It’s Hook, Line and Sinker for Kids

Christopher Higa was as impressed as anyone by the giant freighters that dwarfed the fishing boat he was on as it made its way through Long Beach Harbor, and by the towering cranes loading enormous tubs of cargo.

And as the boat passed out of the channel and into the bay, he seemed content to be leaving behind the only world he had known for one ruled by sharks and perhaps even great big sea monsters lurking somewhere out there in the murky, green depths of this huge, mysterious ocean.

But the 9-year-old from Alta Loma Elementary School in Los Angeles soon developed a serious problem with what was happening aboard the vessel itself. He hurried to the side of the nearest grown-up, looked him in the eye and muttered that he was scared.

Asked what he was afraid of, he pointed to his fellow grade schoolers lining up outside the wheelhouse, waiting to take their turn behind the controls, and said, “I’m scared because the kids are driving the boat.”

Standing next to Higa was Jefferson Mejia, 8, whose only concern was what to do with all the fish he was going to catch. “I’m going to let them all go back where they live,” he said, motioning to the rippling sea.

Realizing that he had not given this matter enough thought, he turned and announced that he was going to take his fish home instead.

“I thought you were going to let them all go?” the grown-up asked.

“Only two,” Mejia explained, nodding as if this were the perfect compromise and his final decision.

And so it went for Higa and Mejia, and dozens of other intrepid young anglers from Langdon Elementary in North Hills and Alta Loma who had embarked on their first fishing trip.

Sniffing the salt air, marveling at the grace of the gulls soaring overhead, running to the galley for more food, they were making the most of this new and refreshing experience.

“Some of them never even knew what the water looked like before today,” said Guille Pulido, coordinator for the L.A.’s Best After School Enrichment Program, which is designed to allow children growing up in low-income, high-crime neighborhoods to do things they might otherwise never be able to do.

Fishing trips became part of the program three years ago when Philip Friedman, president of the fishing information hotline, 976-TUNA, took a few dozen kids on a single excursion donated by Long Beach Sportfishing.

This year the cooperative effort--Long Beach Sportfishing supplied the boat and crew, 976-TUNA the volunteers and L.A.’s Best the children--in eight trips over a two-week period introduced 800 boys and girls from 16 schools to to a world far removed from the drugs and thugs that have infected theirs.

“Many of these kids, all they see is their little world and that could be only six blocks by six blocks,” 976-TUNA’s Ed White said, while baiting the hook of a boy anxious to get his line back in the water. “Now they see that there’s something else out there, so they’re thinking, ‘Maybe I’d like to make my world a little bit bigger.’ ”

Added volunteer Raymond Penn: “If they get just one day of this . . . it’s something they can hold onto forever.”

That’s more than could be said about the lively mackerel they began to catch as soon as the boat stopped near the harbor entrance.

Bryan Osario, 8, nearly choked his fish to death trying to hold it long enough to have his picture taken.

Santa Lucia, 10, never could come to grips with grabbing one and made it clear that catching fish was her job, clutching them was someone else’s.

Having been on so many trips with serious, experienced anglers, it was a nice change of pace to watch inexperienced youngsters in action.

They could have shown the hotshots a thing or two about how to act. Not one of them shoved past to the prime spot on the rail. Not one of them uttered a word of profanity when another one crossed a line. Not one of them came with expectations so high that they were sure to be dashed when the fish didn’t bite.

Instead they came with the attitude all fishermen begin with, but one many lose when they start taking the sport too seriously. They didn’t care what they caught and considered themselves fortunate merely to have the chance to catch something.

And catch something they did.

Ebony Miller, 10, after realizing that the pieces of squid piled on the bait tank weren’t so gross after all, began baiting her own hook and quickly became one of the top anglers, reeling in fish after fish, sharing her secret with anyone who would listen.

“I catch so many because I use this part,” she told one of her classmates, dangling the tentacled head of a squid in front of her face, prompting a shriek that rang out across the harbor.

Estuardo Marroquin, 11, brought a strange-looking silvery fish over the rail and wanted to know what it was. When told it was a queenfish, he looked at the mackerel his friend was holding and said, “I’d rather have one of those.”

When skipper John Batts finally informed the youngsters it was time to return to the docks, they let out a collective sigh, but were not about to let this information spoil their fun.

They formed a line first at the galley counter, where hot dogs were being served, and then back at the wheelhouse, where soon even Higa was waiting for his turn at the controls.

Mejia remained below, waiting for the deckhand to give him his fish. It was too late to set them free, but that didn’t keep the third-grader from coming up with another plan.

“I’m going to take them home and build a big home for them to swim around in,” he said.

WORLD-RECORD MESS

Paul Duclos of Santa Rosa, while fishing recently at little Spring Lake near his home, landed what might have been the biggest largemouth bass caught.

But he probably wishes he had stayed home instead.

Duclos said his bass weighed 24 pounds, which would have shattered the 22-pound 4-ounce all-tackle world record set in 1932 in Georgia’s Montgomery Lake. But he weighed the fish on a non-certified bathroom scale his wife brought to the lake.

He didn’t take any measurements, which probably disqualifies the fish from record consideration, and he put it back into the lake and watched it swim away.

This story might have ended there, but Duclos also had his picture taken with the fish and by doing so opened a can of worms he still can’t find the lid for.

The picture, showing a fish that looks as if it could easily weigh 24 pounds, appeared in outdoor publications throughout and beyond California.

Now people won’t stop hounding Duclos, trying to get more information. Many think him a fool for letting slip through his fingers a blimp of a fish that could have been his cash cow, generating all sorts of endorsement offers. After all, there are hundreds of bass fishermen obsessed with breaking George Perry’s 65-year-old record for that very reason.

But Duclos, who reportedly said he originally believed the record was closer to 26 pounds, did release his bass and has gone into hiding.

“It’s ridiculous,” said Robin Wade at Lyles’ tackle shop in Santa Rosa. “Somebody put it on the Internet, and now some radio jockey said there’s a million-dollar fish in Spring Lake, but he blew it by not saying how big the record is, so now guys are bringing in these 10- and 12-pound bass that were full of eggs and ready to spawn and saying, ‘Is this the one, is this the one?’ And I’m saying, ‘No, you killed that fish for nothing.’

“That’s why you won’t find Paul around, why he isn’t giving any more interviews. They’re all calling him stupid. The poor guy has gotten nothing but grief.”

AROUND THE SOUTHLAND

After a productive salmon opener two weeks ago in the Santa Barbara Channel, the ocean has warmed, driving the fish to deeper water and effectively shutting down the bite. But few are complaining as barracuda have moved in to pick up the slack. “They’re logs, 6- to 10-pounders and we’re getting limits,” said Russ Harmon, owner of Cisco Sportfishing in Oxnard. A similar bite is in progress outside L.A. Harbor. . . . Quail Unlimited’s gun-dog showdown, an event in which hunters and their dogs compete to flush and bag the most birds with the fewest shots, will be held Saturday at 7:30 a.m. at Prado Regional Park in Chino Hills. Details: (909) 624-7411.