeit little ones: anchovies and sardines, plucked from the bait tanks with their grubby little hands.

And so it went on the Southern Cal. And so it goes on half-day boats up and down the Southern California coast. Indeed, the half-day experience, thanks largely to the seasonal arrival of barracuda--sand bass and bonito are other popular draws--is alive and well this summer.

“I prefer the half-days because I work the second shift in the afternoon at [McDonnell] Douglas,” said Baysac after landing his third or fourth barracuda. “I start at 2 p.m. and we get back at 12:30 so I have plenty of time to get to work.”

Said Tosh Ishibashi, a spokesman for Redondo Sportfishing: “They’re popular because we catch a lot of fish and we’re not out there all day. And if we are getting skunked we’re only getting skunked for half a day and not all day, and everyone knows it’s better to get skunked for half a day than a full day.”

And because the trips are only half a day, ranging from five to six hours--and not seven or eight hours for three-quarter day trips and up to 24 hours for full-day trips--they are ideal for senior citizens and parents who want to introduce their children to the sport without subjecting them to long hours under the sun.

“That’s how I started, on half-day boats with my dad, who used to bring me when he saw the barracuda were biting,” said Dennis Kelsey, Ryan’s father. “So I thought it was time to bring Ryan. I was a little apprehensive at first, because he’s never been on the ocean before, but he was so excited last night and he was wired all the way here this morning. He kept asking, ‘When are we going to get there?’ ”

When he finally did, he wasted no time making his presence known.

“He already knows the cook’s name [Donna] and half the passenger’s names,” Kelsey said, as the Southern Cal made its way out of Long Beach Harbor and headed toward a popular half-day stop known as Horseshoe Kelp.

Said Brian Green, the thirty-something skipper of the Southern Cal: “I like having kids aboard because they’re at that age where they’re developing interests--it’s good for them and it’s good for the industry.

“I like it, except when the parents rely on us to baby sit while they put a line in the water and ignore their kids. Unfortunately, that happens.”

During this trip, on a calm sea under a gray sky, the parents of about six children--taking advantage of the landing’s “Kids Fish Free” program this month--kept as close a watch as possible.

But that didn’t keep young Kelsey out of the stern bait tank, or young Friedman from sticking his head under a cascade of water spilling from the tank at the bow.

The boat chugged on. In the wheelhouse, Green listened to Dan Stanton, a retired skipper turned customer, reminisce about the good old days, when a horseshoe-shaped ring of kelp was actually visible on the surface of the current fishing site, a few miles off the coast.

He recalled the days when albacore used to come into the Catalina Channel, when barracuda flooded local waters to the point where they were considered pests by some.

Phillip Friedman, father of Phillip Jr. and the voice of the Southland’s fishing information phone line, 976-TUNA, tried to get into the conversation, but had to go chasing after his son, whom he found kneeling atop the stern bait tank, clutching and talking to another wriggling sardine.

Green metered some fish, and stopped at an area in the northern reaches of the Horseshoe Kelp, where a few other boats were having some success.

Lines were dropped, lures cast, and after several minutes fish started coming over the rail. Stanton hauled up a small treefish, a strange-looking rockfish with thick stripes, pink lips and spines on its head and back.

Fernando Cortez, 38, a twice-a-week half-day fisherman from Lomita, caught a calico bass, which was too small to keep. (He later caught an 8-pound barracuda, which earned him jackpot honors).

Eddie Padilla, 22, of Whittier, hauled up a three-foot shark, which was gawked at briefly by the kids before being thrown back.

Several anglers caught sculpin, bright red, prickly and poisonous, but with flesh that cooks up flaky white and tasty, or so they say.

Still, fishing was slow by summer standards.

Hon kept up the chumming, however, tossing handfuls of anchovies and sardines that slowly began to attract the voracious barracuda.

Flashes of silver could be seen beneath the surface as the slender gamefish chased down the skittering little baitfish, cutting them to pieces with their razor-sharp teeth.

The baitfish didn’t stand a chance. To be an anchovy or sardine must be to live in constant fear. Everyone is after you: The predators, the bait catchers with their nets, the fishermen with their hooks and the children who grab and squeeze you.

But then, to be a barracuda in the vicinity of a half-day boat, despite all the chumming, is no picnic either.